A Prologue

Hello dearest readers! Dessy appears to be busy doing homework (shame on her, for procrastinating) and Arlyn is very, very sick (“super sick”, he likes to call it) and though I am probably catching whatever my brother had, I am here to present today’s post. To being with, a formal apology for the wacked out schedule of our posting. We swore it was going to be regular, every Monday and Friday like clockwork but then …. ya know …. school and …. life kinda got in the road. But we’re working on getting back on track, we promise! No guarantees though …. finals are coming up kind of soon …. Anyhow! Just a special treat for those of you who are waiting patiently for today’s post, here’s the prologue to my origin story! (Something Dessy, Arlyn, and I dreamed up in our free time, the story behind our internet personas. I can promise you they’ll be a nice mix of fantasy, reality, and insanity.) And since it is only a prologue, that means more to come! Sorry for this extremely long and irritating author’s note. Enjoy and have a fantastical day (or night)! 


Magic, it was like alcohol. The more you used it, the more you needed it. It coiled up in your blood, eating away at you unless you used it. Of course, it would kill you anyways. Human bodies weren’t meant to contain magic. There were ways to survive, dark ways. Street magic. The rich elite would seek out those special few well versed in the ways, tranversing dark alleyways and rival gang territories to find the elusive cure.

She was running, it was all she knew. Forward, one desperate step at a time while the air was sucked from her lungs and her breaths came in heaving gasps and the ground was a dusty blur.  The cold air stung, but she relished the forward motion, her muscles burning while the ground faded into distant miles, her vision blurry and sweat pouring down her face, working the hate out of her system.

“You’re only going to hurt him, Wish.” Zara had said, leaning against the dusty brick wall of the school, her teal hair shining in the afternoon light. She laughed, a dry humorless sound. “It’s in your blood. You can’t escape it. We’re heart breakers.” Zara smirked, snapping her fingers so a small spark sprang to life as she lit her next cigarette.

“Says you,” Wish said, jutting her chin out as she crossed her arms. “Just because you’ve been to rehab and back doesn’t mean you’ve become oh so knowledgeable about the world.” Zara laughed again, a thin trail of smoke escaping her mouth.

“Be real, Wish. No one’s ever going to love you and if they do, they won’t for long.” She leaned closer to Wish, her hair draping delicately around her shoulders. “You and all your problems, you think anyone is really going to put up with that?”

“No,” Wish muttered reluctantly, her head hanging low. Zara sighed and set her hand on Wish’s shoulder.

“There, there, Wish,” she said softly. “You’ve got me, yeah? And the rest of the Reapers.” Wish hummed a yes before shrugging off Zara’s hand and turning to walk away.

“Bye,” she said quietly, her voice bitter.

“See ya,” Zara chirped back. Wish walked further into the city, the blue translucent signal runes glowing gently in the streetlights. They hummed with quiet energy, a comforting sound to those they were meant to protect and a sound of warning for those who didn’t belong.

“Look what I found, boys,” a voice snarled from a shadowed part of the street. A quiet chuckling echoed around the empty space. “What’re you doin’ out here so late … and alone, little girl?” Wish said nothing, instead edging closer to one of the signal runes.

“Those won’t help you,” another voice, this one sounding younger, said. “Them’s only for the special ones.” Wish turned and flashed them a bright smile, her eyes gleaming.

“What’s to say I’m not one of the special ones?” She asked them, baring her teeth as she pressed her fingertips gently against the rune. It sparked briefly before the gentle hum of energy suddenly grew louder as the rune flared.

“Holy,” she heard one of the men mumble as the flare grew steadily brighter.

“Careful,” she said, her voice fierce and fiery. “I’d hate to see what happens to you when the gang get here.”



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Hey! Kalsooni Allskye here, sometimes known as Cattydragon. To introduce myself ... I'm generally a very sarcastic person prone to sudden musings in the middle of dull conversations as well as that mad dash for some paper and pen when a sudden idea hits. I enjoy a great deal of music and reading, but I don't so much enjoy social outing. So there you go! A bit 'bout me.

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