The Secret Sisters: A Sort of Prologue

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The arrow comes out of no where. Lodges itself in a tree. Hm. Old school.

I smirk.

It doesn't last long. There's a cry of, "Die, witch!" and I'm thrown to the ground with a homicidal maniac clawing at my throat.

I grab their wrists and flip them over. "Use your words, love! Much easier to solve problems with words. Wouldn't you agree?" They're blonde, but that's the only new detail I manage to pick up before they kick me in the gut. I land on my ass with a wince and rub my abdomen. "Geesh. Guess not. Whoa!"

They throw me farther then I thought. I don't see them jumping at me again until the last minute. They swing something. A knife, I think. Or an axe.

(But that's a fairly big distinction.)(It is very sharp, I'll tell you that.)(It's probably a knife.)(It's too small to be an axe.)(Shame. I would love to battle a lumberjack.)

I only just manage to scramble out of the way before they take my frickin' head off, but they do get a nice clean cut through my palm as I am bolting.

"Ow, ow, ow! Jeesh!" I hold my hand close.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Are you okay!" The homicidal person drops their weapon (which is probably not an axe, but I really hope it is). An odd reaction, I must admit. The more tactful thing to do would be to run me through with it while I'm distracted. Oh well. Each to their own.

"That h-u-u-r-t-s!" I know, I know. I sound like a wuss, but in my defense I have never been cut up by a homicidal person before. At least, as far as recent memory serves. "Why would you do that, huh? That is so rude!"

"I'm sorry!"

"What are you trying to kill me for, eh?" I squint at them. Not that I've got a better view of them now that we're still. I can tell they've got a lean frame, a feminine voice, short hair, and they're about as tall as I am. Which I guess is fairly tall. Their body language suggests they do feel a fair amount of guilt, which I suppose should make me feel better. Meh. "You work for Pravus?" All I can think is they're not very high maintenance for a witch assassin. Must be a trainee.

There's a pause. They stare at me for a long time; and while their face is blurry to me, I can still tell they're frowning. They're tense now too. "What?" They know something. That's clear. Goodie I'm becoming quite the detective, eh?

"Pravus. Eluo Pravus," I repeat. "Do you work for them? Is that why you came at me just now?" I pointed in the general direction of the arrow. "With the shooty and swipey?" I mimicked the knife swinging. And then winced. Hurt my hand. I'm dumb sometimes, apparently.

"Prav ─ no. I-I don't work for them.  I don't kill things. Not anymore." They stoop down to pick up their weapon (which is most likely a knife, as we've decided).

I raise my brow. Recent events would certainly contradict that statement, wouldn't you say? "Then what was with the whole 'Die witch!'" I hold my arms out and stomp around making monster noises. To show them how stupid it is, you know? "What've I ever done to you?"

"Really more that you exist..." the homicidal blonde mutters.

"That's not a nice thing to say! Ouch." That second part is because me, dumby that I am, had placed my still bleeding palm on my hip before remembering my injury.

(Should probably seek medical attention, huh?)(Should also probably be more concerned about.)(Eh. Whatever.)

"You don't even know me!"

The blonde winces and stands up. "I...I'm sorry, alright? I-I'm going through some stuff right now..." It sounds like she's about to start crying.

(Which is strange seeing as how I'm the one who's just been attacked.)(I'm also the one with the bleeding hand.)(What's she crying for?)(Maybe it's just me.)(Apparently, I have a habit or making people cry.)(Something about being 'scary' and 'mean spirited.')(But come on! When a boy gets hit with a Bat Bogey hex it looks pretty funny.)(Even if the boy is eight.)

"Oh, well, if you're going through some stuff, I suppose that makes the attempted murder alright, doesn't it! Listen, we're all going through stuff! Me? I've had all my memory before this year erased and I'm fairly certain I've been kidnapped by cult leaders. Who are also nuns. Or something. I dunno."

