“Surrender to what is. Let go of what was. Have faith in what will be.” -unknown

Rebekah stormed down the street away from the cafe and waved a cab her way demandingly. The breeze blew her black hair and the sunlight shimmered a hint of blue throughout. Her alter was strong, but weakened in times of extreme emotion. She could feel the sun beaming down on her face, but it had no effect on her or her body. She was unusually cold for how angry she felt. Her body had froze with memories and motivation to find Amira. She had recognized the previous scene, at least what was left of it. The black fog, the strong scent; it was all too familiar. She had gone through this before.

Many years ago, after the passing of her parents, Rebekah was left to live with her grandmother. Rebekah’s powers hadn’t even started to bloom to their full capacity yet, but her grandmother was there to help her. Rebekah had heard stories about the “dark men” that lurked around the bends of the shadows. Her grandmother used to tell her how they couldn’t trust anyone but each other. Rebekah hadn’t taken the rule as seriously as her grandmother had. So when a man came to their front door in apparent distress, Rebekah didn’t have the heart to turn him away. But rather, she invited him in and offered him tea. She had no idea that she would regret her hospitality for years to come. Rebekah was busy in the kitchen preparing the stranger’s tea when she heard rustling and a loud scream in the next room. She walked quickly into the next room and dropped her cup of boiling water on the ground before her. She saw the stranger with his arms around her grandmother’s neck. Her grandmother stared at Rebekah with a look of remorse and sadness. She knew she would never see her granddaughter again. And Rebekah would be alone to find herself and her powers.

“Fly, lille fugl.” she said her last words to her granddaughter quietly. The words seemed to fly to Rebekah through the air, slicing through the tension and sadness. Rebekah felt the familiar saying hit her like a brick wall.

Before she could process what was happening, her grandmother was gone and the stranger had disappeared with her. Rebekah fell to the ground sobbing, cutting her legs on the broken cup. The room was full of black fog and it smelled horrendous. “Fly, little bird.” her grandmother had said. With this phrase, she would always remind Rebekah that in times of trouble that she had no reason to fear life’s struggles, but rather to use them as her strength to fly. But how could Rebekah possibly fly when her world had been destroyed again? She only survived her parents’ death with the help of her grandmother.

Rebekah shook her head of the the past and looked out the window of the taxi cab. She didn’t remember getting in the cab, let alone where she told him to go. She sighed as she felt something drip onto her hand. She quickly wiped tears from her eyes and looked at the taxi driver. He was an older man with brown hair, a mustache and, a beard. He was wearing a blue cap and was bobbing his head and tapping his fingers to the music on the radio.

“Excuse me sir, will you stop at this corner here?” she asked in a small voice. Once the cab pulled over, she paid the man and stepped outside. The sun was still shining and people were still racing by her down the busy sidewalk. Rebekah ran her hands through her hair and look a deep breath. She had to get ahold of herself. There was a girl in danger. Once her grandmother was taken, Rebekah spent years trying to find her and traveling to find those who might know something about people disappearing similarly. She also spent her years to come not trusting anyone but herself; she learned her lesson last time.

Around the age of 16, Rebekah almost gave up in her searches. It had been nearly four years and she still hadn’t discovered much on the disappearance of her grandmother. She received a tip from one of the men at her regular pub. She went to pubs to distract herself from her failures. It eased the pain and no one asked questions about her age. She was ledin the direction of a man named Marcus Cruz, he was supposedly a powerful man who knew a lot about a lot. It wasn’t much, but it was the best shot Rebekah had had in months. Once Rebekah arrived to the supposed location of the mystery man, she felt an uneasy sensation.

Rebekah wandered down the sidewalk with anxiety starting to build up. Why was she even still looking for this guy? He was clearly never going to show up. He was a made up figment she’d been lied to about and had been naive enough to believe. She was never going to find her grandmother or find out what happened. Her grandmother had done so much for her, taking her in and helping her with her powers. Rebekah had never proved to be anything other than a useless kid who kept getting people she cared about killed. She was doing nothing productive to find her grandmother. As she tried blinking back the burning tears streaming down her face, she ran headfirst into someone. Literally. She fell to the snow-covered ground and opened her innocent eyes up at the figure. He was a tall man with hazel eyes and stubble on his face. His hair was a brown, messy mop on top of his head; however, it still managed to look good on him. He was wearing a long scarf wrapped around his neck and a heavy brown coat that protected his whole body from the winter temperatures.. He offered his hand and spoke with concern obvious in his voice. He looked down at her red, puffy face and the fact that it was snowing pretty hard.

