Chapter 51 A Tale Of Magic And Manipulation

• Jane was seated in her scarlet velvet armchair, in the center of her modern yet soulless living room. She had never grown accustomed to the minimalist coldness of contemporary decor; the straight lines and glossy surfaces seemed to reflect the disorder in her mind. Her pale, elongated fingers drummed on the arm of the chair as she watched the furniture float and rearrange itself around her, moved by the magic that emanated from her hands as an extension of her own will.
• The room, though modern, had an air of the past, filled with ancient artifacts and dusty books that clashed with the current furniture. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, swaying gently without wind, illuminating the space with a flickering light.
• Jane had always been a creature of seclusion and mystery, preferring the company of her thoughts and enchantments to the presence of others. She had lived for over a century, navigating the ages with a cunning ability to adapt, yet always keeping one foot firmly planted in 1860, where her life as a witch had paradoxically been simpler, despite the constant persecution.