I frown for a minute. It sounds ridiculous out loud. "So, I understand 'going through stuff' but that's no excuse to be mean!"

"I said sorry!"

"Well, I do not accept your apology." My hand is very sticky, now. And I am sure my shirt is ruined thanks to this person. So uncalled for. Hmph.

"What if I helped fix your hand up?" They reach for the bag slug over their shoulder. Somehow I'd missed it. Or maybe they'd summoned it with magic.

(No. I forgot. They're Pravus.)(Or ex-Pravus, apparently.)(That means they're most likely a muggle.)(I have no idea where that bag came from, then, but I'm sure it wasn't there before.)(I'm usually very observant, despite being blind.)(I'm having an off day.)

"It's fine," I sigh when they bring out a first aid kit from the bag. Muggle methods are more effective, especially in the case of cleaning and mending wounds, but they take twice as long. I'm learning that I am a very impatient person. So. "I'll just use magic."

With the wave of my hand the cut is gone. I just hope it was clean enough. It would be a bit inconvenient if it had been infected. I don't know much about healing magic, see, just enough to fix myself up in a pinch, you know?  The useful bits. But fat lot of good it does if the wound is infected. Then you get sick and die. Not sure about you lot but I prefer not to get sick and die. It really puts a dampener on my plans.

Another pause. They're staring at me. I can't make out their facial expression, exactly. At least, I'm not sure what to call it. Jealousy? Envy? I always get the two confused. Which one involves lusting after something someone else has?

At first I wonder if it's my looks they want. I've been under the impression that I am a very attractive individual, so I can understand that. But this person, as far as I can tell, is fairly pretty as well. I mean, I can't make out any scars or break outs or freckles or anything that might turn a lesser human being off.

(Although none of the above is a deal breaker for me.)(Hence the 'lesser human being' bit.)

It's an illusion, I'm sure, courtesy of my blindness and the overwhelming beams of sunlight sprinkling through the forest's trees, but the previously homicidal blonde appears to be emitting an angelic glow.

(Which doesn't make sense, of course.)(Unless she is an angel.)(Or a Veela.)(But I've never met a Veela who glows.)(They are hot though.)(So, yeah. Angel.)(Actually, I'm not sure angels exist, but if they do I'm certain she is one.)(I'm pretty sure I can see a halo above her head.)(Anyway.)

"Want a picture, love?" I grin when the ex-Pravus agent still hadn't stopped staring. Not that I'm complaining. Attention is my best friend.

This person doesn't seem to hear me, however. Shame. I love banter. "I'm supposed to have that," they mutter.

"Pardon?"

They tense. Guess I wasn't meant to hear that. Whoopsy. "I - nothing. Shut up."

"You're very rude for an angel."

They huff and start trying to pull their arrow out of the tree. For some reason. Maybe so they don't have to look at me. Which is also rude. Eye contact is very important in conversation.

(I'm also having a time of deciding if their eyes are blue or grey.)(It's hard to tell with this much lighting.)(I want them to stand still so I can get a better look.)(Is that a crime?)

"I'm not an angel." They mumble again. Something else I suppose I'm not meant to hear. But I hear it anyway. "I'm not even a proper witch."

"Witch...?" I frown. It doesn't seem very Pravus like to let witches in. They kill witches. "Hold on. What do you mean your not a 'proper' witch?"

They wince. And by now they've given up on dislodging their lost arrow. They still look fairly angelic though, and despite the fact that moments ago they were trying to kill me I find it quite hot. What can I say? I'm attracted to danger. 

The angel looks very sad. I think a normal person might give them a hug to comfort them, but I'm not normal. So, I'm not sure that's the right thing to do. "I...was born to a wizarding family. One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Pure-blood. Highly respected. Blah, blah, blah. But I...was born with this birth-defect that makes it so I can't use magic..."

"You're a squib?"

They flinch, like the word physically pains them. "Yeah. I guess."

I laugh. Maybe it's rude but I can't help it. "Angel, love, that's not a birth-defect."

