Braun frowned slightly and approached cautiously.
Around the cottage, several brightly feathered blue jays perched fearlessly beneath the eaves, tilting their heads as they studied the visitors;
Furry squirrels sat on the windowsills clutching acorns, their large round eyes filled with childlike curiosity;
Braun even saw one or two shy white-tailed deer peeking out from the edge of the woods farther away, their gazes soft and bright.
Anyone would have relaxed at such a sight, but Braun only grew more wary. He moved forward almost soundlessly, gently pushed open the door, lowered his head, turned sideways, and slipped inside.
The interior was somewhat taller than expected. Braun could stand upright, though he would bump into the various jars hanging from the rafters if he was not careful.
The room was dimly lit, cluttered, and strange. Crooked bookshelves against the walls were crammed with parchment scrolls, while mortars, hammers, tongs, and other tools lay scattered across the workbench. Unidentified dried plants hung everywhere, and the cauldron on the stove was still bubbling away.
It appeared that its owner had been here not long ago, only to leave temporarily for some unknown reason.
The most eye-catching thing in the room was the opposite wall—six or seven wands of different lengths and materials hung there, like a hunter displaying animal heads above the fireplace in his Living Room.
Abigail's expression changed drastically as more fragments of memory surged through her mind—
A cold, withered finger, its tip seemingly glowing silver, slowly pointed toward her. She stared at it blankly, able to count every rough callus on the finger, yet utterly without any thought of fleeing or resisting;
An aged, hoarse voice sounded from very close by. "Forget it. Forget those feelings that made you betray yourself... You hate wizards. They are the enemies