While the room was brightly lit with the warm, morning sun of August, it could not have felt any colder. Tapestries of elaborately woven blood red adorned the walls, basking in the light entering in from the windows across from them. However, the pale stone walls that stood behind them were colder than they had ever been before. This room was a study, having been used for centuries. It was ornate and grand. Delicately carved oak furniture embellished intricate maroon and gold embroidered cloth. There were ancient trinkets and ornaments that lined the shelves and table tops. The serene air of the polished room was shattered with distant murmurs and footsteps, muffled by the walls. Then, the large wooden door at the far end of the room swung open, though the hinges protested the entire way. Following the echoes of the heels came voices. A mixture of high and low, nasally and deeps, melodic and raspy voices filled the air and the group stepped out of the dark corridor and into the sunlit room.
"Has there been any success in locating them?" The high, strident voice belonged to a woman who was the very embodiment of power. She walked tall, shoulders back and chin up. Her silver hair was pulled back as tight as her mouth set in a line. Her robes were pressed and crisp and as black as a funeral parade. It was clear she was the peak of the status pyramid.
"Not yet. It would seem… she has employed magic that we have not been able to, well, identify." His voice was deep and low and rough. The reply came from a tall man, young but clearly aged by stress, with small flecks of grey in his midnight hair.
"Damn it." The woman slammed a file down on her desk. Placing one hand on the polished desk, she opened the file with her other. On the first page was a picture of a family of five. There was a large, red X over the face of the father. Three circles were placed around three other faces. The mother, and her two eldest children, a girl, and a little boy.
"What about the third one, her youngest? Would she work?" Another voice spoke, creaky and old.
"No, she isn't magical." The woman then let out a harsh laugh. "My perfect little sister produced a squib. The irony."
Just then, there was a quiet pecking at the window. The woman looked up and her crowd parted, giving her a clear line of sight. It was a small, brown and grey speckled owl, with a piece of parchment tied to it's leg.
"Is that…? Marcus, fetch it for me." The woman gestured to the worn, young man, who immediately set out to accomplish this task. He opened the window, and the small owl hopped into the ledge. He swiftly untied the parchment, and within 5 large steps, he placed it into her hands.
She broke the wax seal, opened it and scanned the contents. She reread the words, her eyes quickly moving from side to side. Suddenly, she let out a harsh cry, which quickly turned into a gleeful laugh. Looking up to see the confusion on her subordinate's faces, she let her delight show full force.
"It would seem," she spoke slowly, setting the parchment down and letting her grin grow wider. "My little squib of a niece had produced a magical child. And this child, it would seem, is not protected by my sister's little enchantment. She will work. Find her, get her. I need her. Understood?" She narrowed her eyes as she surveyed the crowd before her. They all shook their head in agreement. "Now go, quickly, survey her, I want to know every detail about her. Unfortunately, she is still too young. We will have to wait a couple more years, but no matter, no matter. Yes, she will do nicely." She began to trail off, then she realized her group has not dispersed, and waved her hands, signaling their dismissal. They were off like a pack of rats.
Once their chatter and footsteps faded into silence, the woman moved slowly to stand by the window, overlooking the well-kept and green gardens. There was a sense of glee and excitement that was slowly washing over her.
"I've won Callista. I've won."
