Harley

Harley

 

A loud crash resonated through the too-quiet house. Harley froze in place. She had bumped the table and the glass of water her father had been drinking from now lay broken upon the unfair wooden floor. Why couldn't it have landed on the carpet an inch away? But she didn't dwell on what could have (should have, she thought to herself) happened. Harley sprinted for the stairwell and only made it up two steps, when her father snatched her long, braided brown hair and stopped her mid-climb. She wanted to shriek out loud for the pain, but she would sooner leap out the second floor window than show weakness over something so small as pulled hair.

"I knew it was you who knocked that over. Guilty runner, you are," her father spoke in an angrily impatient voice Harley was all too familiar with. He rounded the banister, keeping tight grip on her hair. "Another broken glass? And wasted water? Are you really so keen on ending this family? I can't just produce water whenever I want. Someone has to go get it from the well. If you waste it like this and you don't do it, then who has to?"

Harley knew full well that her father would never lift a finger over something like pulling water, especially not with her around. But she knew what he wanted to hear, "You would have to," she stated robotically.

"That's right, I'd have to," he replied, superiority glazing his voice. "Now," he tugged her braid away from the steps, "take the water bucket and fill up the entire barrel." He led her to the door, opened it, and tossed her out along with the wooden bucket. "And you can forget about dinner if you don't have it finished by nightfall."

The door slammed shut behind her as she picked up the bucket off the ground and brushed the dirt off. Harley already knew that it was too late in the afternoon to fill the water barrel before darkness set in, so she made it a priority to find something to eat before the night came.

She walked with the bucket towards the closest well. In the great city of Nan'Soss, there were wells located everywhere. It was one of the greatest factors in its founding and later success; when it was built well-over a thousand years ago, there was an enormous underground lake discovered beneath the foundations of the then-small town. This gave Nan'Soss an advantage over other villages in the area, as the rivers would be reduced to mud banks every few summers, and freeze every winter. As a result, every town in the area would come to Nan'Soss for water, giving virtually all forms of business more customers than one could possibly imagine. No farmer had unneeded surplus, no shop owner left without sold goods. Everyone in the city prospered until it had expanded so much that it encompassed more than three-hundred square miles in the thousand years since its founding. It had survived through the fall of the Night Corps (though not without a sect war that tore the city in half), the loss of the Gold and Silver Ruling Scepters, and the Blue Spirit's evil crew of bloodthirsty thieves. Still, the city stood strong.

This was one of the most frustrating thoughts that plagued Harley: Of all the thousands, millions of people, the hundreds, thousands of  years the city has existed, why am I stuck here and now with this family? She often entertained the thought that she was adopted, and would be rescued by her true family, but in her twelve years of life, there had been no one to come save her. Furthermore, she resembled her six-year-old sister too closely to be unrelated to her. She swung the bucket over her left shoulder and turned down the alley that would take her to the closest well. She often entertained herself by trying alternate routes in an attempt to find the absolute shortest, quickest way to get places. As a result, she knew this particular alleyway would be less busy than others at this time of day, and she did not felt like coming across people.

She reached the well in what felt like record time, which she made note of in the back of her head. She tied the rope to the bucket and let it drop to the bottom. As she turned the handle to pull the water-filled bucket back up, she looked around the square for a potential meal. She picked out a man holding a basket with bread rolls talking to a lady with her own basket full of eggs, a boy younger than her holding a candy-apple in his hand, and a man with a little girl of six or seven in one arm and two loaves of bread in the other. She assessed her situation and decided to take her pick when she came back for another bucket.

When she returned to the well a second time, the young boy was gone, the man and lady conversing were still in the same spot, and the man with the child was sitting on a nearby bench, feeding his daughter a few bites of a bread roll; unwatched, the loaves sat next to him. Harley briefly considered taking from this man (it would be the easiest after all), but she almost immediately decided against it. She was not so low as to steal from a man with such a young daughter. She instead took a route past the man talking to the woman. She tossed a rock up onto a roof high above them and snatched a roll out of his basket when they were distracted by the rock striking ground.

She finished the roll quickly – too quickly, if truth be told – and continued her chore of filling the barrel with water. She finished an hour after night fell.