"Well, to my family it was."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Yeah. I am too."

There's another pause. It gets old fast so I move the conversation along. "You have a name, Angel? Or can I just keep calling you Angel? Angel seems to work just fine. I'm going to call you Angel."

"No, no. I have a name. I'm...uh..." They look around the forest clearing the same way people do when their looking for something to help them lie better. "I'm White..."

"Yes," I smirk. "I can say you are." And the sun really is accenting their pale, nearly snow white skin, which, to me, makes them all the more angelic. "But we're discussing names, love, not race."

I'm sure they're rolling their eyes, and I revel in the fact that I can still irritate people without much effort. A talent of mine apparently.  "That is my name. My last name. At least, I think, that's what I'm going to use from now on."

"From now on? Not your family name then?" Like I don't already know they've made it up on the spot.

"No, I...I don't want you to know my real name. I ran away from them."

"Doubt I'd know the name anyway, Angel. I didn't grow up with the pure-blood lot. At least... I don't think I did..."

They make an odd face. "You're a muggle-born?"

I shrug. "Could be. I don't really remember who my parents were, do I?"

"Right." They nod and point at me, recalling what I said earlier. "I forgot. Your memory thing. Sorry."

"S'alright. Long as you didn't take them. You didn't, did you?" I squint at them. Not that I really think an angel like this person can hurt anyone. They're too pretty.

"No."

"Then, we're golden!"

"Great!"

"Yeah! Oh, by the way, do you have a first name?"

"Cari."

I grin. "Carrie White? As in that Stephen King character?"

They stare at me. "I have no idea who that is."

"He's a novelist. Horror genre. Terrible endings. Carrie's cool. Do you spell it the same, too? C-A-R-R-I-E?"

"One R. No E."

"C-A-R-I?"

"Yes. It's short for Carina." Ah, a woman from the stars. That proves it. She's an angel. an angel.

"Beautiful, Angel. Although, it would look cooler with a K."

They consider this for a moment. "K-A-R-I. Yeah. Okay. That would be pretty cool."

"Very cool." I wink. "You'll be a girl, then?"

"Well... yeah. What else would I be?" Kari gives me a look like I'm asking something stupid.

I shrug. "You could be anything. I myself refuse to stick to any one label. I find them to be quite restricting."

"That's...huh. I didn't know that was a thing..."

"No?"

"No. But, to be fair, I was imprisoned in my own house for most of my life so..."

"Ah. Don't worry about it, Angel. We'll eradicate the ignorance together." 

She smiles. It's very pretty. I'm assuming. The sun blokes most of her facial features. But I like to think this person is very hot. As you've gathered by now I'm sure.

"So..." Kari is picking at the feathers on the arrow in the tree. "What's your name, then?"

"Still working that one out, to tell you the truth." I'm sitting a rock, now. My feet are tired. "People call me Seven... long story," I add when she gives me an odd look. "But I like Ven. Or Venny. Sounds less like I'm a number to be picked off. Although, I was snooping around ─"

"I only just met you and I can already tell that's really on point for you."

"Thanks! Anyway, I was snooping around and someone called me Amaryllis once. So, I think I'll take that one for when I'm feeling more feminine, you know?"

"Of course." Kari nods. "The logical thing to do."

"Exactly! But I think I'll have to shorten it. Can't find many key chains that say Amaryllis, can you? I'm thinking Mary, maybe. Or Amy. Amy is a nice name."

"Amy is a nice name."

"Thanks!" I grin.

Kari smiles again and I swear there's a choir singing somewhere in the distance.

(I might be making that up.)(Alright, I'm making it up.)(But she is very pretty.)

She hums softly. It's a nice sound. "Last name?"

"How should I know? Suppose I'll just make one up until I find out, eh?"

"How about Egret?"

I stare at her. "Egret? Where'd you come up with that?"

She points at the necklace I'm wearing. I don't realize I'm messing with it until she does. "It's the picture on the pendant."

