BATTERIES 4.5
"In the mirror of the kitchen window,
Blushed by leaves, I asked her not to cry."
"Just hide it," the young woman begged, her azure eyes were lined with tears. "Please. I will pay you any amount of money I can manage, please."
The warlock sitting across from her sighed. Even though she had lived almost four times as long as the other woman, she could see by the dark crescents woven underneath her eyes and the tight lined around her lips that this woman had seen a lifetime of suffering. Possibly as much as the warlock herself; she couldn't help but have tendril of pity for the mundane as unlike her, those days were long behind the warlock now.
"I'm not refusing this due to money," the warlock replied, leaning across the dingy wooden table. They were sat in a small, candlelit café just out of the cities reaches, unknown to anyone but those who knew it was there; which made it a perfect spot for a meeting similar to the one they were having now. "I do not view this as wholly correct. There may be others of my kind that would do anything for so much a penny tossed in their direction," the woman's jerked her chin up, as if to say I could go to them instead, but the warlock merely grinned in return, "that is exactly why they cannot be trusted, mundane."
"But-"
"It's not moral; it's not fair on the poor girl." The warlock replied sharply, cutting her off. "One day my spell won't be able to prevent it, the power would explode out of her."
The other woman bit her chapped lip. "Yes, but I would be there to explain it to her when that happens."
The warlock regarded the other woman carefully. Her vulnerability somewhat reminded her of herself when she'd first set foot in London, those many years ago before she'd found out who –or what- she truly was, she was so naïve, so trustful. When the woman had called her up and demanded a meeting, explaining her situation, the warlock had been shocked at how easily she divulged such an urgent secret and how her fragile and shaking voice had brought back memories she fought so hard to forget.
"You're a mundane, you know nothing of this world, and you barely understand it. How on earth would you explain it to her? How would you train her?" The warlock exclaimed. "What if they find you? They are patient; they can wait years if they deem it necessary. You could be gone from her life before you've even had chance to blink."
"But what if they find me and see her? It just shines out of her, even when she is this young," the blonde haired woman chewed on her lip, "they'd take her too." It came out as barely a whisper.
The warlock said nothing.
"Please," the other woman urged. "I just want her to live and if they see her-" she broke off.
The warlock jerked as if the mundane had slapped her, pushing a lock of curling chestnut hair out of her eyes, she whispered, "what if you don't make it? Who will explain it to her?"
The woman clenched her jaw, "I know someone, they owe me." She remembered his icy blue eyes wide with fright as he jerked her rusty car door open and jumped in, his stern yet irresolute voice as he demanded that she drive as if hell were chasing her…
"How did you hear of me?" The warlock inquired, taking a sip of her drink.
The other woman gasped as the words jerked her back to the present and gave her a slanted smile. "The Downworld thinks highly of you, well the little I know of it does."
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint." The warlock snapped.
"Look," the vulnerability had left the mundane's voice now, "this is a better option than them finding me and realising that she isn't a normal human, with the way she is now, the way it protrudes out of her, it'll be clear as day to them."
The warlock's eyes widened at her sudden strength, at her determination. "Very well, I will help you mundane."
"Thank-"
"But please be aware," the warlock cut in, "that I cannot guarantee exactly when her powers will return, you should be safe for another twelve years, but it is vital you tell her at some point."
"Yes, I will. Thank you so much, she's just at home- don't worry it's just around the corner." The human woman spluttered.
"Home" turned out to be a dingy two story flat that was nested above a Chinese takeaway about a five minutes' walk from the café, and like the café, it had the same dead vines climbing up the bricks, the same sullen windows and looked as if it were desperately in need of some TLC.
The interior was just the same, except it had random splashes of colour in a futile attempt to make it look more appealing.
"We're moving shortly," the mundane muttered, as if reading her mind and tossed some keys into a purple vase next to the door. "Now come and meet her, she's just in the other room."
Without muttering a word, the warlock followed into a cramped bedroom. The room was practically empty aside from a mattress shoved in one corner and just below the window, a small cot.
The warlock bent over it and gasped, before taking a breath and saying, "Well we may as well close the blinds, we don't want any neighbours noticing."
The blinds poorly guarded passers by from the blue sparks erupting out of the tattered window.
Author's Note.
Sorry for the short update! This may seem to have nothing to do with the story at the moment, but it will become very important later on in the story. I'm also sorry that it took so long to update, I'm in the middle of my A Levels at the moment and they're rather difficult.
Please review and tell me what you think, I'm always looking for ways to improve!