From: “Tara and the Forgotten Spellbook”

Genre: Urban Fantasy | Slow-burn Mystery | Teenage Journey

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INT. VELORIUM – SKYTOWER APARTMENT – EVENING

It had been raining for two days.

The clouds hung low over Velorium — the glass-and-chrome high-tech city where the lights never truly went out.

But inside Apartment 43-B, there was no brightness.

Tara, 17years old teenager, stared out the huge curved window of her family’s skyhome. Flying buses passed by in blinking blue blurs. Billboard drones hummed outside, advertising digital water bottles and cloud subscriptions.

She didn’t move.

Her phone had no messages. No missed calls. No one was waiting on the other end of anything.

She didn’t go out much.

Didn’t have friends.

Didn’t really try anymore.

People looked at her strangely.

Not because she was rude. Not because she dressed weird.

But because… sometimes she just knew things before they happened.

Last month, she warned her teacher that the lab lights would explode.

They did.

Nobody believed her. Again.

The house was echoing. Tara’s parents were on an office trip — gone for three days. Business class flight. Zero emotional calls.

The only sounds now:

🌀 The hum of the AI fridge.

☕ The kettle boiling on its own.

📱 A blinking unread message.

---

INT. LIVING ROOM – MINUTES LATER

A robotic voice echoed from the apartment speaker.

> “Have a restful evening, Tara. Your parents will return in 2.5 days. Dinner is preloaded.”

She sighed.

Her parents had left for another corporate retreat — some leadership training for tech CEOs.

They said they’d be back “soon.”

They always said that.

Tara walked around the living room like she was drifting.

Bored. Restless. Lonely.

And then… her eyes landed on the basement door.

It was usually sealed. But now? Slightly open.

---

INT. BASEMENT – MOMENTS LATER

She stepped down into the lower level — not often used. Dim lights flickered on slowly, triggered by her footsteps.

The air smelled different here.

Dust. Wood. Old memories.

Shelves lined the walls, filled with boxes — some labeled with her dad’s old books, some from her mom’s art school days.

And then… something caught her eye.

A small trunk tucked behind two storage crates. Carved with intricate leaf patterns. Not machine-made.

It had a brass lock, but it wasn’t latched.

She opened it gently.

Inside were a few folded shawls. A cracked wooden frame with her grandmother’s photo — soft eyes, sharp smile.

And beneath that…

A book.

Bound in deep green leather. Edged with faded silver lines.

It had no title.

No author.

Just a tiny symbol on the front — a swirl inside a circle.

Tara picked it up.

It felt heavier than it looked. And colder.

She flipped the first page.

It was blank.

She turned a few more. Nothing.

Until— one page had faint writing… almost invisible.

She leaned closer.

> “This book does not open by hands alone.”

Tara blinked.

She shut the book.

Suddenly… she wasn’t bored anymore.

---

🕯️ End of Scene 1

INT. VELORIUM SCHOOL – AFTERNOON

The school day had been… the same.

People stared.

Whispered.

Tara moved through the halls like a shadow — not invisible, but clearly not invited.

A group of girls giggled as she passed by.

Someone called her a “weird AI kid” under their breath.

She didn’t react.

She was used to it.

---

INT. SKYTOWER APARTMENT – EVENING

Tara pushed open the door to her home. The AI assistant greeted her with a robotic,

> “Welcome back, Tara. Would you like to play calming nature sounds?”

She didn’t answer.

She walked straight to her room, dropped her bag, turned to her bed—

and froze.

The book.

The same book from the basement.

It was sitting neatly on her pillow.

But she had left it in the trunk.

Hadn’t she?

Her breath caught in her throat. She stepped closer.

The green leather cover was warm now. The silver edge seemed to pulse faintly.

She picked it up. A paper-cut caught her finger—

A thin drop of blood dripped onto the cover.

And then— a flash.

Not from a lightbulb. Not electricity.

A pulse of white-blue light burst from the

Book, just for a second — and faded.

The book flipped open on its own.

The pages turned fast, then stopped on one.

A word burned itself into the page in glowing ink.

> “SENORA.”

Tara whispered it. Softly.

> “Senora.”

The walls shook.

A line of light appeared across the far wall — one that hadn’t been there before.

It split open — a glowing crack expanding, forming the outline of a doorway.

Stone. Ancient. Alive.

The room grew colder. The air heavier.

Tara stood still. Heart pounding. Eyes wide.

The door creaked open, revealing only darkness… and a faint shimmer deep inside.

She didn’t know what waited in there.

But somehow, it felt like it had always been waiting for her.

---

INT. THE PORTAL ROOM – CONTINUOUS

The magical doorway stood open, humming softly.

