Just something original I'm working on. I know I have a lot of stories to update, but I wanted to try something original. The title is French and means "the unlucky" or "the unfortunate".

I hope everything will make sense eventually. This is just the prologue, but details are important...

Okay, well, enough ranting from me; please enjoy!

Les Malchanceux

Prologue

"Sister, is he breathing?"

Cecil's question hung in the air as his sister cautiously stepped closer to the edge of the cliff. The cold morning was evident in the air as she breathed out puffy white clouds with each exhale. The sky was dreary and the sun was only just colouring the sky deep yellows, oranges and pinks that contrasted sharply with the milky overlay that had held stars and galaxies only an hour prior.

Getting up at this hour was a chore Cecil was not eager to perform—unlike Circe, who must have stayed up the entire night, if the dark circles under her eyes were anything to go by.

When she had not answered, Cecil tried again. "Is he breathing, Circe?" Though Cecil knew it was rude to address her in this casual way, it was the only way to get her attention. Neither this fact, nor his impatient tone, seemed to bother her. Circe merely held up a single finger to silence her brother as she continued to carefully survey the visibly trembling figure far below her.

A silent nod brought Cecil his answer and he waited for his older sister to take action. Meanwhile he tried to come up with a plan. "We must try and retrieve him...her," he corrected himself as Circe shook her head lightly at his earlier assumption. "I don't think we can get down there. The cliff is too steep and will not hold. Maybe if we got a rope—"

He was interrupted by his sister as she shook her head once more.

"Then what?" Cecil asked incredulously.

As if to answer her brother, Circe held up her hands and made several swift movements. Cecil peered over the edge of the cliff to see what she was doing, and saw that the figure down below was slowly being engulfed in a soft golden glow. Circe silently waved her hand in an upwards motion and slowly, the figure was lifted up from the rocks below, as if held up by invisible hands, or a string extending to the heavens. Circe kept a close eye on the body and gently caught her when she had arrived far off the ground and onto the rocky plateau where the two siblings stood. The magical glow began to diminish and disappeared altogether when Circe closed her first, stopping the spell.

Circe laid the body gently down, and now it was clear she was breathing: her chest moved up and down under her thick cloak with each ragged breath she took. Cecil knit his eyebrows together and kneeled down on the ground, at least three feet away from Circe and the girl.

Circe looked for various things – the girl's pulse and her temperature – and eventually decided a warm cottage would be much better for the frail girl than the bitter winter air on the edge of a cliff.

Circe repeated the hand motions from before, and once again the girl was wrapped in a warm glow of magic power. She rose up, floating in mid-air, suspended by Circe's magic spell. Circe stood and started walking towards the woods, with the girl in tow and Cecil following from a safe distance.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review! I'd appreciate any help or criticism.