Whispers of Magic

-INT. WITCHWORLD – TEMPLE VAULT – NIGHT

Tara held the wand in her hand — wind still swirling faintly around her.

Her fingers trembled. Her heart raced.

> Tara (whispers):

“I didn’t ask for this…”

“I just wanted something interesting… not this.”

She stepped back from the box.

The Head Witch looked sad… but nodded.

> “When you are ready, Tara. The world will still be here.”

Tara clutched the book. Whispered softly—

> “Senora.”

The glowing doorway opened once again.

She looked back once.

Then stepped through.

---

INT. SKYTOWER APARTMENT – TARA’S ROOM – NIGHT

Suddenly, she was back.

Everything exactly as it was.

The rain outside.

The clock hadn’t moved a second.

She was lying on her bed — the green book and wand now beside her.

Tara sat up, staring at the wand in her hands.

> Tara (softly, like a child):

“Nee enna? Enaku theriyala... aana unnala enaku calm feel aagudhu.”

“Nee enna pannuva nu paapom.”

She held the wand close like a secret.

--

INT. SCHOOL – NEXT MORNING

The next day was... the same.

Tara walked into class.

Same blank stares. Same whispers.

No one sat next to her.

She opened her bag slowly.

Inside — the spellbook.

She turned to the first page. This time, letters had appeared:

> “Chapter 1: Wand Etiquette & Basic Spells”

"A wand is a whisper. Do not shout with it."

"To begin, breathe with the wand, not at it."

She smiled. Just slightly.

> Tara (to herself):

“Basic-aa irundhaalum… idhu en first class.

INT. SKYTOWER APARTMENT – EVENING

She came home early. Locked her door.

Turned off the AI assistant.

Sat cross-legged on the floor.

The spellbook open. The wand in her hand.

She took a deep breath.

> “Try spell one,” she whispered, mimicking the words.

The tip of the wand blinked.

A faint sparkle appeared.

She gasped.

Then giggled — like a child who learned how to whistle for the first time.

INT. TARA’S ROOM – EVENING

A week had passed.

Tara sat cross-legged in her room, wand in hand.

The book lay open in front of her.

Spell after spell.

Whisper after whisper.

> “Levitas.”

Nothing.

“Ignia...”

Nothing.

“Bloomus lighta—”

Puff!

Her hair turned slightly blue.

She groaned.

> “This is stupid.”

“It only worked once… maybe it was a mistake.”

She slumped back onto her bed.

The spellbook flopped closed.

After a few minutes, she sat back up — annoyed — and began flipping through the pages, fast.

Flip. Flip. Flip.

Until the very last page.

It looked older.

Burnt at the edges.

And there… she saw the words — written in silver ink:

---

> "You were not chosen to learn magic. You were born to protect it."

"The bloodline of the Keepers holds the Key — hidden from those who seek to control it."

"The seal is breaking."

"Guard the key. Or magic will be lost."

-

Tara froze.

> “Key...? What key?”

She looked down at the wand.

It glowed faintly.

INT. DARK WORLD – UNKNOWN LOCATION – NIGHT

A swirling, corrupted realm.

Black skies.

Broken castles floating in the air.

Screams of wind and echoes of forgotten spells.

In the center — a cracked prison, held together by glowing chains.

Suddenly— SNAP.

One of the chains broke.

Dark magic spilled out like smoke.

From the shattered center, a tall figure stepped out — wrapped in a cloak of shadows. His eyes burned purple.

He laughed — slow, terrifying, cold.

> “After 84 years… freedom tastes sweet.”

“The girl has the wand. The book has awakened.”

“Then the Key is back in play.”

He opened his palm. Fire formed into a shape — the image of Tara.

> “The bloodline lives… but it ends with her.”

His name echoed in the wind like a curse:

> “MMX.”

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