More Than Ordinary: The wings of the raven

Chapter Two: Mysterious figure

  Lyta was shocked when Brandon said her last name. She was looking at him in the dimly lit room, like he emerged from the shadows like a clandestine enigma, his dark hair a cascade of obsidian waves that framed a face etched with an air of mystery. His piercing green eyes held the secrets of a thousand untold tales, like emerald portals into a realm where enigmas whispered and riddles danced. Each glance from those kaleidoscopic orbs carried the weight of untold depths, stirring an intrigue that lingered in the air, leaving onlookers captivated by the enigmatic allure of the young man with the midnight-dark hair and eyes that held the mysteries of the universe. Her eyes widened like saucers, and her jaw dropped so low it practically touched the floor—an electrifying revelation sent shockwaves through them, turning her disbelief into a performance worthy of a jaw-dropping circus act.

  As Lyta stepped away, a wisp of nightfall seemed to trail in her wake, her silhouette gracefully navigating the tapestry of shadows that clung to the edges of the conversation. Her chestnut hair cascaded like a cascade of autumn leaves, a curtain concealing the thoughts that now swirled like tempestuous winds within her. The air around her shimmered with an ethereal tension, as if the universe itself held its breath in anticipation of the mystery unfolding.
  She moved with a fluid grace, each step echoing the delicate dance of uncertainty, and her emerald eyes, usually vibrant with curiosity, now held a tempest of emotions. Behind her, the guy stood, his words hanging in the air like unanswered questions, a palpable tension bridging the widening gap between them.
  Lyta's departure was not a retreat but a pause—a moment suspended in the delicate balance between revelation and comprehension. The world outside awaited, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, while she sought solace in the rhythmic cadence of her footsteps. The enigma he had unfurled left her heart pounding, and as she disappeared into the night, Lyta embarked on a journey of introspection, leaving behind a trail of intrigue and the promise of unraveling mysteries.

  In the quaint embrace of their suburban house haven, the Lennix family huddled in shared concern, their cozy home bearing witness to the weight of their collective worries. The air buzzed with a palpable tension, each familial heartbeat echoing the delicate cadence of their little boy's ailment. As she was heading back home, Lyta saw a strange figure on the other side of the street. It had long black robe and it's head was covered with a big hood. She couldn't see it's face but chills ran all over her body.

  The weather was frightening, grey clouds were over Cambridge. Above, the heavens brooded in a sinister tableau, as if an artist had dipped their brush in the ink of nightmares and swept it across the expansive canvas of the sky.  The atmosphere, pregnant with an ominous energy, crackled with the foreboding intensity of an impending storm. It wasn't night yet but the day was as dark as the clandestine embrace of midnight's cloak.

  Something inside Lyta was making her go and see who or even what was that standing on the other side. She was curious. But like every young green girl, the fear was stronger. She continued on her way back home. The young witch turned back to take one last look at the black cloaked figure, but it was gone. Like it evaporate.

   Lyta opened her house's door and took a deep breath. Didn't matter she finished early today, she felt exhausted. She put down her keys on the commode in the hallway. Then she looked up into the mirror and there it was. The black figure from the street was right behind her. Lyta jumped out of fright, making her turn around. Nothing. No one was there.

Lyta rubbed her head, thinking she's starting to go crazy. She took her way up to her room. As she was about to enter it, she heard voices.

"We can't do anything to cure him now. He's sleeping and he's too weak..." she heard her father's voice.
"Then what should we do? We can't leave him like that neither, David." her mother said.

Lyta knocked at their door and opened it.

"Hey, guys. What's going on? Why are you at home?" Lyta asked as they looked at her, worried.
"Your brother is not feeling well, Lyta. We're thinking of a way to cure him."
"He's probably using "the sick" spell, he'll be fine soon."
"It's not the sick spell. I checked him. He drank a potion."
"What? Why would he do that?"
"He thought he will be able to grow wings and fly to your grandma." Marnee answered.
"What are we going to do about it?"
"You are not going to do anything. It's too dangerous." Marnee looked her daughter with her warning serious face. "Your father and I are going to find a witch— The witch of the dead." Marnee took a deep breath, knowing what she's getting herself into.
"What? The witch of the dead? Who even is that?" Lyta knew nothing about that witch her mother was talking about but there was that strange feeling of knowing she should know more about her.
"It doesn't concern you, Lyta? We're going to get through this one way or another." David said, looking Lyta as he warned her not to get involved. "What stops us for now is that we need a better plan. That witch won't give us anything unless we pay a big price. We have to think through everything she might want, we have to think through what are we going to do with your brother while we're gone."
"I can watch after him. What should I do?" Lyta asked, concerned about everything that's going to happen the next few days.
"It's okay, sweetheart! We want you to think about your studies. We already called your aunt, she's going to look after Quinnim and she's already on her way." Marnee said and walked towards Lyta, she held her face with one hand and gently stroked Lyta's face. "You don't have to worry, Lyta. We got this!" Marnee assured her daughter.

  Maybe half an hour went by and the three of them were sitting, thinking what should they do next. Lyta, concerned for her little brother, was listening carefully to her parents talking about their plan. As they were talking about the witch of the dead, the only thing she could think about was the figure she saw moments ago.

"Guys, I think I have to tell you something." Lyta said, gaining the attention of her parents.