Spellcatcher - Dreamnotfound

Prologue

If a person were to describe the sight of a shadowed, cloaked figure hurrying briskly down the street on a bitter Saturday evening, they may call it scary, or possibly even monstrous. 

But in a slightly strange fashion, there was a sort of eerie beauty about it, in the way the man's cloak swirled about his slim frame elegantly, or maybe in the way his sharp, stunning blue and brown eyes glittering alluringly with drops of the honey golden evening sun, to those who bothered enough to look.

But nobody did, and so the man was free to walk at his brisk pace along, ignoring the mildly fearful looks he gradually brought to his frame as he strolled down the street.

Fear was common in these parts- Or really in any parts at the moment, with such a war. People were so afraid of what the Magics could do- What if suddenly they rose to power again, despite being brought to only a few thousand in population?

In the many decades of battle and destruction, it had happened. So who was to say it wouldn't happen again?

To be quite honest, that wasn't exactly what the man was worried about at that moment.

Because- at that moment- as he approached a small corner cafe with a few people inside, he was worried about the chill that painted pink in smooth brush strokes across his fingertips. And he was also worried that the cafe would be out of hot cocoa before he got there. 

The man pushed his hood off to reveal brown hair accompanied by relaxed, but rosy kissed skin. He was far shorter than his eerie demeanor made him seem, with what were apparently clout glasses perched on the hem of a dull blue shirt hidden underneath his cloak. 

The brunet carefully opened the door to the cafe with a soft, even relieved sigh, his eyes flitting nervously around as he scanned his reflection in the window. Seemingly satisfied, he took a few steps inside.

He approached the counter briskly, resting one hand on the smooth wood, his other hand searching his jacket pocket for money. His mocha and ocean gaze flicked over the menu silently.

A woman who looked a few years older than the young man approached the brunet with a warm smile. "Hey, what can I get you?" She asks cheerfully, wiping her hands on a cloth before placing it somewhere below the counter.

The boy paused. "Um, just a hot cocoa if you don't mind?" He replied, a hint of an accent sprawled across his tongue.

The woman nodded. "Of course, just a moment. Your name, please?"

"George." The brunet responded, his gaze falling to his scarred hands.

"Thank you." With that, the woman whisked away to prepare the beverage.

The boy backed away from the counter, lingering near a table a ways away as he waited for his order to be completed. He caught a glimpse at the stormy skies outside before his eyes drifted back to his feet. All he could hear was the chatter of people and the clatter of machinery that swarmed his ears and echoed in his head.

"George!"

The brunet's head snapped up at the sound of his name, his order prepared. He took a few steps forward to take his order off of the second counter, only to hesitate. His fingers brushed the edge as the felt the cocoa inside seem to shake abnormally.

"Shit.." He hisses under his breath, making eye contact with the lady. "Get down."

"Excuse me?"

"Get down!"

George flinched backward, ducking below the counter as, looking to be even on cue, the glass window in front of the cafe shattered.

Time slowed.

The explosion made his ears ring loudly, the sound echoing eerily through his head. Shards of glass that brought ominously beautiful sparkles of light flew through the air, their shine reflecting in the Magic's irises.

And then everything sped back up, and George scrambled to get better cover.

Screams of terror and anger rung out over the street as soldiers stormed inside. The shrieks only grew as a tendril of blue magic made itself visible. People tried to get away from it, or even find where it was coming from as the magic burned one of the soldiers' arms and fizzled out.

Each soldier was armed with a knife and multiple guns, George noted from his spot behind the counter. The lady was slumped beside him, a shard of glass in her skull. George turned his head away.

The scars on his arms glow softly as he shifted in his spot, the smallest orb of magic forming in his palm. It was weak, though, and worry began to tie a tight knot in his stomach.

People began running for the exit. As soon as everyone was gone, George's magic slammed what was left of the cafe door shut. The soldiers began to search the place, their guns crackling against eachother ominously.

The small Magic scrambled silently around, his brain searching for something, anything to do that would get him out of this. He had no idea how the soldiers had found his location, but he did know he wanted nothing more than to be out of here.

His hands were shaky, but he managed to perform a bit more weak magic in between his palms.

But of course, his efforts were in vain, as many are.

Because just before he was about to dash for the door, he was seen.

A yell. Pounding, aching pain in the back of his head.

And then, darkness.

✾☾✾

—

Word count: 932

..and so it begins.

(Ignore this if there's another part lmao) ✨that is✨ if you guys enjoyed it! I'm really excited for this plot— However I only want to keep it if you, my readers, enjoy it as well! 

I'd like to see how much you like it as a sort of test, so this won't be updated:

1. Until I finish Wasteland. I don't want to stress myself out! 

2. Until I figure out if it's worth continuing— so if you enjoy this, let me know! I most likely will continue this if I either get good feedback or none— lmao 

Anyway, if this continues, I hope y'all are excited because it's going to be fun!

Have a wonderful day!

-Melli-