The first time it happened, it was snowing.
It fell from the sky. Just millions of crystalized flakes all swaying and swirling in slow and lazy dances as the wind blew, hollow and cold. Heavy soles crunched the snowy pavement as cars splashed through the puddles in the streets. Soft murmurs and chapped skin, and the smell of cinnamon hot chocolate lingered on the breeze.
And gentle humming.
It was barely audible. Just childish fa-la-las accompanied by giggles and the hops and skips of a small girl no older than four years old holding her mother's hand. Harmless...until it wasn't.
She wasn't paying attention – she was four. She was small and young, and oblivious, but that was all it took. That was all it took.
She hopped into another puddle, not paying any attention. That was when she collided with something – or someone – hard. The force from the impact sent her tumbling back, losing hold of her mother's hand, and landing promptly and firmly on her bum. The coldness of the snow dampened her clothes, seeping through her jeans. The chill instantly nipped at her skin, and she shivered as she looked up.
"What the...? What the hell, kid? Watch where you're going ya damned brat," an older man with horns snapped. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were trained on her. They were cold and sharp – sharper than his pointed horns – and he did not appear happy. "Tch. Fucking annoying ass brat."
"Excuse me," her mother said, stepping before the man. "I apologize for my daughter, but there's no need to talk to her like that. She's just a kid."
The man tore his gaze from the girl and looked at her mother. He scowled, "This fucking thing belongs to you?"
"Pardon? Thing?" Her mother's voice was sharp and wavering. She could hear the anger in her tone.
"Teach your spawn how to walk like a fucking person. What's she hoppin' for, anyway? This is a public sidewalk, not the fucking playground."
"Watch your tone."
"Who are you to tell me what to do, bitch?"
A clutch of fear gripped the little girl's heart as a circle of onlookers began to form around them. She glimpsed at the different faces, noticing the expressions. Fear, concern, anxiety. All the things she felt.
She slowly reached for her mother with a trembling hand. "M-Mama..."
The man saw and snarled, "And who the fuck are you? You interrupting me? Ya little bitch. You still aren't fucking listening."
He raised a hand high. So high that it seemed so far away to her. So distant and foreign. She didn't know what he was going to do, but at the same time, she did know. And she froze. She couldn't move. But her mother did.
It happened within an instant.
As he lifted his hand, ready to strike her, her mother spun ready to shield her child, but before the man could even reach her, a sudden shift rode in on the final breeze. A cold and icy gale that shimmied the overhead trees, the chills darting the length of her little spine.
Breathless, her mother flung herself onto the ground, holding her daughter, her own body bracing for the impending impact of the man's hand, but as they stayed there, the snow still falling, it never came. Only a silence that dripped with anticipation and dread. And then a soft and confused voice.
"What are doing down there?"
Her mother jolted and pulled away and they glanced up at the man. He stood, a single brow raised, with several people gathered – people who had been about to restrain him, most likely. They looked confused and baffled, more at him, but he looked at the girl and her mother with equal expressions.
He shoved his hands into his coat's pockets. "You shouldn't be down there. It's a public sidewalk for fuck's sake."
With that, he moved around them, his heavy shoes shuffling through the snow. They watched him go, his back growing further and further away. Just leaving as if nothing had happened. The people who had gathered started to disburse, mumbling and whispering among themselves.
And though she couldn't fully understand all their words, she could make out the amount of concern and confusion that had been present. They were all confused. The strangers, her mother, her. No one knew what had happened.
"What just...but he was," her mother said, slowly rising. She turned and looked down at her daughter, knitting her brows. "Illika...what...what did you just do?"
And, oh...how cold did those words felt...
**Ello, ello all my fabulous lovelies! So, as you can tell (if you've read any of my other fanfic projects) this prologue does not follow my typical setup. With this being a fanfic with an OC in it, I decided to try something else. But yeah. I hope the prologue has piqued your interest. If it has, then you know the drill! I hope you're ready for more! Thank you so, so much for everything! Keep being awesome sauce! Wuv yous!! <3**
-Noel Ross
P.S. Illika: ill-i-k(uh)
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