 

 

 

It was early morning, about an hour before dawn when Harley was awakened by a loud crash and excessive cursing. She immediately knew what it meant. She tore off her night clothes, and threw on work clothes before the thundering up the steps even started. Her father threw open her door with nothing but anger upon his face. He started to yell about how the lid was left off the water barrel, and Harley stood silently, only glaring at the ground as if it was to blame. He yelled about noticing it off, and how angry he was that she didn't replace the lid before she went to bed. His harsh words of her "insubordination" and contribution of "only trouble and useless time-wasting to the household" seemed to have no effect on her, so her father demanded she look up at him.

Harley fought back tears and instead focused her glare from the floor up to his face. Fathers are supposed to be kind and understanding. They don't blame their daughters for being forgetful over something that doesn't matter. Especially when he could have taken five seconds to do it himself. They're supposed to be heroes. Harley continued to glare through the insults, which only strengthened the harshness of her father's words.

He finally seemed to reach a point of finality, stating that she was lucky he not kick her out of the house for being so useless.

At this, Harley finally snapped, "If that's what you want, then so be it. I'll leave and you don't have to worry about me any more. Does that sound good to you?"

Her father blinked in surprised anger, speechless. He quickly regained control of his mentality, "One more word like that out of your mouth, and you'll have it coming to you," he pointed his finger at her in reinforcement of his threat.

"I. Want. To. Leave."

 

 

 

The last thing Harley remembered was her father hitting her across the head with enough force to knock her out onto her bed. When she awoke, Harley could still feel the throbbing above her right ear. She slowly sat up and saw a note scribbled on a piece of parchment on her floor. It read that her father was going to be gone buying a replacement barrel and that she was to think up some way pay him back for the one he broke.

If there's any time to leave, then I suppose it's now, she thought to herself, not wanting to relive the morning. Harley tied her hair into a high ponytail, gathered up a couple changes of clothes, and grabbed a few loaves of bread from the kitchen. The last thing she did was go down to the basement and retrieve the knife she had snatched from a hunter a couple years back. She belted it across her waist, allowing it to hang there, sheathed. She paused for a moment before ascending the stone steps. She went into one of the unused storage rooms and carved into the stone wall, "Harley is free today" along with the date. She looked at it and nodded to herself, I'll come back and claim the house when I grow up. Today I remove him from my life. Some day I'll remove him from the house too. Her thoughts drifted towards her little sister Luna. Harley's sister was not doted upon by their father by any means, but it seemed as if he favored Harley over her. Harley doubted it was the case. He rarely showed affection towards either of them, if at all. She was simply older and able to do more, while Luna was far more soft-spoken and acted on her father's orders without challenge. While it wasn't necessarily dangerous for Luna to be left alone, Harley was still worried about her. How would she manage with her big sissy gone? I'll come check on her as soon as I find a place. If things for her are even half as bad as they've been for me, I'll bring her with me and we can live together. Nodding to herself, she picked up her bag, made her way up the stairs, and was out the front door. She turned back to look at the window of Luna's room. Steeling herself on her decision, she faced away again and walked from her now old home.

 

 

 

Harley spent her first day on the streets, scrounging for a place to stay. She rationed the bread she took from home so that it would be able last her for at least three days. She wandered the streets of Nan'Soss, trying to put as much distance between herself and her father's house as she could in a day. She reached a different district by late midday. It was radically different from the area she was from. There were far more rich folk and buildings, but there were also more poor people on the streets. She continued onward, deeper into this both richer and poorer district.

As she made her way along, she noticed several interesting things. She saw a man try and fail to sell a young boy a trinket that was supposed to be a magic key, able to open any lock. There was an old beggar man missing a leg collecting spare change, who would use an misleading cane to take purses off passerby's belts by cutting the ties and hitting them away before they hit the ground (she never saw where they went). She even saw use of actual magic, in a street performer who would use magic to make hundreds of pages fly out of books which would snatch coins out of unsuspecting persons' pockets or purse during the commotion. Altogether, Harley thought it was a very interesting place to be. She determined that if these thefts went unnoticed on the rich amongst so many people, then perhaps she could make a living of sorts in the same manner.

She almost didn't notice the girl walking behind her. She looked to be a few years older than her, and had black hair done up in pigtails. She first noticed her when walking past the street performer using magic. She had noticed her catching dropped coins that the magic flying papers would occasionally lose. Harley purposefully went to stand by a vendor and pretended to be interested in something for sale. To confirm her suspicion, the girl in pigtails stood directly behind her. Harley waited until she felt a slight movement from the small buttoned purse on her belt. She lowered her head to the opposite side and whispered so the girl could hear, "Now why would you steal out of a purse with no money?"

