Beneath the surface of every pond, is a myriad of secrets. Of course, anyone looking at a pond will only see its calm, cool, and inviting surface, or in some cases, the threat that accompanies a watering hole of which all sorts of predators call their own. It is because of this outward appearance that we never examine it closer than need be, willing to accept everything at face value. And for that reason, we never really see the beauty hidden beneath the waves… or the deeper, darker, danger.
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“Look, I’m not sure what they teach you in the army, but the least you could do is buy a girl dinner before you start poking her from behind,” Chelsi said, rolling the innuendo over her undeniably full, feminine lips, as she spun on her heel after being turned down by the purple-haired woman and her imaginary friend.
In the background, the young witch also heard the beginnings of Cael Moran’s preemptive eulogy for all the gathered soldiers. The American before Chelsi went through a stream of chauvinistic insults, most of it she had heard before.
But the man won points for his retro jargon. At least that was kind of original. By the time the bizarre grunt was done his spiel, the young witch found that she liked him even more. However, further thoughts along those lines were interrupted, as Chelsi too felt the mental intrusion.
Miss Chelsi I presume. An old friend of yours requests your presence. Please be discreet. Make your way to the tent left of the gathering, if you will.
“…eh?”
As the telepathic message ended, Chelsi found that the soldier was gone. Apparently, he too received the mental invitation. Or at least, she hoped he did. There were still questions to be asked.
“There’s so much going on, I hope I’m going to find him here. And if nothing else, Maybe Cael Moran can take me to him…”
The observant witch, noted to, that the odd woman whom she had also spoken to briefly had left before the conclusion of Cael’s speech. An interesting party, if that’s what the psychic messenger had in mind. Perhaps, the pursuit of him might be interesting in and of its own. But from the feel of the air, and from Cael’s ominous tone as he gave his speech, Chelsi was certain that if nothing else, she was in the right place.
As inconspicuously as possible, the slender woman exited the tent, all eyes still on the leader on top of the wooden platform. Making her way to the designated tent, Chelsi stopped for a moment, and fished around in her backpack. The exterior of the camp was deserted now, and after checking for any movement, she retrieved the items she was looking for; a pack of matches, and a sealed scroll. With one last nervous glance, Chelsi struck the match and set it to the paper. It caught the flame instantly, and the cryptic witch let the burning parchment fall to the dust at her feet. With that, she finished the short trek to the meeting place, and joined the three people waiting there. The purple haired woman, the infantry man, and a pale-skinned man, who’s appearance ignited the tingling of memories in the back of her mind. Some accomplishment from her past, now buried in failure.
As she fruitlessly battled the haze caused by years of alcoholism and other distant memories, the paper she left in the dirt outside neared the end of its destruction. Only the last few lines were still visible as the flame consumed it.
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…As an agent I feel I can trust, and who’s goals are not so dissimilar from my own, I hope that the terms I offer you and the task I put before you are to your satisfaction. Of course, you will receive payment as payment is due.
I humbly await your arrival.
-Sincerely…
A