There are some places when where the light never reaches. The Norlish Emporium was one.
Even though when the sun rises, its rays never reached further then Begicheva 10. Even though, you could hear the crackling of the fire. Even though, you could taste the salty air. Even though when the lights were the brightest.
But light never reached. The doors was too thick and too dark. It never entered until that stormy afternoon.
Raven wasn’t your typical type of a goth. Although, she may look like one, her eyes craved adventure. One stormy afternoon, a powerful snow storm hit the city of Norilsk in Russia. The only shop brightly lit was the sketchy emporium that no-one dared to enter. Then a powerful gust of wind threw her inside of the emporium.
Everywhere she looked, the Emporium was full of curious wonders. A amber egg illuminated the dull room. She glanced at a shelf made out of pocket-sized trinkets. On the shelf was a set of ancient Russian dolls with hair the colour of hazelnut, emerald green eyes and a midnight black scarf rimmed with golden flakes. On one counter top, something caught her attention. A book. The book had an old worn out black leather case, it also had a black quill pen attached to the side and its pages were the colour on linen.
Raven edged closer to the counter. Until, she was right next to the counter. Slowly, moving her pale hand closer. Just as Raven was about the book. A voice spoke.
“You shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours,” hissed the voice. Raven sprang back in fear. An old man appeared from the shadows.