The girl let out a high-pitched "eep" and quickly withdrew her hand. People around her turned to look, some glaring with annoyance.

Harley grabbed the older girl's hand before she could run away and said in a low voice, "I've seen all of you around here. There's got to be a big syndicate of thieves here in this section of town. Where are you all located?"

The girl looked worried, shocked, and impressed at the same time. She spoke quietly back in a high voice, practically an octave above the twelve-year-old Harley's, "What do you mean other thieves? You can't believe that there's a huge, underground organization in a rich, snobby place like this." Before Harley say or do anything, the girl reached into her pocket with her free hand, grabbed a strange vial of black liquid, and threw it to the ground. An enormous cloud of black smoke exploded out of the vial when it broke against the hard surface. It was followed by loud voices shouting from nowhere, things like "Get her!" and "I'll go this way, you go that way!"  Harley coughed and let go of the girl's hand automatically. She slipped away into the smoke cloud and vanished from sight and sound. Harley decided that nothing good could come from being found in the middle of the cloud, so she slipped away before the smoke and sounds dissipated.

 

 

 

Harley finally found a place to stay. It seemed to be the only abandoned building in the entire district. The place was an old prison, according to the locals she asked. Apparently it was condemned for being haunted by a bloodthirsty ghost around ten years ago. Harley decided she would take her chances with the supposed "ghost."

She found a rusted metal ladder built into the stone side of the establishment and discovered that there was an unlocked trapdoor on the roof. She paused for a moment before descending into the building to look around in the late afternoon sunlight. The building was quite tall. It towered over many of the buildings in the surrounding area. The closest building that was taller was a church that had to be about a quarter-mile south. Harley looked in the direction of her old home, to the east. She could barely make out the point where her district began; her house was too distant to see at all, let alone locate amongst the vast ocean of buildings that made up Nan'Soss. Loneliness swept over her. She missed Luna.

Looking away before she became to heavy-hearted, Harley descended the creaky, wooden staircase into the old building. It struck her as odd that there was no dust to be seen on the walls or stairs. She brushed it off as an inconsistency. Dust would have a hard time making its way up through the entire building, right? The staircase spiraled down, directly into a door which she found to be unlocked. Opening it revealed what she guessed was the warden's office, as there was an old-looking desk with a large, fraying chair behind it and smaller, wooden chairs in front of it. Along the wall hung various items: Rusted shackles, a broken sword, an old fraying top-hat, and many painting frames. The paintings that would have been in them were torn to pieces upon the floor beneath their frames. This piqued Harley's caution senses. Perhaps that ghost was real, or even still here?

She pulled out her knife out of its sheath and held it in her right hand, prepared to strike at anything that moved. While a normal knife would be useless against a ghost, the previous year, Harley had spent an entire summer learning to enchant her's with the ability to repel and cut spiritual beings. Her father had locked her outside the house all night, during which she had been terrorized by a stray, mischievous ghost. It had not caused her any real harm, but she had hated feeling so helpless against something she could not even touch. As a result, she spent the entire summer in the library, reading up on how to enchant objects to combat those of the spiritual world. For a moment she was inexplicably grateful towards her father for putting her in such a situation to prepare her for this moment, and felt a slight pull of longing to return home. Then the right side of her head throbbed in a twinge of pain as if to remind her why she left in the first place. Harley shook her head lightly to clear her mind and focus on the task at hand.

Harley lifted the knife slightly higher and walked towards the door at the opposite end of the room. She opened the door, which swung inwards, revealing an empty hallway, the setting sun's light shining directly in from a window towards the west. She looked both directions and went left, keeping the sun at her back. At the end of the hall there was a staircase leading to lower levels of the old prison.

She took the staircase down lower and lower, with the intention of figuring out how many floors the building contained. She had counted six rows of windows on the outside of the building, and had so far descended five floors. She should be on the ground floor. The particular staircase she was on ended on that floor, but she figured there was another that led to a basement of sorts; she hadn't seen any cells and they had to have kept prisoners somewhere. She explored the ground floor further, opening doors, attempting to locate the staircase she was certain lay behind one of the many entryways. Finally, behind the door directly across from the blocked off front entrance Harley found a descending staircase. She opened the door inward, and found the staircase to be too dark to see the bottom. Harley concentrated for a moment, thinking only of heat, light, and the sun. She snapped her fingers on her left hand and a small, bright flame burst into existence onto her fingertips. She opened the hand into a palm and the flame spread across her entire hand, illuminating the previously dark hallway with a light richer and fuller than any candle or torch could possibly hope to match. The flame burned without smoke or consuming Harley's flesh. It simply existed to give of light and a small amount of heat. Harley had to be cautious, though. Even such a simple spell as this could go awry. Magic was fickle and from experience, she knew that if she touched the flame to her clothes or hair, they may catch and spread to a real fire.

