Chapter Text
Voices. Cries of anger and fear. Sharp, brief claps of explosive thunder. A flash of metal and clang of a blade. The wind roared and the air chilled. There was a moment of dread followed by a burst of searing white light and then-
Moira sat up with a gasp, heart hammering in her chest. Her eyes darted around the dimly lit room of her aunt’s tiny two story building. Every hair stood on end, the back of her neck bristling like a porcupine as she slowly shifted in her bed, letting her legs dangle over the edge as she continued to peer into the darkness of her room as if she was expecting something to suddenly jump out at her. She stood up after a few deep breaths, her legs still shaking from the dream as she trudged across the room, down the hall and into the bathroom she shared with her aunt. She opened up the taps to run the cold water and could hear her aunt stir in the other room. The young woman cupped some water in her hands before splashing it over her face a few times. She twisted the taps shut, moving them slowly so the old pipes wouldn’t clang and wake her aunt. Her hands rested on the edge of the porcelain as her eyes flicked up to her reflection in the mirror. Tired mossy disks looked back at her. She stood there for a few seconds, half expecting her reflection to blink and launch her into a new nightmare.
She grabbed a towel from the rack and not so gently patted her face dry, a heavy sigh making her shoulders heave. Tossing the towel back onto the rack she slowly wandered back to her room to get dressed for the day. Might as well, since it wasn’t going to be long before the walking feather duster was up and about in his office. She quickly tossed on a loose, breezy outfit and slipped on her work shoes. She ran her fingers through her hair to tidy the messy locks, one hand darting out to open her bedroom curtains and let in the dim, grey morning light. Outside the city of Port Edward was covered in a layer of fog, the sun just starting to peak over the horizon. Sometimes she missed the mild fall weather that one would get farther inland. The sight of the chilly early morning cityscape was enough to make her shiver. With a flick of her wrist she closed her curtain again and turned to leave.
The floorboards creaked as she made her way down the stairs and into the lobby of the building. At one point the building had been a shop with a living space. When Moira’s great great aunt Catherine bought the building, she changed the main floor into a set of offices, the larger of which was used for Catherine’s board meetings and events she hosted. It was an old building, despite the various renovations that had been done over the ages. Moira wondered if her aunt kept the rustic, creaking elements simply for the aesthetics of it all.
Light glinted off the crystals of the chandelier in the main office as the woman made her way into the kitchen to make some coffee. She poured the water into the machine and opened the tin of coffee ground, a sigh escaping her for the second time that morning. The scoop clanked around in the empty tin.
“Wonderful.” Moira mumbled as she set down the tin.
She grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil, jotting down a brief note saying she was going to the store. She tossed on her beige pea coat and a scarf as she left, peering into the secondary office at the base of the stairs only to find it empty. Well, at least this gave her some time before he finally arrived for work. As she opened the front door a cold gust of wind threatened to wrench the door from her grip. She shoved the door shut and locked it, muttering a few choice words under her breath towards whatever sky-based entity decided that today was a day for strong, frigid winds. She looked down the street at the corner store. Ten minutes. That was all the time she would need to spend in the cold.
The heels of her sneaker almost clacked as she moved briskly down the sidewalk towards the tiny shop, the wind gusting up behind her and tossing her hair into her face. By the time she arrived at the corner store it looked as if she had been standing in a wind tunnel.
The shopkeeper looked up and chuckled. The older gentleman leaned forwards, his elbows resting on the counter, “You look like some bats decided to roost in your hair.”
“This was not what I was expecting when Auntie Catherine said that Port Edward was famous for its fresh breezes.” Moira grumbled as she smoothed out her hair and walked over to the stack of coffee tins near the front counter.
“Hey, it wakes you up though.” The man winked.
“Oh yeah. Nothing says good morning like Jack Frost nipping at your nose.”
“Don’t worry, missy. Your big city skin will toughen up soon enough.” He teased as he rang up her purchase, “Two fifty.”