"Is it? I just liked the colour."

Kari pulls a face. "I hate green. It is an ugly color."

I gap at her, completely offended. "Green is a lovely color!"

She shakes her head. "It is an awful color."

"How dare you! It happens to be my favourite color."

"Gross."

"And I hear it looks really good with my hair. What color is it by the way?" I pull a few strands over my shoulder. "Some people tell me it's brown. Some say it's red."

Kari examines my hair for a moment. "Like dark red, yeah."

"Lovely!" I grin and take a moment to consider my new name. "Anyway."

(We'll just ignore the fact that Kari doesn't know a cool color when she sees one.)(Obviously she's brain damaged.)(But she looks like an angel so we'll let it slide.)

"Amy Egret... I love it." I know it's dangerous to let your emotions run wild, but I can't help it. I'm ecstatic. Finally. A proper name. An identity. A life of my own.

I grin back at Kari, who's smiling back at me with that lovely smile of hers. "Well, Kari White, I think this is the start of something beautiful."

"Even though I cut open your hand and shot an arrow at you?" Kari asks.

"Eh." I wave my hand in dismissal. "Water under the bridge." 

"Really? Just like that?"

"Yeah, why not?"

She steps closer to me. It's easy to see how tall she is from where I'm sitting. The sun hits just right, and she's wrapped in an aura of pure, celestial light. "I don't know. There's a lot of dangerous people in these parts, Amy Egret. You wouldn't want to go getting mixed up with the wrong sort would you?"

"Are you insinuating I can't tell the wrong sort for myself?" I lean up, which puts us very close to each other. If we'd been closer friends I might have kissed her just then. But since that's obviously inappropriate for a first meeting, I settle for finally checking out her eyes. They're grey. Stormy. Like clouds. In a storm. Descriptive, I know. But despite my less than poetic mind, they're really nice. I could get lost in them if she'd let me.

"You're still talking to me, aren't you?" I wonder if she's going as mad as I am right now.

"Now you're saying your dangerous, are you?"

"Well, I did just try to kill you."

"Mhm. So you did."

She moves away and frowns. It makes me sad. Because I was enjoying the color of her eyes and because it's heart wrenching to see a beautiful person look so torn. "You don't want to be my friend, Amy."

"I'll decide for myself, thanks."

"I'm not a very good person."

"Which means your the one who can't tell the wrong sort from the good ones," I conclude. 

She folds her arms and huffs. It looks more cute than intimidating. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, actually."

"Obviously not. You fell in with a bunch of assassins."

We stare at each other for a long moment. It feels like we're squaring up for a fight. But we're not. I don't know how, but I can tell she's not as bad as she thinks she is. And besides, I don't like being told what to do. I'll make friends with whoever the damn well I please.

"I could still kill you. Right now. Literally stab you in the back."

"Go ahead then."

She doesn't move. I like to think that means I'm right. She is good. An angel.

She hesitates for another second, and then, slowly, she gives me another one of those angelic smiles. This one is smaller than the others. Less certain. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in the eleven months I can actually remember, Angel." I hold my hand out for her to take. 

She makes a face. "Well...okay. But you'll have to stop calling me that."

"Awe." I grin, batting my eyes at her. "But you're so cute. Like an Angel."

She rolls her eyes. I'm assuming. "Here's to new friendship, I guess." And then she shakes my hand.

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Note: Heh. So, that was fun. Sorta a rough draft. First time Kari and Amy meet each other. Obviously. Will be in the Secret Sisters series when I get that. Just a small taste. This scene has been in my head forever so I had to get it out there.

What'd ya think??? First impressions of Kari and Amy??? What do you think their biggest flaws are from this look at them? Do you resonate with either of them? How was the chemistry? 

I'm tired so this isn't edited and I can't think of anything else to say. Hopefully it's not garbage. It was fun to write anyway. But yeah. I'm going to bed now. Goodnight

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