Harley paced down the stairs, holding the bright flame and knife at waist level. The wooden staircase creaked beneath her feet, as she reached the bottom step. The stair ended, giving way to a short hallway with dilapidated jail cells along the walls, all wide open, as if waiting to accept patrons. Each cell contained broken, rusted shackles and chains. They had obviously not been used in a long time. At the end of the short hall was a closed metal door. There was a large lock on the frame, but it was broken to pieces and it did not look as if it would even latch if one tried to force it to. Harley walked the length of the hallway, taking care to inspect each cell as she walked along, so as not to be caught off guard. When she reached the metal door, she noticed that the lock and chains that would hold it shut had been broken off from the outside, as they simply lay in a somewhat organized pile of broken metal upon the floor to the right of the door.

Harley pulled the rusted-looking handle, surprised to find it unusually smooth. The first thing she realized when she opened the door was that this prison was not so abandoned as she had thought. The room (which was more of a cave than a room), used to hold a large number of prisoners together, it seemed, held more people than Harley could count. There were at least forty or fifty people, if not more. As the door swung outwards into the hall, the five or six people closest looked at her, at first in expectation, then in surprise. Their eyes widened in worry, which quickly turned to panic.

Harley quickly tried to shut the door, but before she could even start pushing, a rope jumped at her from out of nowhere, entwining her arms together, forcing the flame in her left hand towards the knife in her right. Harley had no idea what might happen if the two spells clashed with each other, so she dropped the knife before its blade could meet the magic fire in her palm. As her hands collided, they clasped together, her enflamed hand meeting the now-empty hand. The flames splashed as if they were water, spreading in all directions, then dissipating into nothingness. Harley turned and tried to run, but another rope caught her legs, tying them tightly together. This sent her crashing to the ground. By then, people had begun to notice that something was happening in the hallway. Harley struggled against her bonds, as two men and a woman approached her.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t realize there were people here. Please let me go. I just wanted a place to sleep," Harley pleaded, but they did not look very interested in what she had to say.

"How did you find this place?" one of the men asked her. He looked to be about nineteen or twenty.

"Who sent you?" the other man asked. The woman said nothing and only watched intently, as if waiting for Harley to magic herself out of the bonds.

"I told you, I didn't even know anyone was here. I just wanted a place to stay the night," Harley repeated. "I don't have a home anymore," she finished.

The first man who spoke's expression softened slightly, but still remained suspicious. The second man still looked held an accusatory glare and the woman kept watching for signs of struggle.

"Please, let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone about this place."

"No, we cannot release you," the second man stated. "Whether or not you're telling the truth, we cannot risk someone finding out about this place through you."

Harley was at a loss for words, fearing imprisonment or even death, when something clicked in her mind. The pigtailed girl, the one-legged beggar, the magician with the flying pages. They all had to be part of the same organization and this was their base of operations. That's why they can't release me. If this secret got out, they'd be done in.

She progressed with caution: "I understand. You can't let me go because I could lead to the thieves' discovery."

All three captors' eyes widened in worry and quickly turned to suspicion again, this time stronger. A small crowd had gathered and they whispered amongst themselves in worry.

"That's what I thought," she said in reaction to their expressions. "This isn't just some organization of thieves, either. This is the Blue Spirit's league of thieves, isn't it?"

Before the others could respond, a voice rang out, "Quite right, you are, but what position does that put you in?" The voice was strange and unique. It was neither male, nor female, instead holding an otherworldly tone as it slightly resonated within itself, creating a ethereal effect. It came from a figure that was suddenly standing at Harley's head. This person, if it could be called that, was only barely taller than Harley. Its arms and legs were slightly longer than normal and unusually thin. It had no visible hands or feet. Instead, it wore white gloves and black shoes. Its body was covered in a loose, blue fabric that moved and changed shapes with its body. But its strangest feature was its face. It had overly large, blue eyes, with bright blue pupils, surrounded by a sky-blue color where the whites of the eye would be. The rest of its face was without mouth, nose, or ears. How it talked was a mystery. On top of its head rested a wide-rimmed, navy blue, pointed hat, similar to what a witch may wear. The Blue Spirit looked deep into Harley's eyes, as if it were reading her brain like a book.

