The Melissa Curae Chronicles: A Magical Aspect

Prologue

Carol and Jeffrey picked up the two smaller suitcases and threw them as far as they could out the window. The children were staring up at the house in shock when the suitcases landed next to them with a thud. The suitcases seemed to snap the children out of their shock, and they began to run towards the flames.

Carol and Jeffrey shouted at them from the window, trying to wave them away, but the children kept on coming. Jeffrey kept shouting, but Carol grabbed his hand and pulled him further into the room.

"Should we . . . ?" Asked Jeffrey, coughing.

Carol tried to speak and began coughing as well. She nodded instead. Jeffrey muttered something under his breath. Then, putting his left hand on his heart, he moved his hand down his chest. When his hand got to the bottom of his chest, he put his right hand out, palm facing away from him. A symbol of a barn owl with its wings spread out, a trident behind it, and a crook and flail underneath it began to form with a shimmery gold hue before disappearing.

"I guess we did eventually pick a side, in the end." Carol said, gasping for air.

Moving to the only couch still standing, they pulled close to each other, leaving no space between their bodies. Carol buried her face into Jeffrey's shoulder.

"I love you," she whispered, tears evaporating as they ran down her cheeks, each breath becoming more labored. Below them, the girl was about to charge in, but the boy held her back.

"Catherine, don't!" He shouted.

"Let go of me, Joshua!" Catherine cried.

Before they could argue any more, the house exploded. Joshua and Catherine were thrown back toward the suitcases. Laying dazed on the beach, Joshua rolled over and took Catherine in his arms, holding onto her. They stared at the hole that was once their home.

Sirens could be heard in the distance. As they arrived, police and firefighters jumped from their vehicles, shouting for backup. The ashes fell on everything and everyone like a fine black and gray snow that smelled like burnt wood and gasoline. The fire's heat was intensifying, but the children did not move. People rushed all around them as they lay still, watching. 

Hiding in the rocks that marked the end of Joshua and Catherine's beach, four figures were waiting, watching. The group's strange clothes would have immediately garnered looks if they were to walk down the street; however, their inhuman attributes were what truly set them apart from any crowd. Two men, shirtless except for a band of metal around their chests, had the heads of dogs—one gray fur, the other white—known as cynocephali. One of the four, the only woman in the group, was a sphinx wearing an armored shirt on her torso and helmet on her head. The fourth appeared to be a man. His entire body was draped in black, including a mask on his face. Only his eyes, which stared intensely at the children on the beach, were visible.

"My Lord," said the sphinx, looking toward the one in black, "what shall we do with the children? Their aspects generate so much power I could feel it two miles back. At first I thought it was their parents, but now . . . they could be a great threat."

The white cynocephalus pointed a gun at the children, prepared to shoot, when the one in the mask knocked it out of his hands.

"Imbecile!" He hissed.
The white cynocephalus snarled, "I was just taking out the threat."
The masked man glared with such disgust and annoyance that the cynocephalus looked away.

"My Lord."

The masked man cocked his head. "Indeed. It is evident that I see things more clearly than you do. There is no need to take them out, they will not be a threat. No point in spilling powerful blood, now is there? We need to keep them close. Especially the girl. Her aura is strong with the sea, a perfect balance."

The sphinx's face soured, "You're sure my Lord? You think she is the one?"

He shook his head, "Not entirely, but it may be her line. We must keep them away from our enemies. We need to keep them safe." His voice was full of longing and hunger. The way he said "keep them safe" was more like "keep them prisoner."

Looking toward his followers and then back to the kids, he walked down to the beach. No one saw as this unusual group consoled the children. No one saw the children being led away from the flames and the first responders. No one saw the black-clad man break away from the strange group. No one saw that with one flick of his hand his outfit changed from black robes to a suit, and as he took off his mask it turned into a briefcase. The man in the suit talked to the first responders for a time before he too went away from the flames. No one questioned the absence of the children.

Finally, the flames abated, leaving nothing but a charred foundation and broken walls. A van pulled up to the ruins, and two women stepped out. One, a very tall and lean elf wearing a toga, the other, a female satyr wearing only a shirt that stated across the front, Fauns be haters. They walked through the ruins and looked out onto the beach.

The satyr crouched down and picked up a clump of gray fur. "We are too late."