Chapter 1 Visions of Oblivion #2
As for me, well, I had gone down a different path.
Not so much denying all I was brought up to believe in, but not exactly embracing it, either.
Although Agnes didn’t mind because she believed everyone had their own path to follow.
Hence why she was currently in New Orleans, visiting another Coven and running a course on Herbology for them.
Goddess, but how I missed my mom as she would have known exactly what to do and what to say in this moment to calm me down. Although Sabrina was definitely a close second.
“Calm down, Lily-pad, I am sure we can find you something… In fact, we had this new shipment in of dresses, let me just go get them from the back… not to worry, we will have you sorted in no time,” she said in her usual chipper, ‘the world can’t get me down’ tone.
One that, unfortunately, didn’t exactly fill me with confidence, especially not when I scanned the shop and saw the section of clothing that only had one style in mind… Gothic.
That aside, the use of my family nickname helped soothe me, and one born for obvious reasons, as I loved the flower.
That, and the way I believed each one was special enough that they needed their own island in the pond to grow on when I was a kid.
Or next to, but hey, my version sounded way better.
But getting back to the alternative clothing at ‘The Littlest Witching Hour’, I knew finding something suitable to wear was going to be tricky, even though there was certainly a lot to choose from.
Because my mom knew that the only way to keep this precious shop going was to offer items that would sell.
And well, bunches of sage and crystal pendulums wasn’t it.
Which was why the shop was sectioned the way it was.
With clothing and gothic apparel at the back, witchy paraphernalia at the front, and a shit load of candles in between.
These were another bestseller, especially the black pillar candles that bled crimson and were aptly named A Vampire’s Tears.
As for the rest of the shop, it was as you would have imagined a witch’s shop to look like.
Tapestries covered most of the free wall space.
These depicted everything from the Triple Goddess, cycles of the moon, giant pentagrams, and the Tree of Life.
All of which you could purchase, of course, just like everything else my mom kept on display.
Glass cases filled with stunning crystals, elaborate goblets, and a collection of fantasy figurines of dragons and other mythological creatures I had always been fascinated with as a kid.
The clothing part of the shop was the only section that lacked any real color.
The walls were painted black and decorated with moon-shaped mirrors, coffin-shaped shelving, and 3D bats surrounding the frame where two curtained changing rooms were.
Oh, and let’s not forget the rails of black clothes that were constantly being restocked.
Which meant I was not surprised when my sister brought out an armful of black fabric, and I mentally prayed that there was something suitable among the folds.
However, it turned out that, no matter how hard I prayed to all the deities I knew, nothing would save me from walking into that meeting looking like I had lost my mind.
That, or I had suddenly decided to become a goth overnight.
“What about this one?”
“I am not sure skulls and coffins are gonna help when making a pitch to a health food company advertising their new protein shake or the forever young skin cream campaign I’m also working on. Or say, the need to buy diamonds when you're dead, which is what my first pitch is for.”
My sister chuckled before agreeing.
“Yeah, I see your point… okay, so what about this one? It’s not all black, but it just has these cute runes and symbols all over it… and hey, isn’t that what Louis Vuitton does?”
I had to laugh at this before informing her,
“I’m not sure a print of LV and flowers constitutes as being demonic in nature… despite how much they charge for their bags,” I grumbled knowing all I would ever be able to afford was the knock off ones I got from some dodgy guy on the street.
“Did you know that the four-petal flower symbolizes joy and was designed by Georges-Louis Vuitton in 1896?”
I yelped in surprise when Nate spoke from seemingly out of nowhere.
He was a tall, gangly guy who was the very last person you expected to find working in a witch’s shop.
He was wearing a tweed suit, for one, and with it, he had thought a yellow shirt and little red bow-tie would match the green suit.
He was also fabulously gay, dressed in impeccable suits five days of the week, and had more dresses in his closet for the weekend than my sister and I did combined.
Of course, his name also changed to Natalie Bighorn, and he was often seen singing his lungs out to Dolly Parton at the Rainbow Bridge nightclub every Saturday night.
He was also utterly fabulous in every way.
Which was no doubt why he knew everything there was to know about fashion, so the information he just gave me wasn’t what had surprised me. No, it was him suddenly appearing right behind me from where I was leaning against the front counter.
“Goddess, Nate, you scared the shit out of me!” I complained, making him give me one of his best bitchy wry looks before pushing a pair of glasses he didn’t need, but wore for fashion purposes, up his nose.
I swear the guy could have played a part in The Devil Wears Prada and given Meryl Streep a run for her money!
“You look like you have been shit on,” was his dry response.
“Hence the obvious wardrobe emergency,” I said, waving a frantic hand down my body.
“Well, office chic isn’t what we are exactly known for, sweetie, so I suggest taking the Sumerian nights dress, as it's your best option.”
“Only option, more like,” I muttered as I took the dress off my sister’s arm with a grimace, one that made her giggle.
Which meant that two minutes later, and I was walking from the black velvet curtain looking like a gothic version of myself.
The dress was an A-line style with a skirt that flared out due to the little pleats at the waistband.
It was a soft and stretchy type of material, so, at the very least, it was comfortable.
It had strange symbols I had never seen before printed all over it in a light grey tone.
The bottom of the skirt had much larger symbols, and these looked more like the demonic sigils I was used to seeing in the shop.
Symbols that were white and the size of my palm, making this the part of the dress that was less subtle.
As for the upper half, it was a plain black, fitted, corset style that laced at the back, but with a hexagram-shaped strap that crisscrossed over my chest at the front.
Of course, I had been torn when standing in front of the mirror before coming out of the changing room.
Because, on one hand, the dress actually looked good on me, giving me a sexy hourglass figure.
But on the more practical side, it wasn’t exactly office chic, like Nate had said.
“Oh wow! It looks great on you… But the shoes don’t go,” my sister informed me with a big grin, and my sigh must have said it all.
Especially when I held out my hand without looking, and she passed me the thick-soled, lace-up black boots that I knew were the tamest pair in the shop.
Again, she just giggled, clearly finding amusement in my forced fashion choice.
Any other day, and it wouldn’t have bothered me as much, but this could have been a pivotal turning point in my career.
Now, if only there had been any other clothes shops open this early, then it wouldn’t have been so bad.
But the only reason I knew Sabrina would have been here was that they were doing an early stock-take, which was why Nate was here too.
“Maybe this is a bad omen,” I complained after zipping up the sides of the boots and tightening the laces.
“No, don’t think that way. You have worked too hard on this, don’t give up now… remember what Mom always says…”
“Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time. Thomas Edison… yeah, I know.”
“Well, I was going to say the one where a bad omen is just another name for fear, and both exist to become a battle to conquer.”
I released another sigh, now slapping my hands to my knees and standing before telling her that she was right.
However, I never got there as the second my hands came into contact with the fabric of my dress, I was struck with the next fear to conquer. And this time it had nothing to do with a meeting or a presentation.
No, this time, it was a face.
The most startling, handsome face I had ever seen. A man that I knew wasn’t just a man at all. But a powerful figure sat upon a throne of flesh and bone.
A demonic King and ruler of a Hellish…
Eternal Oblivion.