❝ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐬 𝐊𝐞𝐲 ❞
[@ultrassilvania liked for a starter!]
Everything had been prepared meticulously like a builder lying down a foundation. Performing spells had always been in his repertoire and every detail mattered because, if overlooked, the outcome could change for the worse...much worse.
England was at the top of his game. The worry of his magic draining his energy wasn’t as much of an issue, anymore, and he found himself becoming far more bold in what spells he attempted—ones he always handled with caution before this. But to hell with it! He wanted to teleport quickly and easily to his estate without all the faff of months upon months of a long voyage back home. Imagine all the galas and political meetings he could partake in if he wasn’t adrift at sea?
He lit each candle around the circle and stood in the middle, where the lines came to a solid, joint shape, with his spell book in hand; old, leather-bound, written in his own hand. The incantation flew confidently passed his lips—the energy in the room heightening until it became almost difficult to breathe or move or do much of anything except continue. There was a moment of silence as the last word fell, until the atmosphere cracked and warped and crumbled all about him.
He lurched, jolted through space; dishevelled and tossed into the unreliable hands of his magic. There was darkness, a warbling strangeness whizzing passed his ears, until the ground slammed into his feet and he was left, standing, in a very...unfamiliar place as loose papers fluttered off their cluttered surfaces.
Blinking in the darkness, it took a moment for his vision to adjust. There was a worn desk at his side, an armchair covered in plastic, a bed taking up a large portion of space in the room. The wallpaper—its colour undeterminable in the lack of light—peeling off due to age and neglect. Even the air smelled musty, despite all the magical energy lingering in it still. Honestly, it was pitiful. Disgust wrote itself onto his features at the mere sight of it all.
It certainly wasn’t his estate, by any means, and really even making that comparison was insulting. But the fact that had to wrest ahold of his attention, though, was that he wasn’t alone. The queen-sized bed across from him was quite clearly occupied and not only that; its occupier was waking. “Put a light on, would you?” His impatient voice hung in the darkness and probably would only scare the home owner, but he wasn’t all that bothered about it. “I can’t see a thing.”
