Chapter 116: 116 Homecoming shadows

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116: Homecoming shadows 116: Homecoming shadows Mishka stood on the familiar doorstep of her childhood home, her heart pounding.

The Moonstone Key was safely hidden away, but its weight still seemed to pull at her pocket.

She took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

The door flew open almost instantly.

“Mishka!” Her father enveloped her in a crushing hug before she could even speak.

“Thank God you’re alright.

We’ve been so worried.”

As they stepped inside, Mishka caught sight of her grandmother Myrtle watching from the living room, her expression a mix of relief and suspicion.

Mishka steeled herself for the conversation ahead.

“Where have you been?” her father asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“When we heard about the explosion at Bruce’s mansion, and then you didn’t answer your phone…”

Mishka swallowed hard, reciting the carefully crafted story in her mind.

“I’m so sorry, Dad.

Everything happened so fast.

There was an accident at Bruce’s place – a gas leak, they think.

We got out just in time, but in the chaos, I lost my phone.

Bruce was injured, and I’ve been helping him recover at a private medical facility.”

She hated lying to her father, but how could she possibly explain the truth?

That she’d been battling supernatural creatures and discovering hidden worlds?

Her grandmother’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“And I suppose this ‘medical facility’ had no phones?

No way to contact your worried family?”

Mishka turned to face Myrtle, noting the subtle glow around her grandmother’s hands.

Was she preparing some sort of spell?

“It was a very secure, private place,” Mishka explained carefully.

“We were advised to limit outside contact while the situation was being investigated.”

Myrtle’s eyes narrowed.

“Hmm.

And I suppose this little adventure has finally shown you the dangers of chasing after rock star dreams?

Perhaps now you’ll be ready to take your rightful place in the family business?”

Mishka felt a familiar frustration rising.

“Grandmother, my music isn’t just a dream.

It’s who I am.

And after everything that’s happened, I’m more certain than ever that it’s the path I need to follow.”

As she spoke, Mishka felt a warmth emanating from her pocket where the Moonstone Key was hidden.

Whatever magic Myrtle might try, Mishka somehow knew she was protected.

Her father looked between them, confused by the underlying tension.

“The important thing is that you’re safe,” he said, placing a hand on Mishka’s shoulder.

“But please, no more disappearing acts.

I don’t think my heart could take it.”

Mishka hugged him tightly, guilt gnawing at her.

How long could she keep her new life a secret from those she loved most?

And as she caught her grandmother’s calculating gaze, she wondered: just how much did Myrtle truly know about the supernatural world Mishka had stumbled into?

As night fell, Mishka retreated to her own bedroom, her mind racing with the events of the day and the challenges that still lay ahead.

She knew this was only the beginning of a delicate balancing act between her two worlds – and she could only hope she was strong enough to maintain it.

The basement nursery was dimly lit by flickering candles, their light dancing off shelves lined with ancient tomes and mysterious artifacts.

At the center of the room stood an ornate pedestal, upon which rested Myrtle’s most prized possession: the crystal ball of deep, swirling amethyst.

Myrtle approached the crystal ball, her wrinkled hands hovering over its smooth surface.

“Show me,” she whispered, her voice carrying an otherworldly resonance.

“Show me what truly happened to Mishka.”

The crystal ball began to glow, mist swirling within its depths.

Slowly, images started to form, but they were fragmented, unclear.

Myrtle saw flashes of a mansion in flames, shadowy figures with glowing eyes, and Mishka…

Mishka holding something that shone with an ethereal light.

Frowning, Myrtle concentrated harder, pushing more of her energy into the scrying spell.

The images flickered and shifted, becoming slightly clearer.

She caught glimpses of Bruce, his form seeming to blur and change in impossible ways.

There was a battle, creatures Myrtle had only read about in her most obscure grimoires.

But every time she thought she was about to see the full picture, it was as if something was blocking her vision.

A protective force she’d never encountered before.

Frustrated, Myrtle pulled back, breaking the connection.

In all her years of magical practice, she’d never experienced anything like this.

Whatever Mishka had gotten involved with, it was powerful enough to resist even Myrtle’s most potent scrying spells.

“Oh, Mishka,” Myrtle murmured, a mix of worry and curiosity in her voice.

“What have you stumbled into, child?”

As she ascended the stairs back to her bedroom, Myrtle’s mind raced with possibilities.

One thing was certain: the magical world she’d kept hidden from her family for so long had somehow found its way to Mishka.

And now, more than ever, Myrtle was determined to guide her granddaughter’s path – for Mishka’s safety, and for the future of their family’s secret magical legacy.

The soft knock on Mishka’s bedroom door startled her from her thoughts.

She had been absently fidgeting with the Moonstone Key, hidden beneath her blanket, still unsettled by the strange magical disturbance she had felt earlier.

“Come in,” Mishka called, quickly tucking the key into her pocket.

The door creaked open, revealing Milla, the young servant girl who had been a constant presence in the household since Mishka was a child.

Milla’s face lit up with genuine joy as she entered, carefully balancing a tray with a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh, Mishka!

I’m so relieved to see you safe,” Milla exclaimed in a hushed tone, setting the tray on the bedside table.

“We’ve all been so worried.”

Mishka smiled warmly at Milla.

Despite the difference in their stations, there had always been a friendship between them.

“It’s good to see you too, Milla.

I’m sorry for causing everyone so much concern.”

Milla glanced nervously at the door before leaning in closer.

“Mishka, there’s something you should know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Strange things have been happening while you were away.”

Mishka’s heart quickened.

“What kind of strange things?”

Milla’s eyes darted around the room as if checking for unseen listeners.

“It’s your grandmother.

Late at night, I’ve seen her sneaking around the house, carrying odd-looking books and crystals.

And sometimes, I swear I can hear chanting coming from her room.”

Mishka tried to keep her expression neutral, but her mind was racing.

Could Milla’s observations be connected to the magical disturbance she had felt earlier?

“There’s more,” Milla continued, her voice trembling slightly.

“The night after you disappeared, I saw a strange light coming from under her door.

When I peeked through the keyhole…” Milla hesitated, as if afraid to voice what she had seen.

“Go on,” Mishka encouraged gently.

“I saw her standing over a glowing orb, Miss.

She was speaking in a language I’ve never heard before, and the orb was showing…

images.

Terrible, frightening images.” Milla shuddered at the memory.

Mishka reached out and squeezed Milla’s hand reassuringly.

“Thank you for telling me this, Milla.

I know it must have been scary to see such things.”

Milla nodded, visibly relieved to have shared her burden.

“Just…

be careful, Miss Mishka.

I don’t know what’s going on, but something doesn’t feel right.”

As Milla turned to leave, Mishka called out softly, “Milla?

Let’s keep this conversation between us, okay?”

The servant girl nodded solemnly before slipping out of the room, leaving Mishka alone with her turbulent thoughts and the weight of new secrets pressing down upon her.

She ruffled her hands through her hair and when she looked into the mirror she could barely recognize herself.