Few know the unwritten rule of large-scale spells:

“Every spell that alters destiny... also twists it for the caster.”

And that included the Marglow Bar, cursed decades ago by a sorceress whose heart had been ripped out (symbolically... and perhaps also literally). The magical whim that sealed the bar wasn't selective.

It tied the threads of fate of all who lived, served, or simply breathed within it.

Even the hostess, the one who seemed to pull the strings with calculated calm, was also caught in that invisible dance. The spell demanded true love to be remembered. But within its trap lay something else: a web of memories, desires, and unfinished pasts, which slowly began to surface, like dead fish in a neglected tank.

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A park with chipped benches, trees with slack leaves, and a fountain that gurgled as if allergic to water. There was Alessandra, the cat with white fur and a red scarf, carrying two half-melted ice creams while humming a bolero. She looked back, and she saw him.

Marcel, sitting on a low stone step, his expression calm. He was smiling. But he wasn't alone. Around him, there were animals. A fox, a crow on a lamppost. A goat that kept chewing dry grass as if it were gum. And he... he was chatting with them. He was talking to them, in a low voice, as if it were normal. As if the world had subtitles that only he could read.

Alessandra stopped. She blinked. She looked at the ice creams. Then at the boy. Then at the goat.

"Uh-huh. No. This didn't happen. None of this happened." "I'm just very tired, and this ice cream has liquor in it, that's all," -Alessandra murmured.

She approached, handed him the ice cream, and said nothing. Neither did he. Neither of them mentioned the animals. Nor the crow that winked at Alessandra. That night, everyone returned to their homes. And the memories of the afternoon remained like a sigh trapped in a bottle.

Far, far away, where the air was more dust than oxygen, the sorceress Najima (who you already know) was tapping a map with her absent staff.

"I-It can't be! He was dead! DEAD! He had a 98% chance of dying! That's statistically irreversible!" -Najima shouted, his voice as sharp as a crystal trident.

In front of her, a crystal ball floated over a small ritual arena. Inside the sphere: a tiny, curly-haired cat, dressed like a walking voodoo fetish. The infamous Tanya. A psychic, a fraud, a former accomplice, and now... a high-maintenance ornament and a sorceress who makes deals...

"Mmmh... you're being dramatic today, Chief," -Tanya purred, twirling her tiny cane inside the sphere. "Shouldn't you be glad your son is still alive? Also, I told you not to underestimate him."

"My own son? He's literally the product of an arcane error! I didn't even know I had him!" -Najima shouted once again.

"Well, you did. And now he's working at the bar you cursed." -Tanya said with the sense of humor and irony.

The sorceress growled like the strongest earthquake.

"It can't be... If the bar fulfills the prophecy, if he becomes the most beautiful gray cat, if he kisses the heiress..." -Najima said, with concern and hatred towards Marcel.

"Then the bar will be remembered forever," -Tanya finished from within her prison. "And you will be forgotten. Forever."

"Where's my DAMN staff?! Without it, I don't have the power to kill him! I can't even cast a minor sniffle! I'm trapped in this emotional cave with a goth cat correcting my grammar!" -Najima shouted.

At that moment, Tanya raised her tiny paw inside the sphere and pointed a tiny black claw toward nothingness.

"What is that that appeared behind you?" -Tanya asked.

The sorceress spun, and there it was. Her staff. Standing. Luminous. As if waiting for her.

"...What? Who brought it? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" -Najima asked.

There was no response. Only a mocking echo from the staff itself. She grabbed it. Felt it vibrate. The power was returning, like an unpleasant memory that also smells good. And then, without caring the consequences, she raised her arm, pointed it skyward.

"Oh, my old friend... together again! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha... Now, with this reborn power, i will fulfill my dark propuses and kill my own son, and the Marglow Bar will be forgotten... FOREVER!" -Najima shouted happily, as if she lost her mind completely.

A thunder clapped for her. Tanya saw her with a mix of concern and fear. She knew what was happening.

The evil plan... was about to begin.