The Avenger's Witch

Chapter 1: A Rough Start

"Remember Ayda, you are special." My mom's voice spoke to me in the darkness of my dream world. "Not just because of your marks, but because you hold power within you that no one else has. People will try to hurt you for it. You must always be on guard. Never trust anyone you don't know. And never go anywhere without Circe." Circe was my cat that followed me everywhere. Why she said this to me was lost at the time.

Then, the screams. The scent of burning wood filled my nostrils. I could see the hallway burning around me as I clutched Circe in my arms. My mother was in front of me, trapped under a wooden beam. My father lay already dead in the bedroom.

"Run, Ayda! Run and don't look back. Promise me you'll listen." I nodded my head, tears running down my cheeks.

And I ran.

Ding!

I jumped upright from my bent position over the counter. Someone had walked in, waking me up. I rubbed my eyes and straightened my glasses. "Welcome to Circe's Bookcorner. Feel free to look around. If you need anything, let me know." The teenagers who entered giggled and walked toward the shelves.

Circe's Bookcorner was my bookstore. I'd been lucky enough to inherit it from my mom after she died. It'd been my home for the past eight years. I sold books on things you couldn't find anywhere else downstairs and stayed in the attached apartment stairs. Circe stretched on her cushion on the counter and let out a yawn. I scratched behind her long pointed ears. She trilled softly. She hadn't grown much from when I first got her. She could still pass for a kitten.

"Excuse me?" I looked up over my glasses. The two girls were in front of me. One stepped closer she spoke in French, which was normal when you lived in France, which I did. "Do you have anything on soulmarks?" I gave a small smile and replied in kind, "It's in the Stranger Things section. Third shelf on the right. Bottom two rows."

They gave their thanks and ran off again. They stayed another ten minutes, chatting, bought a book called Soulmarks and Their Meanings and left, giggling. Soulmarks were our universe's way of showing you who your soulmate is. Everyone got theirs at age 12. They'd burn and itch when you got near each other and turn black on contact. Before that, they were a pale grey. If your soulmate died, the mark turns white. Normally people had between one and three.

Except for me. I had ten. An unnatural phenomenon rarely heard of. The most marks on record for one person was five and that was nearly a hundred years ago. I kept them covered with concealer most of the time. It would attract unwanted attention otherwise. I also had mental shields as well to keep the bond from forming.

I sighed. I walked around, organizing books. My cherry red hair sat in a messy bun on the top of my head. Circe looked at me with one rosy-red eye open, "You sense it too, don't you?"

I forgot to mention that she can speak to me telepathically.

Oops.

"Hmm, yeah. Someone is coming. Someone not welcome." The bell above the door rang again.

"Ms. Ayda Dupoint?" I spun around. In front of me was a man with a buzz cut and a suit. Never good. Plus he spoke in English.

"Can I help you?" I was instantly set on edge. He stood in a way that screamed danger. Circe leaped onto all four feet and arched her back, hissing at him. Careful, he's from S.H.I.E.L.D.

He couldn't understand her as I could, but he seemed wary of her. "I promise I mean you no harm."

I raised an eyebrow, "And why would you feel the need to tell me that?"

"I need you to come with me."

I stiffened slightly at his words, "I see. Well, I don't like going places with people I don't know. So I will ask you, once, to leave while I'm still in a good mood." Circe was still puffed up. She trembled.

"I'm going to have to insist you come with me."

"Whelp, I tried." I snapped my fingers. He fell like a sack of potatoes. "I'll tell you the same thing I've told the past six S.H.I.E.L.D agents you've sent after me. I don't want to help you. What I've just done is temporarily paralyze you from the neck down. Luckily, you can still breathe. I'm not that cruel. It will wear off in about an hour. I'm also wiping where you found me out of your memory. I suggest you don't follow me. Next time I won't be so forgiving."

I snapped again. His body floated up and out the back door. Circe looked at me. "He'll be fine. He won't remember how to find us. Besides, by the time he can move again, we'll be long gone. Which is sad, I kinda liked this town." Circe raised an eyebrow in her weird cat way. Do you even know where we are?

"Somewhere in France, I think. But I promise the next city will be better and they won't find us this time. Maybe" She rolled her eyes and walked out of the cat flap in the front door. I took my pointed hat off the counter and followed her out, flipping the closed sign around and grabbed my cloak on the way. "Here comes the fun part." I raised my arms, "Cludo." The bookshop in front of me began to collapse in on itself. It folded until it was the size of a suitcase but lighter than a shadow. I flicked my wrist, summoning my broom, and attached it. I covered myself with my cloak and mounted it. My red hair melted into its normal dark purple. My eyes shone lavender from behind my square lens.

"Ready?" Circe jumped up onto my shoulder. Ready.

I took off. We climbed quickly into the sky and stopped about a thousand feet up. The stars twinkled further above us. "Attention passenger, we have reached cruising altitude, you are now free to move about the cabin." I giggled. Circe flicked my face with her tail. Must you always act like a child when we're alone?

I smiled. Her light English accent always brought back happy memories. "You know me. Can't relax unless it's just you and me. Now, where should we go?"

Circe turned her head to the side. She looked thoughtful. How about America? We haven't been back since then. It's been eight years. It's time to go back. My smile faded, "I don't know. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters is there and so are they. I don't think I'm ready for that."

It's time you try. Pick somewhere in the midwest. Kansas or the like, where we can be inconspicuous for awhile.

I sighed, "Why are you always the voice of reason?"

Because that's why I'm here.
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Whelp. That was an awkward first chapter. I swear it will get better. Ayda is about 20, so to most people, she's an adult but when she's alone she acts like a child. If it's not entirely clear, this happened a few months before the events of the first movie.

Au revoir