“Are you alright? It’s okay. Don’t be frightened, but your alter has gone away.” He took in her slim, shaking body, her wide, deerlike eyes, and he suddenly felt a strong responsibility to help this girl, who could not be over the age of eighteen. He smiled awkwardly and offered his hand again. She sniffed and grabbed it cautiously. He could tell she was paranoid and shaken up. As he helped her up, she was about five or so inches shorter than him, which was still fairly tall for a young girl. She looked him up and down, completely dumbfounded by his strange attire. She continued blinking like a maniac as he repeated himself gently.

“Are you alright?” he said. She nodded weakly and took a deep breath as she wiped her thin sleeves across her face. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and when he really took the time to look at her, he was struck by how terribly beautiful this girl was. She was obviously a warlock. She was completely flustered and reminded him of himself as a child. He briefly remembered his awful childhood. He remembered all the things that had happened. Marcus looked at the girl again, breaking himself out of his reverie.

“Hey,” he looked at her and took off his altar to show bright-green, glowing, cat eyes. “It’s alright,” he could see her visibly shaking from fright, “It’s okay. I’m different, too. See? I can help you,” he said softly. She looked at his eyes and sniffed as he said, “Alright? You are shaking. You need to go inside and get warm. Do you want some hot cocoa?” She looked slightly scared again and shook her a little.

“I have to keep looking for this mysterious guy I’m not even sure exists and- and my grandmother deserves so much better than me and why do I keep getting people killed?” she cried out, unable to stop the tears and the panic. He wanted to comfort her because she looked like she was going crazy with guilt and pain, but he didn’t know her and she didn’t seem to want physical comfort right now. He gave her a confused look at her rant.

“Mysterious guy?” he said. Rebekah nodded and wiped her face.

“Some warlock guy that those nasty men from the bar probably made up to mess with me, Marcus Cruz. I don’t know how I am to continue this search for my grandmother when I have no idea what I am doing and I-” she rambled with more tears escaping painfully. He interrupted her with a reassuring smile.

“I know of Cruz. I can help you find him, if you wish?” he offered with a hopeful glance that the poor girl would come inside and not choose to freeze to death out here. He wanted to get both of them inside. She nodded slowly and mumbled an affirmative.

“Good, because I was not about to let you stay out here shivering. You know we are in the midst of breaking the record of lowest temperature in 80 years,” He added, “Well, then. Come on, kitten.” He looked at her and they started walking. While Rebekah knew she should be being more cautious about going into random men’s homes, she honestly didn’t care much right then. It was cold. Alive or dead, she really didn’t have a preference just then. She was ready to give up hope but this man might be the only hope she had right now. She followed him willingly, knowing it might very easily be a trap. She didn’t care. She followed.

Once they made their way to the apartment, he unlocked the door and opened it for her before following her inside.

Rebekah had already lost more than one person due to this mysterious group of men. She couldn’t let it happen again. She regretted the thought that came to her mind. She groaned, swallowed her pride, pulled her cell phone out, and dialed the only people she knew who knew more about this situation than her. The warriors. They were similar to the mortal’s version of police, except for mystic issues.

Once Rebekah explained the situation, the respondent on the phone told her to hang tight and two warriors would meet her at an unpopulated location. Thankfully, it was within walking distance. Rebekah started her way through the groups of people. She grimaced at their many different smells and fashion sense. None of which were enjoyable. She hated some of the mortal fashions floating around.

Rebekah finally arrived to the “meeting spot” and tapped her fingers against her thigh as she waited. She looked down the road to spot two warriors, as promised, walking her way. She groaned with disgust. Most warriors were entitled, arrogant, rich assholes. She hated having to deal with them, but she couldn’t continue to bother Marcus with all of her problems.