Moira fished the coins from her pocket and handed them over before scooping up the tin again. She grimaced as she looked outside at the trees swaying in the wind. The shopkeeper bid her good luck as she stepped out of the shop and started back home. She was just about to cross the street when she noticed a woman across the street staring fixedly at a something a few yards to Moira’s left. Moira glanced to her left and noticed an odd figure trudging up the sidewalk, their hands stuffed into their pockets and a grim look on their face. Moira turned slightly, just enough to look at their eyes. Her pupils dilated as sensations and images flashed through her mind.
Cold metal, right hand. Desperation and money. An old cash register and the surprised gentleman who owned the corner store.
Moira glanced away quickly and slowly sucked in a breath. The grim man walked past her and into the store, the bell above the door jingling to alert the shop keeper. Moira turned and saw the man leaning over the counter, his left hand starting to pull free from his pocket. Without a second thought she jumped forward, pulling the door open and stepping into the shop again. The man in front of the counter paused, a small pistol pointing at the frightened shop keeper’s torso.
“What the hell do you want?” the grim man scowled. He flicked the barrel of his gun at her dismissively before pointing it back at the shop keeper, “Get lost.”
“Put the gun down.” Moira stated calmly.
The man glared at her, turning so his pistol was pointing at her now, “I said get lost. Don’t make me shoot you, girl.”
Moira fixed her gaze on the man’s eyes, her irises giving off a faint glow as she spoke, “No. You won’t. Don’t you remember? You came in here by accident. You were supposed to be out finding legitimate work.”
The man’s features froze before twitching into dazed and confused expression. He slowly nodded, “Right… Right. Work. I came here for…”
“To give me your gun. You said you didn’t need it anymore.” Moira stated quickly.
The man nodded, and made a sound as if he had just remembered something obvious, “Yes, right! Thanks by the way!”
Moira took the gun, “Forget about it.”
The man paused, “About what sorry?”
Moira turned her gaze away as she hid the gun in her pocket and walked past the man. The stranger stood there for a few seconds looking dazed before the shopkeeper finally spoke up, asking if he was okay. The stranger jolted as if he’d been woken from a dream, “Huh? What? Uh… Sorry… I need to get go’n.”
Moira and the shopkeeper watched as the man left and the woman who had previously been standing across the street entered the store. Moira glanced at the woman, who gave everyone a curious once over before going to one of the back aisles.
The shopkeeper whispered a thank you to Moira. She moved so she was leaning over the counter slightly as she pulled the pistol out of her pocket, a hand gripping the barrel. She squeezed down on it, the metal melting just enough at she could press it shut. “Hey, you’re going fishing this week right?” She asked casually, moving the handle toward the shop keeper.
He glanced at the gun before quickly grabbing it and slipping it under the counter, “Yes. I figured the boys and I could get one more round of fishing in before it got too cold.”
“Sounds like a good idea. Try to keep warm though, okay? I don’t think the missus would be happy if you caught a cold.” She smiled.
“Ah, don’t you worry about me. It’d take more than a chilly breeze to get me sick.” The man laughed. He lowered his voice as he pat her arm, “Really, Moira. Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it, Douglas. Take care.” She smiled in return before leaving again.
Moira had just managed to cross the street when the woman from the store rushed after her, calling for her attention. Moira glanced back, turning to face the woman as she jogged over. The woman held up a small silvery coin, “I think you dropped this when you left.”
“Oh? Thank you.” Moira said, slightly confused as she accepted the quarter sized coin. No sooner did the coin hit her palm, a searing jolt of pain shot up her arm.
“You okay?” the woman asked, taking a step closer.
Moira attempted to grin nonchalantly, her hand slipping into her pocket so she could release the coin, “Yes. It’s just very cold out.”
“You sure? You look a bit pale.” The woman stated, her eyes narrowing slightly, “Maybe you need some iron in your diet?”
Moira’s eyes widened as she met the woman’s gaze. She narrowed her own eyes, her irises glowing slightly, “Who are you?”
The woman chuckled dryly, “You don’t need to use magic on me. It won’t work that easily.” She pulled at a delicate chain around her neck and revealed a small medallion with a cross emblem on it.
The glow drained from Moira’s eyes as her blood ran cold. A hunter? Here? Why? She took a step back, her wounded hand shooting up to reveal tiny flames dancing around her fingers. The woman drew a gun and aimed it at Moira.
“Care to see which is faster?” The woman arched a brow.