Indigo's Owl [Indigo Rewrite]

Chapter 1 - Owl

In the dark of midnight near the heart of a city that rarely slept, a cloaked figure perched on a narrow ledge above an alley, impatiently waiting for her prey to arrive.

A glance at the clock on the side of a distant skyscraper confirmed her suspicions — her target was late. Any other night, she'd have pulled out her new book and been content to read until the unsuspecting individual arrived, but this wasn't any other night.

Somewhere in Sirah, there was an idiotic villain about to unwittingly blow up half the city, and Athira had every intention of stopping him.

She gave the alley one final look through the black tint of her mask. It was still empty, but she was done waiting. If her target wouldn't come to her, it was time to hunt him down.

Athira pushed herself off the ledge. The dark fabric of her cloak fluttered around her as she dropped, her boots hitting the ground with a satisfying thud that reverberated up her legs. She pulled her cowl up over the pointed sides of her mask and strode towards the single, flickering light that marked a heavy looking door in the alley's depths.

Three steps from the door, Athira reached for the Colour that simmered beneath her skin. Without breaking stride, she covered herself in a thin layer of Black and phased straight through the solid door.

The inside wasn't lit much better than the alley. Athira counted three men sitting around a table to her right, with a fourth and a fifth chair pushed out and empty. Engrossed in their game, they didn't notice her, so she walked closer. With a flick of her wrist, the layer of Black around her coalesced into a thin, liquid-like tendril connected to her fingers that swiped the dice off the table.

That got their attention. The three at the table erupted out of their seats with flickers of Red, Yellow, and Green as they activated their abilities and prepared for a fight.

"I'm looking for Reader," Athira said calmly as the Black dropped the dice into her waiting palm, then coiled around her wrist. "Tell me where I can find him and I'll give your dice back."

"How'd you get in here?" demanded the man closest to her, pointing the Red-shaped longsword in his previously empty hand at her.

Beneath her mask, Athira raised an eyebrow. Red was the Physical Colour, able to create or 'shape' solid objects into existence — and this genius had apparently decided that, despite the confined space, a longsword was his best option. "Walked straight through the door."

"The door's locked for a reason, girl," said the second man, one eye glowing with Yellow as sparks fizzled off his fingers. The Colour of Energy led to some interesting abilities, but Athira doubted this one could do more than a few second-rate lightning bolts. "Means you aren't welcome."

"And here I was, assuming my invitation got lost in the mail." Athira locked her gaze on the man at the far end of the table, recognising the way he glittered under the dim light. He was a Green — the Colour of Change — and his ability turned his skin into diamond. "I've seen you working for Reader. Where is he?"

The Green with the diamond skin stared straight back at her, wary. "You're the Owl."

The other two hesitated.

The Owl. The name that the Underground had given her for the mask that shaped her cowl into points and the layered black cloak that fluttered like wings when she flew. The name she'd earned in the last several months as she hunted them down one by one, a silent doom from above.

All those dramatic rumours, and yet she still had idiots like this who got that look. As if they were sizing her up, drawing confidence from their buddies — like it mattered if there was one or one hundred of them. They all saw a short girl in a mask and had to make her prove it.