The Astounding Adventures of Eva White: Disappearing Souls

Part One

Dear Eva White,

I write to you in a state of great alarm. I fear a terrible evil has taken root in one, Miss. Stone. As you well know Miss. Stone is a very talented mage indeed, but now I only fear that her mystical expertise has failed her. Her eyes... There is, what can only be described as a demonic light in them, Miss. I am ashamed at how long I have taken to pen this letter to yourself,  these suspicious events panning over the better part of a month. Perhaps more ashamed of how long it would have taken me if it wasn't for the disappearance of a local girl. Awful screams can often be heard from Stone's cottage, truly blood-curdling screams and I hate to think the these two unbecoming circumstances are tied together but I fear my intuition holds true. If I may so bold as to request your services, I'm sure the poor girl's family would reward you generously for your efforts in whichever way they are expressed.

Yours Faithfully,

Craig Dobersmith (Owner of The Dog and Duck Public House)

Eva stuffed the letter into her coat pocket. Her pint shook on the countertop as she fiercely rose from her seat. Slamming a coin next to her half finished drink, Eva ran from the warm tavern.

Outside, the wooden porch was dusted with snow. A beautiful occurrence, Eva supposed, under less dire and potentially fatal circumstances.                                                                                                                         "Son of a-" Eva muttered under her breathe, treading lightly through the snow.

Miss. Stone, or as she was most commonly referred to as, Viola was in grave danger. Eva knew that her friend would not be the cause of pain in any intentional manner but she was also intelligent enough to understand the dangers of baring yourself to a world of sprit and mayhem.

The cold iron kissed her fingers as she fumbled with the lock. Flinging open the flimsy, wooden door, Eva burst into the stable to face several horses. The horse on the far left was a plain creature. It's coat a continuous, muddy brown, with a mane of near black. On the right of the stable, a huge black horse drank sloppily out of a decaying, wooden trough. After surveying the shed, her eyes fell onto her own steed. A magnificent animal, that towered over Eva with ease. His enormous, equine body was a pristine, almost painted white; covered all over in midnight-coloured spots, in an almost Dalmatian-like fashion. The steed's leather tack was worn but obviously polished, as was the silver emblem emblazoned with a 'W' attached to the corner of the horse's brow band. Subconsciously, her fingers grazed her own ring, her soft skin meeting with the grooves of the ring and the 'W' she knew her eyes would find if she had the time to look down. Eva reached to her belt, detaching her sheathed sabre and hooking it onto her horse's saddle. Her horse, Eugene remained still, positioned in a stance of dignity. Hastily, she tightened all of Eugene's straps, eager to climb onto the horse. Eva grasped the reins, carefully coaxing Eugene out of the paddock.

The icy tendrils of the wind struck Eva in the face, reddening her cheeks and forcing her to grimace. Getting all the way to Derbyshire would be difficult, Eva thought as she expertly swung herself up onto the familiar seat of the saddle. The Sun was close to setting, as was to be expected on a mid-Winter afternoon. It would take a full day of pure riding to reach the village, perhaps more. So, kicking her feet into the stirrups, Eva pulled the reins and began her journey.

Eva leant low over her horse; her hair lashing in the wind like an inky whip. Ferociously, she gripped the reins, her pale and capable hands tightly clenched. There wasn't far left to travel now. She felt the urgency of the situation creeping into her blood. She urged Eugene to go faster, the beating of his hooves against the terrain created a clouds of dust in their wake. Vast hills loomed all around her, shades of emerald and jade encloaking her. It had been two hours since she had set off from the warm tavern, in Chester. Evening was beginning to fall, and Eugene clearly needed to rest, if only for a moment. Eva urged her resilient steed on for another quarter mile, before veering over to a sturdy oak.

She slid off the horse, the worn soles of her knee-length boots connecting with the hard-packed earth. She peered into the saddle pack to examine it's contents. It was modestly packed, containing only a few apples, a handkerchief full of blackberries and a flask of what Eva liked to describe as 'liquid warmth'. Along with a map and compass, which would hardly be useful to her horse. Eva ground her teeth at her poor preparation. In her line of work, she should never have let her supplies get so low. Eva liked to call her job title 'a morally-askew adventurer'. Safe to say this didn't stick. Viola very much liked to tease her, calling her a 'pony-riding problem solver'.

Viola. The memory of her burned like a hot branding iron in Eva's throat. Eva had only known Viola for a few years, but their friendship was the longest and steadiest relationship that Eva had been apart of since... it had been a long time.

Blinking back tears, Eva pulled an apple from the pack. She ran a thin, pale hand through Eugene's ash coloured mane as he messily ate the apple out of her other. After completing the rather-too-small-for-a-horse apple, Eugene cocked his head at his raven-haired rider, as if telepathically asking for more. Grimacing and slightly shaking her head at her horse's silent request, Eva wrapped her lithe arms around Eugene's spotted neck. There she stood for a moment. Arms around one of the only steady figures in her life and on a snow topped journey to rescue another. The pearly snow peppered her waist-brushing hair, glistening like sunshine on a river. Eva released Eugene, closed the saddle bag and in another expert motion, swung herself back on to her horse. Her posture as confident as ever, she brushed of the top of her head, untangling the persistent snow. She reached into a deep coat pocket and extracted a leather tricorne hat. Eva straightened the hat on her head and leant low over her horse. She pulled the front of her hat low, almost but not quite concealing her large, topaz eyes. With a snap of the reins and a determined smirk plastered across her face, Eva resumed her journey down the faint dirt path.