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[b]Portland, Maine[/b]

While on the road, he came to a stoplight and leaned back on his chair, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel, idly looking at the cars ahead of him and the various shops on either side of the road when he felt his wife’s gaze on him.

“Why the sudden need to go to the bookshop?” She asked.

[color=silver]“I need to put more protection spells around the house,”[/color] he responded just as the traffic lights turned green.

“I thought you already put protection spells around the house.”

[color=silver]“I did. Just not the right kind, you know.”[/color] What he wasn’t telling her was that the spells he needed had to be strong; ritualistic type of spells that could not only negate a few powerful spells, but alert him if someone he didn’t want waltzed into his home. And for a spell like that, he needed several grimoires of protection spells so he could weave the rituals together, make his own unique blend to alert him wherever he was.

“And I’m guessing you don’t know the [i]right[/i] kind, eh?”

[color=silver]“The blessings of books,”[/color] he said wryly as they pulled into the parking lot of the small store. It was between a small business donut shop and a dollar store; the sign above the door in a strange, overly dramatic gothic font.

Taking the keys out of the ignition, they both walked into the store with a bell chiming above them. The interior was dimly lit with rows of bookshelves lining the centre isle. Behind the front desk Damian saw a young woman lazily reading a book, barely even registering they were in there. 

Sharing a look with his wife, Damian and Jessica walked forward between the shelves and began browsing. He showed her a card from his pocket, [color=silver]“look for something with this symbol or that word on the spine,”[/color] he said and watched her walk off to another isle to search as he began his own. Several long minutes passed as he went from isle to isle, pulling out various grimoires and spell books and thumbing through them.

Most of what he’d found were basic protection spells, or personal charms one would use to protect themselves or an item. And although the books were basic, as this wasn’t any sort of place to find hardcore rituals, some gems were present, which was why he’d went there. Deceptively powerful and simple spells with unique ways of doing their rituals which he could pull from to make his own.

“I’ve found something,” his wife called out several minutes later.

Putting back the book he was holding, he walked over to the isle she was in and took the book she was holding out for him and began skimming the pages. There were various powerful spells in this book, but none that he needed currently; but more interestingly were the various artifacts listed in there as well. Some from ancient Egypt and some that were alien altogether.

Intrigued by the book, he kept turning the pages, quickly skimming through the number of artifacts until he came upon a page depicting the Scythe of Athocreta, a large scythe with a black blade lined and trimmed in gold. He began reading through its description when his vision suddenly started to blur and shift.

He was no longer in the library. From the strangely coloured sky and the design of the city around him, he doubted he was even on Earth anymore. Looking around, Damian saw a figure in black and red robes some distance away with gray skin streaked in red using the scythe’s power to kill hundreds of individuals at once, the power of their souls being drawn into the scythe as though it were sucking them in. Screams rose around him, and moments later they vanished, cut off. He watched the figure fly up and Damian followed him, watching as he went through various alien cities, more screams rising into the air as hundreds vanished at a time.

As suddenly as he was pulled into the vision he was out, back in the bookshop, a deep chill going through his body as his face paled.

“Woah, honey, you okay?” He heard his wife’s voice ask, as though it were behind a glass.

He felt the the power of either the scythe or the figure he’d seen in his vision, a distant pulsating force getting stronger with each passing moment. The magical energy it was giving off blasting into his head, threatening to crack his skull, driving him to his knee.

Then the pressure eased, not disappearing completely, but remaining as a distant thrum. His hearing came back in full and he looked up at his wife, using one of the shelves to help him stand. [color=silver]“I need to go,”[/color] he said.