Night settled over the outskirts near Merlin’s crown, the stars casting a faint glow over the landscape. Ethan stretched with a yawn, brushing the dirt from his pants as he stood. “I’m beat. Let’s head back,” he said lazily. The group began their climb back up the cliff.
As they ascended, Carter’s foot slipped on loose gravel, his hand shooting out for balance. He stumbled, nearly plunging into the water below.
“Whoa!” Charles exclaimed, grabbing Carter’s arm just in time. Carter gripped his hand tightly, his pride bruised more than his balance.
“I’ve got it,” Carter said curtly, pulling himself upright, though his usual defiance lingered in his tone.
Unbeknownst to them, his pouch slipped from his waist and tumbled silently down the cliffside.
As they reached the top, none of them noticed what had been left behind. They continued their walk, their silhouettes vanishing into the shadows of the trees.
Moments later, down by the water’s edge, a figure emerged. A girl with ragged, tattered clothing and wild, unkempt hair floated eerily above the surface of the water. Her piercing purple eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, unblinking as they scanned the area.
Without wings or sound, she drifted toward the cliff, her gaze fixed. Landing softly on the ground, she knelt and picked up the fallen pouch. She examined it briefly, her expression unreadable, before rising once more and disappearing into the night with a silent, otherworldly grace.
The next day, at Northride School of Fine Arts, Ethan, Carter, and Charles sat side by side on the bleachers, their expressions ranging from bored to mildly annoyed as the principal droned on about new magic restrictions and anti-bullying policies.
“The bullying here is so bad, if they allowed magic to be used, this place would turn into a war zone,” Carter muttered under his breath.
Ethan and Charles nodded in agreement, their gazes fixed on the stage but their minds clearly elsewhere.
Carter sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just realized... I left my pouch at the cliff last night. Damn it, my phone was in there,” he groaned, slumping forward.
“You guys think you could cover for me in class? I need to get my phone back so I can make sure my sister gets off work okay.” Carter stood up, carefully stepping past the rows of students seated on the bleachers before slipping out of the gym unnoticed.
Outside, he patted his pockets, realizing how empty they were. “Great, I don’t even have enough for a carriage teleport. Guess I’m walking,” he muttered with a sigh.
The walk to the outskirts of Auroria Dominion was long and tiring. As Carter reached the familiar cliff overlooking the rushing waters and Merlin’s crown, he scanned the area, narrowing his eyes. His pouch was nowhere in sight.
Sliding down the rocky slope, Carter landed at the base of the cliff in front of the infamous black crown. He looked around frantically, searching every nook and crevice. Still no pouch. His gaze shifted to the edge where the rushing water carved its way through the rocks.
“Damn it,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Please don’t tell me it fell into the water.” He walked closer to the edge, peering down at the torrent.
Frustrated, Carter let out a sharp exhale. “She’s gonna kill me if I don’t find that thing.” He began climbing back up the cliff, gripping the rocky handles as best he could. But halfway up, his foot slipped on a loose rock.
“AHHH!” he screamed, plummeting toward the jagged rocks below. Just as the thought of his untimely death flashed through his mind, a soft, cushioned surface caught him midair.
“What the—?” Carter blinked, confused. He felt around, his hands pressing into what seemed to be... a cloud?
Carefully, he climbed off the strange mist-like platform, and the cloud dispersed into thin air as if it had never been there. “What was that?” he muttered, brushing himself off.
From behind the rocks, a figure stepped into view. It was a girl with dirty, short black hair, wearing a ripped plaid skirt and a tattered shirt. Despite her unkempt appearance, her face held an unexpected beauty. She scratched her ankle lazily with her foot, her movements casual as she approached him.
In her hand was his pouch.
Carter’s pride immediately flared. “W-who are you? I didn’t need help, I had it!” he snapped, snatching the pouch from her hand.
The girl tilted her head slightly, unfazed by his tone. Her voice was soft and sweet, catching him off guard. “I’m Althara,” she said simply.
Carter flinched as the girl stepped closer, her presence both strange and intriguing. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice soft but curious. She reached out, a faint mist of cloud-like energy swirling around her hand. Gently, she blew the mist onto his bloodied hands.
He watched in awe as the stinging pain faded and the scratches vanished. Carter instinctively pulled his hands back, inspecting them in disbelief. “I’m Carter… uh, thank you,” he said, giving her a small, awkward bow.
The girl tilted her head slightly, her purple eyes glinting with a mysterious light. “Why are you here?” he asked quickly, trying to regain some composure. “I mean, where do you go to school? Why are you down here?”
“I don’t go to school,” she replied plainly. “I sleep here.”
Carter blinked, caught off guard by her answer, but before he could say anything, she floated off the ground, her feet leaving the rocky surface as if gravity had no claim on her.
“You’re a flyer and a healer? Whoa,” Carter said, genuinely impressed. He glanced at his watch and his heart sank. “Ah, shoot! My next class is about to start!” He hurried toward the cliffside and began climbing again.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Don’t drown!” he called back, half-joking as he scrambled up the rocks.
Althara stood silently, watching him go. Her gaze shifted downward, and she noticed something glinting by the water. Carter’s phone. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands.
“Carter,” she murmured, letting the name roll off her tongue. Then, without hesitation, she floated upward and disappeared into the sky.
Moments later, Carter burst into his second-period class, sliding into the seat next to Charles and Ethan at the back.
“Guys,” he whispered, catching his breath, “the weirdest thing just happened! I went to get my pouch, and I met this girl down by the cliff. She had ripped clothes, but… she had such a beautiful face, like, really pretty.” He trailed off, scribbling absentmindedly on his paper.
Charles raised an eyebrow, then suddenly pointed toward the front of the classroom. “Wait, is that the girl?!”
