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Run your fingertips along dusty spellbooks and bubbling cauldrons in a hidden corner of the magical quarter—this cramped, herb-scented alcove is yours to claim. Each dawn brings simmering kettles and whispered incantations as you grind moon-touched petals, measure dragon-scale shavings, and stir twilight into liquid enchantments. Forget fairy tales: true witchcraft blisters your palms and tests your wit. One misstep turns healing tonics into chaos—a sneeze mid-chant might swap a client’s hair for tentacles, a misread rune could summon sentient fog that heckles customers. But nail the rhythm of crackling flames and precise pour timings? Watch elixirs glow with power that bends reality. The council of elder witches won’t stamp your license until your Sleepthorn Tonic actually stops nightmares (not just causes interpretive dance dreams) or your Phoenix Revival Brew reignites flames without burning down the shop. Keep at it—through exploded flasks and questionable ooze leaks—and that embroidered midnight cloak might finally bear your true witch name.
