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by Thomas Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1446308
Clarrisa has finally found a home with The Agency. Yet something isn't right.
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"Feu"

The ancient French word was barely off my lips when instantaneously the nearest candle to me burst into flame. I scanned the area quickly with the witch's sense. No one was here.

I was not being chased anymore.

What was happening to me?

I have spent the last eight days in this city without as much as a strange stare, yet all of a sudden it seems some residents of New Orleans wanted me dead.

I had a mission. I couldn't turn back now, I was here with The Agency.

The Agency.
I had been with The Agency for ten years...it seems just like yesterday......

"Clarrisa, the power of the witches flows strong in your heart. I am proud to call you a member of The Agency, one of the world's best defenses against evil. I congratulate you on your membership here, and let you be productive." After saying these words of extreme kindness and nobility the leader of The Agency handed me my official crystal necklace, which was a symbol of being one of the few called by The Agency. The crystal was cold on my neck, yet I did not care. The crystal gave me acceptance in a world which called me a freak. This council knew I was no freak. I am worthy of living. My life shall be spent slaying evil.

Had it really been so long? I tightened my grasp on the cold crystal around my neck and prayed a silent prayer of thanksgiving.

As I contemplated these thoughts in my head I took a step onto the hotel balcony. New Orleans was a beautiful city, save the few alcohol-ridden streets. The smell wasn't too great either, but the city oozed culture and ethnicity. This city was also a witch's paradise. New Orleans was on a geographic nexus of power, which explains the rather dark and mysterious past of the city. Only The Agency knew the truth behind such cultural phenomena's as voodoo, the various ghost hauntings, and of course the extremely high murder rate of the city.

A witch's powers are intensified in such a city. I could easily stay here my entire life.

Yet, my thoughts have digressed too far, I have a mission.

My mission was quite simple.

Last Monday The Agency called to tell me about a young girl being held kidnapped by some of the country's most vile witches. The witches' names were famous in The Agency. Milo and Silo Richard were some of the most ruthless magic casters ever known in the history of the country. They were the cause of many natural and human disasters. They murdered merely out of amusement, because it was their only fun. The only reason The Agency kept from attacking these two witches, was because The Agency claims they want to promote inter-witch relations. Yet everyone who works with me knows the truth. The Agency has a dark unbinding treaty with the two witches. I know a lot about the treaty. I was the one who got them to sign it, all those years ago....

"Hello Clarissa, how are you today," Milo spat the words in my face.
I said rather politely, "Milo, Silo your time is up. You have to come with me."
"I don't think so young lady, we rather like it here", spoke them both together.
I then grabbed a single water crystal from my purse and flung it between the brothers, and simply muttered the word, "S'ecouler." The word hung in the air a minute, then the blue crystal exploded in a wave of moisture. I spun my hand downward to control my spell, but the brother simply countered my spell. Before I knew it, I was on the ground with two knives brought to my neck.
"Oh Clarissa, you fool. You cannot stop us," spoke SIlo rather aggressively.
The blades lingered on my chest for a few moments, until unnoticed I raised my hand to mutter, "Moulage." The word burned on my tongue, for my magic was weakening the more I used it. Luckily, my spell worked, and the two daggers at my neck melted into a silvery substance which now pooled the floor near my shoes. Silo tried to grab my neck with my bare hands, but I had performed what I needed to do. The second the two brothers recoiled at the melting daggers, I had drawn a small circle on the ground. I had placed the treaty on the ground. It was now up to the brothers to either accept the treaty, or declare full war with The Agency. As I walked out the building rather haphazardly, I felt a sudden wave of ancient magic in the air, and I knew the deed was done. The darkest treaty known to witch was just performed.


I can't believe The Agency made me do that mission. I had been a new recruit at the time. Luckily, I had strong magical powers. Sometimes my abnormal powers were more a curse than a blessing. Yet, The Agency gave me self-worth. That was more than the real world could have ever given me.

I decided my next course of action would be to disguise myself. Witches had various ways of disguise, but I was thinking of a disguise without magic. I was going to get myself a masquerade costume. After all, it was Mardi Gras.

Mardi Gras is one of the strangest holidays I have ever been introduced to. I was raised on a simple farm, and I had never been introduced to such frivolity. There was alcohol everywhere! Drunk people littered the city like flies littered trash cans. Yet, one could not deny these people knew how to have a great time.

As I walked the streets, I scanned the area for the brothers. The treaty should have prevented me from detecting the brothers. Luckily, the treaty was broken. A girl was kidnapped, which was an obvious violations of the treaty.

I sensed them near Bourbon Street. How ironic? As I silently walked to the area I found small white crystals littering the ground. I grabbed one larger piece and brought it to my mouth while saying, "reveler." The revealing spell identified the crystal as a warding crystal. They knew I was here.

