When Magic Speaks - NaNoWriMo 2020✔️

3

With every step she took, every breath muttered whispered word of the Knightengale. The Knightengale, having earned the title of Hural's most infamous myth, seemed to have come to a realized fruition. At first she had assumed the whispers were about her, they usually were. But it was a breath of fresh air to realize the whispers were about another. The Knightengale was rumoured to be a shadowy figure from another town that haunted the Hural streets when the moon was at its highest peak. He was also rumoured to be an oversized crow that snatched up your newborn child the moment you blinked. It was debated on whether he was even a he. The possibilities were endless. No one had ever seen the Knightengale until last night. Taun, one of the royal guards, had been on patrol when he'd spotted it. Only a glimpse, as quick as a wink, but he was certain it was the Knightengale. At least, that's what Wiss had picked up on.

Despite the attention today being dragged away from her, she could still feel the eerie gaze of passerbys as she walked. It would never end. Her public image and the public image of her grandmother would never change in this town. It was a deceiving place. It was like a spoiled egg. It looked quaint and harmless on the surface but crack it open and the contents will make you nauseous. The people here were grimy, unforgiving, relentless. If you made one mistake, dipped one toe out of line, the town wouldn't hesitate in turning its back on you. Most days this was a blessing. Wiss was able to shop and wander around without distraction seeing as she was avoided like the plague. Her potential use of magic was her dipped toe from the line of normality. How criminal.

Wiss had successfully acquired a bundle of carrots, an assortment of honey jars and a bag of milk during her shopping endeavours. Now all that was left was the flour and eggs. But as Wiss curled down a side street, nearly fumbling over a loose stone in the process, her ears picked up on the faint sound of sniffling nearby. She thought to investigate - there was only so much negativity this town could handle before it crumbled beneath them. Wiss peeked behind barrels, behind crates and booths. Nothing. That was until she passed the darkest cubby in the alleyway. There was where she spotted the source of the sadness.

Wiss slowly crouched down as she laid eyes on the little girl. She barely shot a glance at Wiss, desperately cradling a battered ragdoll to her chest, like a mother and their newborn.

The girl continued to sniffle. The beauty with children was that for the most part, judgement hadn't yet been engraved into their personalities yet. This little girl seemed completely unfazed that Wiss Quilm crouched before her. When it came to personal weaknesses, Wiss's was definitely children. Maybe it was the motherly instincts within her to shield helpless youth. Maybe it was caused by her own upbringing. Whatever the reason, Wiss wanted to help.

"What's wrong?" she cooed, cautiously touching the girl's shoulder. This caused the little girl to finally meet Wiss's gaze, her bright blue bloodshot eyes staring up at her. Wiss watched as a trail of snot leaked from the girl's nose like a drainpipe, reminding her of the nappy in her pocket. She wiped it away. "Tell me what happened. I can help."

The girl's bottom lip protruded as she turned her head and pointed in the direction of the main marketplace road. Wiss followed her trail to a pair of young boys joyously cackling over the ratty old doll head they were passing back and fourth like a ball. Wiss hadn't noticed it at first since the doll was so misshapen but once she'd connected the dots, her blood began to boil. Wiss glared as she slowly rose to her feet, slowly walking toward the edge of the alleyway. What (person) doesn't know won't kill them was a common phrase used in Hural. Secrets filled the air like pollen here. And what dear old Amma didn't know was that Wiss was gifted. All along Wiss had assumed she'd been blessed by a fairy one night. Maybe she'd saved one on one of her sleepwalking endeavours. But she knew that magic was dangerous and that Amma would be furious if she knew. So Amma had been lead to believe that Wiss thought magic was poppycock, an ancient myth that had melted away with the changing seasons long before she was born. But Wiss was gifted.