Of Magic And Monsters

0.5. Of Blood and Death

Prologue

Of Blood and Death

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A once starry night became nothing but miles of baleful red. It stung my vision and burned into my skin with its slick, warm liquid. It hurt, like swallowing gravel, but I managed to cry. I cried to the sky in hopes of hearing something in return. I called for the God's above to bestow upon their magic, much like the magic bestowed upon me, and erase the red stain on the Earth's bed.

Like a flower that has wilted, there is no way to undo. There is no magic that can tick the clock backwards. Time is forever forward. Never backward. That isn't how the universe was created.

The stone necklace that clung to my skin warmed up with power. I felt it shooting within my veins, daring me to retaliate. I wanted to retaliate. Oh, such an irrational need with the full of a thousand arms. Rational. Irrational. It no longer mattered.

Emotion was one thing that wasn't supposed to control us. If it did, we would die. We were supposed to cast it away and live the robotic life that had always been our fate. My initial mistake was allowing the rage and sorrow to fill my heart until it exploded into clouds of unyielding darkness.

Darkness. Red. Everywhere.

"With the snap of my finger," I spoke with a shaky voice. The area was forebodingly silent. Not a cricket dared to share its music, not even the whispers of the wind. All that stood near was me, the two dead bodies to my right, and a wolf. "You shall disappear."

Everything that followed was a blur. He pounced; red eyes full of disgusting anger, directed solely for me.

This spell... it will ruin me. I may lose it. My magic. My identity. Everything.

Bloodied bodies caught my attention in the matter of milliseconds. My best friends were sprawled on the ground with gashes deep into their skin. They died protecting my life and I would throw away everything to protect their souls.

The wolf was midair. Patches of fur hung loosely on his roguish figure. His teeth were crooked and yellow, stained with the blood of my companions. This was a little of his creations, and that only made it all worse.

I raised my hand and snapped my fingers just before his body could collide with me.

And, just like that, he turned into dust. The particles stung my eyes and the effects of the spell numbed my body. Every ounce of magical power drained out of my system; I could no longer stand on my own two feet, as my knees buckled under the pressure of gravity and weakness.

First, my knees pressed into the red soil, then my trembling hands. Unable to hold myself up, I felt the side of my face make contact with the cold liquid. The particles of the wolf floated aimlessly in the air, reminding me of everything I had just given up.

That spell is one I was never supposed to preform. Dark magic; such a taboo concept in the magical world. Still, I did it, I took that risk, causing the magical essence in my blood to seep out of me, out of the wounds that had been inflicted earlier that baleful night. A witch without magic is nothing but a worthless shell. A being without reason.

Still spilt down my soot-coated cheeks. Despite the exhaustion, I kept my eyes open, not willing myself to even blink away the dirt that flew in. I couldn't look away from the dead corpses several feet away from me. Rory and Kimberly. Maybe it was my mind paying tricks on me, but it looked like they were holding hands. After all this time.

Three orphans searching for their destinies; that was what we were. Together, we scrounged this violent world in hopes that some land, some island, something could be called out home. "I'll keep looking," I whisper into the night's air. They can't hear me; they're dead.

That day, with the full moon at its highest crest, I was supposed to die alongside my friends. That red-eyed monster was meant to kill the three of us, as its master would have wanted. As I lay there, breathing in the dust of my slain enemy, I knew what I had to do. Let the world think that Cecily An died alongside her friends.

Magic continued to deplete from my body, but there was one more thing I needed to do. Raising my shaky hand, I allowed magical energy to shoot from my palm. A fire hot enough to turn bone to ash and ash to nothing but particles enveloped the bodies of my friends. I listened to the crackle, smelt the repugnant burn, and waited. Waited until I could rise again as a ghost.

This isn't over. I reassured myself of those words, over and over. It wasn't over. It would never be over. The ruby circled by gold chain that rested on my chest burned a powerful glow. I pressed my palm into it, willing the sting to dig farther into my skin.

Cecily An is dead. She died alongside Rory Dodger and Kimberly Quinn. Tears kept falling from my blurry eyes, but I smiled at the moon. I mocked that moon. Tomorrow, when that moon is dead and gone, my body will still be here. Yes, Cecily is dead, but she isn't gone.

Bones cracked and groaned as I pulled myself up to stand. My magic was gone; I couldn't feel it any longer. Turning away from my friends' burning corpses, I trudged through the thick of the forest. The fire would spread, and the message would be sent.

Blood soaked my every article of clothing. Farther from the fight, it chilled my skin and pulled into an itch. I breathed in the smell of copper and debris. And yet, the ruby raged on as it rested, seemingly peaceful, against my angrily beating heart.