I know who you are and why you are here, the Blue Spirit's voice echoed inside Harley's head. She blinked in surprise and shook her head automatically, trying to clear her thoughts and think over it. You come from a cruel family, yet you have much kindness in your heart. You seek refuge from your past, yet you wish to confront it some day. This is very wise of you. There is also much fear and mistrust inside you, but I see more potential in you than you could imagine. I can offer you a home and a way to replace those feelings with friendship and trust. Your skills will be valued and appreciated here, and you will be cared for by others, just as you will care for them. This, I swear to you as the Blue Spirit.

Harley's eyes brimmed with tears at the Spirit's words. It was a new thing to have tears of gratitude, than those of sadness or anger. She coughed slightly and blinked the tears away, I would be honored to join you and your…family.

The Blue Spirit spoke aloud, "Yes, I suppose that is what we are, is it not? A family. I like that very much. Welcome to our family, Harley."

At the Blue Spirit's words, the ropes binding Harley released themselves and flew to the woman that had been watching her for signs of magic. They shrunk in size, down until they looked to be little more than bits of string. Her gaze had lost the hostility and intentness it previously held. She smiled slightly at Harley as she pocketed the magic ropes and went to sit back where she had been before Harley's appearance. The two men offered quiet apologies, turned, and joined her. The Blue Spirit stood up straight and opened the door wider, presenting the room to her. Harley walked through the doorway, into her new home.

 

 

 

Within a week of coming to live with the thieves, Harley returned home to check on Luna. Her little sister seemed miserable. Harley hesitated before she considered bringing Luna back with her. Deciding it would be better to ask instead of just showing up with a little girl, Harley returned and put forth her query with one of the leaders.

"Absolutely not," the man called Jorin said.

"Why? There are dozens of members with families here. And she's suffering out there."

"You have no right to expect such a request to be allowed. You've been with us for how long? A week?"

Harley glared up at the man as he went back to busying himself by counting out the spoils of a successful raid. She was about to come back with an angry retort, when a voice cut in, "I don't see what the amount of time someone's been with us has to do with a child being in a cruel home." One of the men Harley had met when she came to live with the thieves, Lance, stepped towards Jorin with his daughter in his arms. The three-year-old giggled and reached towards Harley. Lance smiled and set her on the ground, letting her toddle over to Harley.

The little girl hugged her leg and smiled up at her, "Hi, Hall-ee"

Harley smiled back and picked her up, "Hey there."

Lance tussled his little girl's blond hair with a smile and turned back to Jorin turning serious. "If we can't help a little girl in need of a better home, one that is a sister to one of us, no less, then how can we be thieves of honor?"

"But what if she becomes a liability? Their father could come looking for them. Letting Harley join was a stretch in itself."

Harley spoke up, "I can't see my father doing anything about it. We were always a burden to him."

Jorin considered her words for a moment, then sighed with sense of finality. "Alright. You can bring her back here. Just make sure you aren't followed. By anyone."

A smile split Harley's face. "Don't worry, we'll be perfectly sneaky." She hugged and then set down the little girl in her arms.

"However," Jorin interrupted, "I want Lance to accompany you. To make sure nothing goes wrong."

Harley didn't know Lance very well, but in the short time she had been with the thieves, he had proven been one of the kindest and friendliest there. She watched his daughter toddle the short distance back to Lance's legs. She gripped the leg of his pants, tugging on it. With a smile, he swooped down and lifted her high up above him, to which she shrieked in delight.

Settling his daughter in his arms, Lance said, "That sounds reasonable. We do need to be careful." He turned to Harley, "I can leave whenever you're ready. I just need to drop this little monkey off somewhere. Where do you want to go, sweetie?"

The little girl giggled and then made a show of thinking about it, putting one tiny finger next to her mouth and rolling her eyes up us high as they would go, her face as serious as any three-year-old's. As if struck by the revelation of the century, her look brightened with a smile and she said, "Gramma!"