Carter’s head snapped up, and his jaw nearly hit the desk. Standing at the front of the room was Althara, her soft purple eyes locked onto him with a steady, almost unnerving glare.
Some students whispered among themselves, admiring her striking features and mysterious aura, while others snickered, poking fun at her tattered appearance.
The teacher, clearly unsettled by the disruption, cleared his throat. “Y-young lady, you don’t look like you attend this school,” he said, trying to maintain authority.
Althara slowly turned her gaze to the teacher, her piercing purple eyes locking onto him. The teacher faltered, taking a small step back as if her stare had drained the confidence from his words.
Without a response, Althara shifted her attention back to Carter, her expression calm and unreadable. “You,” she said, her voice clear and even, cutting through the murmurs in the room.
All eyes turned to Carter, whose confusion was written all over his face. “Me?” he asked, pointing at himself in surprise.
Althara walked toward him, her steps slow and deliberate. The room fell silent as she moved past the desks, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade. Reaching Carter, she extended her hand and held out his phone.
“You dropped this,” she said simply, her voice as steady as her gaze, never breaking eye contact.
Carter hesitated for a moment, then took the phone from her. “Uh… thanks,” he muttered, still trying to process what was happening.
Althara didn’t move, continuing to look at him with an intensity that sent another wave of murmurs through the room.
A few moments later, Carter had Althara pressed gently against the brick wall at the back of the school. His hands gripped her shoulders, though not too tightly. “Are you following me or something?!” he asked, his voice laced with a mix of nervousness and frustration.
Ethan sat on the ground nearby, leaning back on his hands, while Charles stood beside Carter with crossed arms, watching the scene unfold.
Althara’s gaze dropped lazily to the ground, her expression unreadable. “I just wanted to see,” she began softly, her tone calm and unbothered.
Carter loosened his grip slightly, his brows furrowing. “See what?” he asked.
“How your school looked,” she replied, her voice steady but distant. “You mentioned school before you left. I only ever went to kindergarten.”
Her eyes flicked toward the surrounding area briefly before drifting back down. “I like the pink and green combination,” she added, her gaze lingering on Carter’s uniform.
Carter glanced down at himself, caught off guard by the comment.
“I don’t feel temperature anymore,” she continued, avoiding his gaze, “but the pink… it looks cozy.”
Ethan stood up, brushing dirt off his pants, and walked over. He slipped off his sweater, which had his name embroidered on the chest in bold letters: Ethan Knight. “Here,” he said, holding it out to her. “I’m from Horace Groves, so I don’t rep this school anyway.” He shrugged nonchalantly.
Althara hesitated for a moment before taking the sweater from Ethan. She slipped it on, the fabric hanging slightly loose on her smaller frame. Hugging it tightly around herself, she crossed her arms over her chest and murmured, “Thank you.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.
Charles tilted his head, studying her. “I’m Charles Pierce. What’s your name?” he asked, his tone steady but curious.
“Althara,” she replied simply, adjusting the sweater.
Charles raised an eyebrow. “Althara…? What’s your last name?”
Althara looked up at him, her expression calm but evasive. “Why were you guys at my home yesterday?” she asked suddenly, steering the conversation in a new direction.
“Your home?” Charles repeated, confused. “You mean the cliff where Merlin’s Crown is?”
Althara nodded. “I sleep there.”
Ethan shrugged nonchalantly, slipping his hands into his pockets. “We were just hanging out. Nothing serious.” He paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. “You guys wanna go there again? You mind, Althara?”
Althara shook her head. “Sure, we can go,” she said with a small nod, her tone carrying a hint of curiosity.
Moments later, the four of them sat on the cliff, sharing a tray of nachos. The sun dipped low in the sky, painting everything in shades of orange and gold.
“So, why do you sleep here?” Ethan asked, crunching down on a chip.
Althara hesitated, swallowing her food. “Umm, because—”
Before she could finish, the sound of approaching footsteps cut her off. Three figures emerged from behind the cliff, their silhouettes sharp against the fading light.
“Is this the guy? Ethan Knight, the one who beat up my guys?” the leader said, stepping forward. He was a muscular man with long hair and a cocky smirk. “Hanging out by Merlin Shadowbane’s ashes? That’s pretty badass,” he chuckled darkly.
Ethan stood, wiping his hands on his pants. “So you’re the leader? Your guys challenged me first. Don’t come here acting like I picked a fight.”
The leader—Roman—sized Ethan up before glancing at the group. “And who the hell are you?”
Charles stood up, his expression cold. “Charles Pierce. You’re trespassing in our friend’s sleeping area. So, why don’t you turn around and fuck off?”
Roman’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he ignored Charles, focusing on the group again.
Carter placed himself in front of Althara protectively. “Stay back,” he said, lowering his voice. He glared at Roman and his crew. “These guys are the Crossbow Killers. They’re mercenaries. They use sin to turn a profit and are tied to Wrath Kingdom.”
One of Roman’s men lunged at Carter with a punch, a wild grin on his face. “So you’ve heard of us?” the goon sneered, his fist flying forward.
But the attack didn’t connect. Althara moved like a shadow, gripping the goon by his hair and locking his wrist in an iron grip. The man froze, his confidence melting into shock as he realized he was completely overpowered.
Everyone froze in shock as Althara held the goon's wrist in an iron grip. His face twisted in pain, and he growled through gritted teeth, "T-this bitch! How is she so strong?!"
Althara's gaze remained steady, her voice calm but commanding. "My name," she began, pausing for effect. Carter, Charles, and Ethan, who had been dying to know her full name since they first met her, unconsciously leaned in, their anticipation palpable.
"Althara Shadowbane," she declared, her tone ringing with quiet authority.
The words hung in the air, and everyone's eyes widened in disbelief. The name carried a weight that seemed to silence the world around them.