Strange Little Girl, Where Are You Going?
“A bit to the left, and... there.”
Cáel hoped the landlord— if there even was a landlord, that is— didn't mind him carving runes onto his door. It was only a precaution, after all, and they certainly weren’t permanent, or anything silly like that. He could call them off any time he’d like.
...Well, that's a very different question, now is it?
He stepped back to admire his work. A circle of intricate shimmering orange runes burned on the door’s grainy and flimsy wood, interlacing with each other to weave his desires into the very fabric of the door, then, as if touched by a soft breeze, simply... dying away.
Just another ordinary door. Cáel, of course, knew better, smirking at the faint ghostly image that still lingered on thr wood.
It was a simple abjuration, quite easy to visualize, you see, even for a amatuer like himself — just imagine everyone except yourself (and servant, he supposed, though he might need to place a conditional geas for that one) being pushed out.
Magic was a rather imprecise science, really, when you thought about it that way.
He didn't know if it could stop the kind of people that lurked in this city— well, actually he did, and the answer was a very solid no— but, at the very least, it could buy him some time, and that time could make all the difference in the world.
“Alright,” Cáel murmured, turning towards the sliding door to the porch. "Now, the porch...” He didn't know why they put a porch in this room, now that he thought about it. The only thing it overlooked was a scenic alleyway. How charming.
Cáel slid the door open, then froze.
Something was moving on the roof across from him.
Stepping back, he squinted, and then sighed, feeling rather silly.
That ‘something’ was a young girl, no older than fourteen, from the looks of it, sitting on the roof’s edge.
...But, there was a golden radiance about her, far too regal, too strong, for someone of her age, and— and what? It flickered just out of his sight, a darkness, as black as oil, dripping with contempt, but— what was it? He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure it had been there at all.
Maybe it was just the dark.
Maybe he was just seeing things.
He didn't usually see things.
Guarded, but not so guarded— powerful or not, she was still just a girl, after all, and he at least felt very certain about that— Cáel stepped out onto the porch and leaned over the railing, looking up at her. “Seems a little late to be having an adventure, don't you think?”
Dangerous, maybe, but even dangerous children were still children. They held no hate in their heart. Not yet, at least.
“Stargazing, maybe?” He added with a smile, craning his neck to see if any were out tonight. Not a one. Hm, reminded him of home — too much of home.
“Bit too smoggy for that, I’m afraid.”