The two warriors seemed to walk in pace with each other. One was wearing a usual tight, silver, latex uniform that accentuated her strangely proportioned figure. Rebekah know immediately that she was pregnant. She wasn’t sure why it was one of her powers, but it was a warlock thing. The other wore his tight silver gear like it was as natural as his own skin. They were both tall, tan and had platinum blonde hair. Their toned muscles were revealed by the gear. Rebekah noticed them staring intently at her and rolled her eyes. The girl snickered and turned her hazel eyes to her shrugging partner. The boy looked at Rebekah with a sureness in his voice and matching hazel eyes, their overwhelming resemblance led Rebekah to assume they were siblings.

“Warlock?” As if it was even a question; they all knew it was obvious what Rebekah was. That was another annoying habit that the warriors held, they could see through alters like a screen door. So they clearly saw the truth behind Rebekah’s alter that was currently covering her blue skin from human eyes. The warriors wore them as well, to cover their iridescent, white glow and weapons. They wanted to blend in with the mortals to avoid raising question.Their spells were strong enough to make them invisible when they needed, although it would only last for a certain amount of time. Warriors were powerful. They had more intense spells than warlocks were allowed by the court. This was thanks to a group of irresponsible warlocks from the past who tried to overthrow the court with their abilities.

“Well, fancy meeting you, too, but I am on a certain mission that happens to be much more important than the both of you.” Rebekah rolled her eyes and tried to control her temper.

“Pardon me, but I believe you called us. Am I correct?” He stopped and gazed at her with an annoyed expression. Rebekah begrudgingly looked at the boy.

“First off, don’t believe that my calling you was my first option. I only associate with your kind when there isn’t another option. Secondly, I think the Nécron struck again.” Then, seeing the look in his eyes, she added quickly with a dark glare. “Want to be rude to me now, little warrior?” He promptly interrupted.

“When did this happen? Do you know what type of mystic they took?” He kept throwing all these irritating questions at the Rebekah. She sighed, she did not have time for this. Anything could be happening to Amira right now and this guy wouldn’t shut up. Rebekah felt a strong urge to protect the girl she had only met today. She had no idea why. Why did she have to feel the need to find and save her? Why couldn’t she just let it go? She has most definitely had enough stress in her life. Why add more? Rebekah sighed. She knew she couldn’t just let this girl be taken. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

The female warrior just stood to the side of her brother, holding one hand on her hip and the other on her stomach. Rebekah looked from her stomach to her face. As they made eye contact, the girl quickly removed her hand from her stomach. Rebekah smirked and gave the male warrior a dumbfounded look.

“For the love of God, why are you asking so many questions? Can we just go and save the woman I called you here to save?” If she had known they would be wasting her time like this, she would have tried to track Amira herself.

“What is your name?” he asked, ignoring her once more. This guy was really starting to piss her off. They needed to leave now .

“Rebekah Bronwyn,” she snarked at him. “No, can we please leave?” she practically growled at the warriors. They really didn’t have time to waste. Every second spent babbling about facts was another second Amira was in danger.

“I have heard of you before, warlock.” His voice itself was quite the obnoxious type. He seemed to be the cocky kind of person who knew exactly how attractive they were. His sister beside him still hadn’t spoken a single word. Rebekah couldn’t help but assume this is how it always was between them.

“Tell me how we can save her, warrior ,” Rebekah enunciated, trying to annoy him enough that he’d stop asking what seemed to be pointless questions. “We are running out of time.” The warriors looked to each other and then back to the warlock.

“Very well, but silence yourself and maybe we will get something done here.” He looked at her seriously. Rebekah held back a laugh. She was the one who needed to be silenced? She was holding herself back from decking his highness. “We clearly do not have time to waste,” the male warrior continued as a breeze blew by. Both warriors instinctively went to fix the appearance of their hair. “We are going to need to perform a tracking spell, and you will have to aid us.” Rebekah looked towards both warriors whose alter was starting to fade. Their luminescent white glow started to shine brighter, almost blinding her.

“Let’s do this,” Rebekah stated holding out her own glowing, blue hands.