As a child, she studied about a process called crystallization. She learnt it by heart.
Then, one Wednesday night, her mother created a crystal with her tears. It was not something Tilo was supposed to see, but she saw it anyway. That night taught her a valuable lesson about crystal formation.
You see, when a witch creates a crystal, she leaves some of her essence in it. The crystal becomes a reflection of her body, mind, soul, and her very specific powers. So, when an angry witch creates a crystal with the tears of wrath. the crystal becomes a red, glaring wound that never heals. When a heartbroken with creates a crystal with silent tears, it becomes a bleak, blue pain that never goes away. When betrayal forms a crystal, it becomes either a rare shade of revenge.
This purple crystal came to their shop about four years ago. Nobody knew where it came from. George and Tilo watched the camera footage for hours to find out who left it in the store. There was nothing. One minute there was this empty spot on the shelf, and the next minute the crystal sat there proudly. The perfect round shape made them wonder about its origins. As emotions, crystals were always uneven, asymmetric, rough and raw. Rarely a witch crystal of a perfect shape was found. Humans use the perfectly shaped ones, they would shape them, polish them, and sell them, without knowing how that can diminish a crystal's power.
"Crystals often find their way to their owners," said George, scratching his chin. He gave a sideways glance to her. Tilo was only eighteen then. Her entire witchcraft was revolving around making love potions those days. She had simply shrugged and returned the question to George. "Did you buy any chance created a strange looking crystal when you were... I don't know... drunk or something?"
She knew George was not capable of such, he did not have the intensity in his emotions.
Kevin took a step back fearfully and said, "Who is that?" The question made Tilo feel relieved- she was not the only one to see that face. Crystals can sometimes play tricks on their viewers. While one see their happiest memories in them, others witness their doom.
"Don't touch it."
"I wasn't planning on it." Kevin gulped and repeated his first question, "Who is that man? Do you know him?"
"Nope," Tilo frowned and observed the face on the crystal. It was only partially visible. Deep set eyes, long nose, thin lips, and detailed bone structures made his face look beautiful, but there was something not right about this beautiful face. There was something off. After observing him for another minute, she realized what was it. It was his eyes. He had dark eyes, so dark that the pupils look black. The darkness somehow seeped out of his eyes and darkened his face entirely. It was a darkness that eclipsed his beauty.
Tilo knew what the darkness was. She took a step back and instinctively guarded Kevin with her right hand, her left hand clutched the talisman she wore as a pendant.
"It's something dangerous, isn't it?"
"Yes, it may be. Move back and get me my phone." Tilo heard fast footsteps fading behind her. Her shoulders were still tended, but she could breath a little better now, knowing that a young, innocent human being would not shed his blood tonight.
Seeing the visions of a demon is never a good omen. Seeing demon on a crystal for more that three minutes is even worse. Usually the visions stay only for a minute or so, if it is a life and death situation, it stays still for a little longer. Having this face staring back at her for such a long time can mean only one thing, he was seeing her too.
She glanced around nervously. The rug was kept on a different shelf, across the shop. She closed her eyes and summoned the rug with all her might. There were Arabic verses written all over the rug, a reminder of its true purpose. It made her job more difficult. The more power an item holds, the more difficult it is to handle them.
She felt heat accumulating in her palms. It was soothing, like the sunlight on a dreary winter dawn. Slowly, the words appeared in the air, brown, glowing, the beautiful cursive of the foreign script hung in the air for a moment before they bind themselves to the fabric. The fabric was, at first, a faint feeling in her hand, then a softness, and finally she could feel the real texture of it. It was rough, uneven, a handwoven item that held blessings of an elder. Once the rug materialized completely, she flung the rug over the crystal.
Better leave it covered.
"Here," Kevin came huffing behind her. He handed her the phone and started at the crystal, now covered. "What are you going to do?"
"Call for back-up, of course. You need to leave now."
"But-"
Tilo glared at Kevin, who still looked pale. He looked as though he had been forcing himself to speak, or even breath. "Will you be okay? I am worried."
"Don't worry. It's just a botched ritual. I will fix it."