Watching it burn, she was glad that her mentor told her to keep her sleeping quarters and her working quarters separate. The fire encasing her cottage in the forest was not greedy. It did not extend further to taste and devour the dry withered branches of the white and gray ash trees. The fire was focused, almost as if it was a task to simply engulf her house. The fire reflected in her eyes, but it looked distorted for a moment before it looked like a completely different fire, one of rage and bloodlust. Being of a supernatural kind, the young lady could tell the fire was magic-infused or magic-based. She knew that the firefighters' attempts to kill the fire were futile. She was supposed to be in her sleeping quarters right now dying in the inescapable inferno, but for once she thanked the police officers and detectives that drug her out of bed to interrogate her. After all, in this city when something is unexplainable, like the serial killings in all of the newspapers, the one ousted supernatural would be to blame. She would've thought she would be used it by now, but they still irk her. It's discrimination almost at its worst.
She clutched the long Victorian cape around her as if it would warm the chill in her heart. She doesn't have any enemies that are supernatural since she's practically a recluse. She wouldn't know why a supernatural would attack her this way unless they are the serial killer and they think she's going to help in the investigation. If that was the main point of this farce, they simply dug their graves. She would help if only to get even with the savage. When magic was around or in use, especially strong magic, the underside of her hair would turn black as space with thousands of tiny stars lighting as if it's a warning signal. She was glad she was wrapped so tightly in the cape. If they saw her hair, the policemen would think she burned down her own cottage for insurance or attention. She didn't want to think about it.
Still, she looked at the black wood and stones that were once honey-colored brown and shining silver. She decided to sing a little spell just for comfort and to make sure the ensorcelled fire was the only magic around aside from her own.
"Standing here in this space lost in forgotten memories. Biding time until it's mine trapped forever in my mind…" She sang softly to herself. The songs she sang were like lullabies, and this one was to the tune of the Anastasia song "Once Upon a December". She could write lyrical spells, but she could never create a decent melody. Her mentor suggested using created melodies with her lyrics, and it's worked out well for her. She even has little lullabies to summon ghost spiders to knit and sew clothing for her to the tune of the Cinderella songs "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes" and "The Work Song". She would have to use one or both of them tonight since her clothes she wasn't wearing were currently feeding the fire.
"Miss Bouchard, is this your cat?" One of the policemen, a new rookie as she doesn't know him by name, lifted a calm black cat with deep emerald eyes. Her full name was Sybil "Lumina" Bouchard. She would rather people be frank with her therefore she required no formalities unless she had to use them.
"Yes, and it is Sybil. I don't go by my last name unless I need clout. Come here Circe." She smiled angelically at the cat as she leapt from the young man's arms and padded to her. When she was standing in front of her, emerald colored energy spiraled around her like a sheer veil. She stuck her paw through it, and when she did, she morphed into a voluptuous sexy woman in her early 30s. However, her body and face didn't look it. She was flawless.
"My Lady? How may I be of assistance?" She asked with a purr. Since the human-turned-cat was her servant and bore the Mark of Ownership all servants and slaves have, she spoke formally to Sybil. Sybil saved her from an abusive warlock when she was young, but the only way to save her was to make her a slave. Sybil is uncomfortable with owning another human being even if the being was only once "human".
"Ah! You're a witch!" The rookie cried out in horror.
She ignored him. "Yes, I would first like to know where you were." Sybil asked her.
"Forgive me Lady. I had searched for Jericho. For a bat of such a ghostly white, he is impossible to find." Circe frowned.
"Did you find Luna or Nyx?" Sybil asked.
"Yes Lady. They are with the White Leopard."
"Good. I've run out of some herbs so if they're with her, they'll be fine." Sybil sighed in relief. "Please go collect them. Jericho will come back when he wants." Sybil sighed again as she wished she changed clothes before heading out into the cold. A long crimson slinky silk lingerie gown did little to warm her. At least the cape kept her teeth from chattering.
"Sybil, do you have a place to sleep tonight? If not, we could provide you with an apartment while you help us with our investigation." The lead detective in the serial killer case told her after he waved her over to him.
Sybil yawned exhausted and wearily accepted his offer. She got into his police car and let them drive her to the apartment. Even though it was the modern era, Sybil loved to dress in Victorian fashion, possibly her mentor's influence or the influence of her magic…
"Thank you Detective Steven. This is just fine." Sybil said while surveying the open floor apartment. It had a living room, a small kitchen, an average sized bedroom, and a small bathroom connected to the bedroom. Once she added privacy curtains, beaded doors, all-wood floors, and updated the misshapen furniture she would have a nice place to call home. She snapped her fingers and 90s music began playing throughout the house. The song currently playing was Puff Daddy's "I'll Be Missing You". Sybil waited until the refrain, and then she sang. The carpet in the apartment tore itself to shreds before vanishing leaving beautiful oak hardwood floors in its place. Beautiful marble glass beaded doors strewn themselves down to the floor creating privacy for the bedroom, bathroom and kitchen.
Sybil surveyed her work and realized that her song didn't improve the apartment as much as she wanted. Ace of Base's song The Sign began to play. She again sang the song. The dated appliances turned into modern stainless steel appliances. Marble countertops, black oak bedframe, memory foam mattress, black plush leather couches and chairs, glass coffee table, and dimmer switches with florescent lighting. She surveyed her work with satisfaction as she took off her cape. It dematerialized only to rematerialize on a hanger in her small walk in closet. She snapped her fingers, and the music cut off.
"Thank you again Detective Steven. If you want, you can place those files on the coffee table. I need to go grocery shopping." Sybil chuckled when Jericho in his bat form flew in and landed on her shoulder. He had tickled her with the gust from his wings. "Jericho, would you mind watching our new apartment while I go shopping?" He nodded his little head once.