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Hanging by a thread

After the genocide of all elderly wizards, the surviving families went into hiding Following a prophecy, the wizarding colonies around Europe assembled a council of their own, destined to overthrow the tyrant currently terrorizing the world. Thanks to an accident though, the new council ends up stranded in the Amazon forest with no means of communication or ways to return. How will they bring down the tyrant if they are stranded in the middle of nowhere?

Angellove · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
7 Chs

Prologue

Walking through Chevrolet Street, the young witch weaved light and darkness around her like a black widow. An invisible net coated the woman, concealing her presence from prying eyes and blending her lean form into the background. However, a single glance around her would deem such actions unnecessary, for rarely would the woman come across anyone else. The little neighborhood was mostly silent, save from the rare sounds of hurrying steps most likely returning to their homes and the whispers of conversation behind closed windows.

In the corner of her vision, she could see posters, the contents of which she could not quite decipher amidst the dim light. A gentle afternoon breeze blew a small flyer across the cobblestone pavement, setting it gently upon her feet as if in silent invitation.

A shadow rippled across her face, as if the mere sight of it caused her pain and sorrow.

With a hurried pace, the woman skipped over the flyer and continued on her way.

Her steps came to a halt before a little bar, the establishment almost hidden and discreet beside the looming apartment buildings and shops. A jingle of a bell announced her presence, yet none of the customers paid her any mind. Subtly, she surveyed the small space, searching for her old companion. Her eyes rested upon many unfamiliar faces, but eventually, her gaze lingered on a table at the far back and its occupant.

Her eyes lit up in recognition.

The man hadn't put particular effort into disguising himself. He had merely thrown on an oversized coat and pulled an old-fashioned cap over his eyes. The collar of his coat hid the back of his neck and the sides of his face.

However, the young weaver could have recognized those rebellious black locks anywhere.

Head hung low and steps light, so as not to draw attention to herself, the woman approached the already intoxicated man. Making herself comfortable on the chair across from him, her eyes fell on the multiple shots laying empty on the wooden table.

She couldn't seem to help herself as she asked, "You've had this much already?"

The question elicited a chuckle from her friend. Finally, his gaze was lifted and she found herself looking into a pair of seemingly dazed brown eyes that glinted with hints of amusement.

"You were late, and I just couldn't sit here and not take a shot."

"Or multiple."

The smile he gave her was not unlike the ones he used to offer her all those years ago. Wordlessly, her old friend nudged a glass of whiskey her way. The black-haired woman eyed it and looked at the man with an arched brow.

"I'll just have a lemonade."

He shot her a look of exasperation and disappointment before commenting, "You are still lame." He downed yet another shot. "You haven't changed at all, Hyun."

"You are not the one to tell me that, Alexander."

She didn't know when exactly the waiter had approached them, but suddenly a glass of cool lemonade was placed on their table. Startled, Hyun glanced up. The waiter stared at them, stared through them, with a gaze clouded by mist. After serving her, he turned and left without another glance their way.

Hyun whipped her head to the smirking man before her. "How can you use your magic on this man like that?"

"Quite easily," he assured. Oh, for this she was certain. This wasn't what she meant, however, so the woman shot him a glare that had him scoff and roll his eyes. "Oh, shut up. He's used to it!"

Sure enough, when Hyun turned again to look, the poor waiter was standing behind his counter, rag-dressed hand sweeping glass after glass in smooth, swift motions. The hum ringing from the back of his throat signaled little to no distress. In fact, his eyes met hers for a second, and Hyun was certain he had flashed her a smile before the woman diverted her gaze.

Alexander had been examining her. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. "Told you."

She gave him an exasperated look, but there was fondness, kindness, in her eyes---impossible to hide, even in the dim light of the room. She was certain that Alexander, thanks to years of working with patients, did not fail to notice. However, as fun as it was to jab at each other like old times, there were more pressing matters at hand, looming over them like vicious snakes of poisonous jaws.

Her face hardened. The gleam in her eyes faded.

"Have you seen the posters?"

The playful smirk gracing his lips wilted. His gaze swept over to the empty glasses as if wishing he could materialize more liquid into them. With another quick glance at the waiter, Hyun was almost certain he had just sent a silent request for yet another round.

"They're all over the place. It's hard to miss them." His dazed manner of speaking made understanding his words all the more challenging, as Hyun had never been able to quite grasp his Greek accent in the first place. His words were much like a jumbled mess, but the woman did her best to follow. "I still can't believe what has become of this city. It used to be so lively, very colorful. Remember when we were in school? You could barely walk in these streets." His eyes seemed to soften for just a second, lost in the memories of simpler times.

"But now," he went on, his voice a low grumble, "Now it's just emptiness and bare. The only colors are of the stupid graffiti on the walls. Those symbols aren't even pleasing to the eyes."

As discreetly as possible, Hyun glanced over a shoulder and around her. No eyes were turned their way, but there was no such promise regarding prying ears. She leaned forward and hissed,

"Will you keep your voice down?" Her fingers tightened around her glass of lemonade. "We don't know who's who."

Alexander's eyes flickered to the side for a heartbeat. "We don't."

The Greek man bent forward, chair bumping against the wall behind him with a gentle 'tap'. Hyun stared at the browns and flecks of green of his eyes, before noting the gentle tug of his hand against his coat. She glanced down and sucked in a breath.

Within his coat's inner pocket sat a familiar white envelope.

Almost instinctively, pale fingers reached up to the little pocket of her suit jacket. Slipping inside, they offered a small glimpse of the contents---the faded white of the letter was a contrast to the midnight black of the fabric.

Alexander didn't seem fazed. Instead, he just snorted.

"You were the biggest nerd I knew." His eyes glinted with humor. "Of course you'd be invited."

Hyun mocked offense with a click of her tongue and an arch of her brows. "You, on the other hand, were nearly a tourist. What business do you have with this?"

Alexander looked at her with amusement before leaning in, almost conspiratorially, and smirked. ''Learning doesn't stop in school, Hyun. I have seen things,'' with that he got up and looked expectantly at her.

Wordlessly, the woman finished her drink and took out her wallet to pay for them, even though Alexander tried to stop her. After that, they left the small establishment and walked out in the autumn night air. The breeze was still blowing gently around them as their figures disappeared in the darkness.