Witchling

Prologue- Polaris

"Two planets divided by blood.
One for the divine, and one for the wicked."

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The Fall of Witchkind was perhaps my most  favourite painting out of all that hadn't been destroyed in the Purge. The Polaris Art Gallery being the painting’s tomb.

My chin rested in the palm of my gloved hand as I chewed on my eraser like gum. My elbow dug into the blank page of my sketchbook whilst I mentally drew the painting before me.

The last Witchkind Matriarch, Bryony Gray, had her pale hand offered out to the Faekind Patriarch. And that was the moment her hand was decapitated and her head found itself on a spike.

Yeah, right. I scoffed, and the eraser lodged itself in my throat. “Crap-” I coughed twice before my guard gave me a swift thump on the back. The eraser skipped on the marble floor like a stone on water. Heat rose to my cheeks. "Crocifissa's knee," I cursed.
My guard chuckled. “This is why Prince Albert insists you have a guard with you at all times.”
My fingers found themselves intertwined with the fishnet tights I wore. “I would have survived.”

“No, a fae would have found your decomposing corpse beneath the painting of our downfall in the morning.”
I sniffed. Suddenly tempted to break something at the thought of a fae kneeling over my dead body. Probably with a smile too, knowing how wretched they were- especially under a two inch layer of pure glamour.
By day, faekind were allowed to visit the Polaris as much as they wished. The witchkind however, despite Salem being the witchkind mother planet, were forbidden from visiting. Only at night was I allowed to visit without penalty or prejudice.

“I'm sure they wouldn't mind to see another witch dead.”

The guard, Samuel, shuffled side to side with his eye on the eraser. “Now don't say that-”

I snapped, “You know they relish in the thought of us being deceased.”

Samuel’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down any word he was about to say. He knew I was right- I hoped.
I pinged my tights against my leg as I freed my finger. Sketchbook in hand, I walked out of the gallery without saying a word to Samuel. I knew he'd follow no matter what was or wasn't said. He was good to me like that.

◇◇◇

The white cat that had been skilfully hidden in the gold frame of The Fall of Witchkind took a weighty exhale. Fortunately for him, the girl hadn't spent an hour in front of the painting like she had the night previous and the night before that. Keeping up a glamour like that for so long was far too draining, even for such a small feline shell. He needed a decent glass of soy milk after he had reported back to his boss.

The cat licked the side of his paws once he could no longer hear the footsteps of the girl or that guard.

And with a twitch of his whiskers, he disappeared.

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{This is something I'm trying out as a sort of summer project. Other chapters will be a lot longer than this, I promise. Please tell me what you think of this, and maybe even take a listen of the song I've included above. ^^}