I knew I was wasting too much magic, yet I had to do just one more to hide myself.
I sent my hand downwards and spoke surely the old words, "Je Pron." A wave of mist erupted from the ground in long tendrils. The mist surrounded my body from plain view. I took off towards the brothers.

The energy seemed to be coming from a rather omniscient-looking building. When I reached the door I found an ancient rune painted on top of the doorway. It seems the brothers were trying to keep me away. I took a small pocketknife out my pocket and sent it soaring towards the rune. The knife hit right in the middle. The rune glowed a golden yellow color, then it faded into nothingness.

I grabbed my pocketknife and continued.

I walked up the stairwell rather cautiously. I kept sending revealing charms left and right. I was weakening, but I needed all the help I could get.

I used my pocketknife again to unlock the topmost door. I could feel the energy pulsing from the door. They had two sharp daggers waiting for me on the other side of the door. Instinctively, I closed my eyes until my breathing became rather hushed and shallow. I continued this impromptu breathing exercise until I could feel the magic slowly recharging in my body. I spoke the words my grandmother taught me as a child, "La Nature De La Bete." The words caused me to double over in pain. The pain was great! I had performed this charm a total of three times. Each time was misery and torture. My body transformed and twisted in antagonizing shapes. My body slowly and painfully morphed into the body of a common cat. It took me a few seconds to find the right state of mind. I felt like hell.

I sent my left paw into the door furiously, and sent a small knocking noise into the room. Even this small movement of my paw caused me great pain.

"Oh Silo she's knocking! What a clever girl!", spoke Milo.
"We better answer it then brother!", spoke the other.

Silo, or maybe Milo, I couldn't tell in my nullified state, answered the door. My magic was almost erased in this feline form. Yet, I had the power of surprise. Sometimes that power was stronger than all else.

The second the door opened, I ran into the room. I sensed the girl in the closet and rushed forward at her. Something was wrong. Everything was black. I found the power around me draining dramatically, and I was instantly pulled back to my human form.

DAMNIT! The brothers had put me in a Ciel, which was a temporary realm of nothingness. I was basically stuck in a black hole! They must have saw my transformation somehow, but that was impossible.

Number one, this was a surprise mission. No one but The Agency knew about this. Even the world's strongest witch couldn't have sensed the plan, especially with the warding spells I sent out.

Number two, it takes hours to create a Ciel. It is incredibly difficult and powerful magic. The entire council together couldn't create one in less than four hours.

Number three, you need your enemies hair to perform the curse. I was in New Orleans less than a week, there was no way they could have gotten my hair.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

I sent my hand instinctively to the green crystal around my neck, and tried to summon power from The Collective. The Collective was a store of untapped energy The Agency created solely for the use of dire emergencies. The only way to touch this great power was through one of the green crystals. Using The Collective had one major drawback. Every person who had a green crystal knew who was using The Collective. The face of the person using it would appear in every crystal.

This was an emergency. I could deal with the humiliation at The Agency. Surviving was much more important.

The green crystal, usually blistering cold, was now warm with raging power. The power coursed through my entire being. I felt more whole with this great power inside of me. I felt invincible.

As the power reached a climax, I yelled out the ending spell, "Terminer!".

The black box around me started to melt away. I could faintly see the two witch men staring at me with a surprised look on their faces. I instinctively grabbed one of the men's knife and sent it through Silo's fat neck. I heard the crunch of the bones, and I knew I had killed him. The blood stained the wooden floor murky red. Milo, rather crestfallen, sent a huge blast of energy my way. Normally, an attack like that would leave me unconscious, but The Collective's power was still pulsing from my body. I sent up my hand and deflected the energy blast. I sent a finger to Milo, yelling, "Fletch Flamma!". I felt my index finger burning with the effects of my spell. A flaming arrow shot out my finger, and pierced the yellowish skin between Milo's bulging eyes. He fell instantly.

The carnage of both of my offenses lied around my feet.

Luckily the girl was in the closet, and could not see the bloody entrails which covered the ground.

I quickly sent a masking spell to her. I did this to keep her innocent. There was no reason she needed to be exposed to this kind of evil.

I grabbed her hand, stepped over the two dead men, and led the poor girl out of the room.

As I was leaving, I saw Milo's neck.
A single green crystal hung off his neck.
I could see my face through the crystal.

Yet, I could not worry about that now.
The power of the arrow I had shot sent the curtains ablaze.
Me and the poor girl rushed out of the room.
When we got out onto the street I lifted the masking spell from her.
I noticed her face for the first time that night.
Her face was wrong.

She had fine blonde hair, but her eyes were black as coal. She was a fantoche, a puppet.

This was a fake girl.

Questions came flooding into my mind all at once.

Why did Milo have a crystal?
Why was there a ciel in the room?
Finally, why was I sent halfway around the world to save a fake girl?

There was only one answer to all of these questions.

The Agency had betrayed me.

I was betrayed.

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