Tara took a breath—then stepped in.

In an instant, the lights of Velorium vanished behind her.

The floor changed beneath her feet.

The air turned thick, scented with herbs, smoke, and something ancient.

---

EXT. STRANGE TOWN – UNKNOWN WORLD – NIGHT

She found herself in a winding street. Stone houses with crooked chimneys lined the lane. Floating lanterns drifted above. The sky was dark purple. Two moons hung low, glowing faintly.

People — not normal people — moved through the streets.

Cloaked figures in long robes.

Children flying on broomsticks.

A woman whispering to a tree that whispered back.

Everyone looked at Tara.

Not with fear — with confusion.

She stood out completely in her normal hoodie and jeans.

Someone muttered, “A surface girl?”

Another whispered, “She’s human… how did she get through?”

And then… a tall, hooded old man approached her slowly.

His eyes glowed faint blue. His beard sparkled with silver ash.

> “Come with me,” he said gently. “You’ve crossed a border that hasn’t opened in 300 years.”

🪄 End of Scene 2 – The Door Awakens

INT. WITCHWORLD – GOVERNMENT HALL – LATER

Tara followed him through twisting paths until they reached a towering glass dome. Inside: an office filled with strange glowing maps, whispering scrolls, and robed officials.

She stood nervously as they questioned her:

> “Where did you find the book?”

“Did anyone teach you the spell?”

“Have you ever been here before?”

She answered everything truthfully.

She told them about the basement. The cut on her finger. The word “Senora.”

She showed them the book.

The entire room fell silent.

One officer dropped his scroll.

Another backed away in shock.

Then, one by one, they began to bow slightly — heads lowered.

Tara blinked. “What’s happening?”

The old man stepped forward and said,

> “That book… hasn’t been seen in centuries. It belonged to the Keeper of Realms — our most powerful guardian. And it only responds to her bloodline.”

> “You must come with me… the Head Witch must see this.”

---

INT. WITCHWORLD PALACE – THRONE ROOM

Tara stood in awe.

Massive crystal chandeliers floated in air. The floor was made of glowing runes. At the far end, seated on a wide throne, was a tall woman in violet robes — the Head of Witchworld.

Tara stepped forward and held out the book.

The Head took one look… and her face changed completely.

She stood. Her hands trembled.

And then…

Head kneeled.

In front of Tara.

The entire hall gasped.

> “Your blood… it bears the Keeper’s mark,” the Head whispered.

“Forgive us. We had no idea. Welcome back, daughter of the Forgotten Realm.”

INT. WITCHWORLD – GRAND HALL – NIGHT

Tara stood in silence, surrounded by the glowing council chamber.

The Head of Witchworld had just knelt before her.

Everyone watched her like she was some kind of legend.

But Tara?

Tara was just a girl in jeans and a hoodie.

> Tara (softly):

“Naan inga belong panna maaten... I’m from the modern world.”

“Tech... school... phone... app... naan oru sorcerer illai.”

The Head Witch nodded gently.

> “That spell brought you here — and that same spell will take you back.”

“Senora. Say it again, and the portal will open.”

Tara’s eyes lowered. She clutched the book tightly.

> “Aana... before you leave,” the Head said, “just see the world once. Not for us. For you.”

“For who you might be.”

---

MONTAGE – WITCHWORLD TOUR (TARA & THE HEAD WITCH)

🪄 They walked through magical streets glowing under floating lanterns.

🌿 Visited a living forest that whispered in forgotten languages.

🍯 Met potion brewers with laughing cauldrons and mood-changing tea.

📜 Flew over rooftops on scroll-like carpets, the cityscape unfolding beneath.

Tara smiled, her eyes full of wonder — but she still felt like a guest.

Until…

INT. WITCH TEMPLE – SECRET VAULT – NIGHT

The Head Witch guided her down a spiral path, under an ancient temple.

> “This place was sealed… the day your grandmother disappeared.”

“She was the last Keeper — protector of all worlds.”

Tara stood in front of a locked box carved in golden roots.

It shimmered faintly when she approached.

> “Only her blood can open it,” the Head whispered.

Tara placed her hand gently on the surface.

Click.

The box slowly opened, revealing—

A wand.

Elegant. Silverwood. A crystal blooming at its tip.

It pulsed gently with light — like it recognized her.

Tara didn’t move at first. Then, slowly…

She picked it up.

The moment she touched it, wind spiraled around her —

Pages flipped, torches flickered, whispers filled the room.

And then silence.

She stood tall. Calm.

> “What… is this feeling?” Tara asked, softly.

The Head Witch smiled.

> “That… is who you are.”