Lance smiled, "Alrighty, let's go see Grandma." Turning to Harley, he said, "You can come along, if you wish. Or I can meet you back here. We can leave right after I drop her off if you're ready."

Unused to being allowed to decide where to go, or when to leave, Harley took a moment to process that he was asking her what they were to do. Blinking in surprise, she said, "Oh, if it's no trouble, I wouldn't mind going with you to drop her off. I already have everything I need with me."

"Very well, Harley. Follow me, if you will." With a kind smile, Lance motioned for Harley to follow.

Harley and Lance walked through the expansive underground lair of the thieves for a short period of time in silence. Lance nodded and greeted people in passing. He was a well-know, well-liked person amongst the thieves. People would also greet his daughter with a friendly wave or kind word, to which she always responded with a wide smile and laugh. She seemed just as well-liked as her father. It led Harley to wonder just how long and why he was part of the Blue Spirit's thieves. As they passed yet another member with whom Lance was familiar, Harley's curiosity got the better of her and she asked him after they passed the person by.

"How long? Well why don't we ask the expert?" He directed his attention to the little girl in his arms, "How old are you, sweetie?"

The small girl brightened up moreso than usual and announced to the world, "Free!" Harley couldn't help but smile.

"Yes indeed. Three years it's been. My wife and I joined when she was pregnant." A wistful smile came across his face. "I still remember the day clearly. We had been hit with a spot of bad luck and had lost our home. We were getting desperate. Then we met the Blue Spirit. He offered to us a place amongst the thieves. I owe him my life."

"If…um…if you don't mind my asking, what happened to your wife?"

Lance's nostalgic smile turned sad. "She passed away in childbirth. Things had become complicated and her body couldn't handle the strain. She did get to hold her newborn daughter before she died, though. She passed away with a smile on her face."

Harley lowered her gaze to the ground as they walked. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Lance put a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. "It's alright. She gave me the greatest thing to ever happen to my life before she left." Harley looked up at him to see a the increasingly familiar, kind smile on his face.

Shortly after, they arrived at the home of Lance's mother-in-law. The thieves' living spaces were given relatively small spaces for sleeping, but there were large places to socialize, cook, and do activities. There was a cozy-looking, gathering of chairs nearby, as well as a small area for cooking including a wood-burning oven. They could hear the clanging of blacksmithing nearby, as well. Harley figured that the thieves' underground territory must span several city blocks beneath this district of Nan'Soss.

Turning back to the door, she watched Lance politely knock, and step back, waiting patiently. A moment later, the door opened to reveal a middle-aged, serious-looking woman with long, grey hair.

"Hello, Lance. How do you do?" She nodded politely to him. Her asking after him was serious, though not in an impolite or disapproving fashion.

Lance bowed his head slightly to her as well. "I am well, Blair, thank you for asking. How are you?"

"I am well." Changing her gaze, she looked down her nose at Harley. Her eyes, not only took her in, but also seemed to view Harley's immediate thought. In the same way she had looked to Lance, she did not seem to be disapproving, but they were intimidating. Harley felt suddenly very tiny and very nervous.

"H-hello, ma'am. Nice to meet you. I—um…I'm Harley." She was barely able to form an introduction with her words.

The taller woman nodded politely, "Welcome, Harley to my home."

Harley, though rather unsure of what to do, thanked her and nodded back. She was beginning to wonder why Lance's daughter had been so excited to come stay with such a serious lady, when Blair's shrewd gaze finally softened. A smile came to her face as she then turned to her granddaughter in Lance's arms.

"And how is my little cutie-pie doing today?" Her voice changed drastically from serious to doting.

The small girl's face brightened and she answered, "I'm real good!"

"That's wonderful, sweetie!" A genuine smile of adoration was across Blair's face. Lance smiled in resignation and passed his daughter to her grandmother. A happy cheer came from the little girl as she was handed off to the older woman. "Now, I have a very important question for you, sweetie, so listen very closely," Blair started in mock seriousness. The girl's tiny blonde head nodded quickly as she waited in suspense. "I need to know…which candy do you want?" She held up two little treats in one of her hands. In between her first two fingers was a rock-candy lollipop. Between the next two was soft caramel also upon a stick.

The small girl's eyes flicked between the two treats as she contemplated what seemed to be the hardest decision of her entire life. Suddenly, her eyes widened in realization. "Both!" she announced cheerfully.

Blair's smile became knowing, as if she had been expecting as much, which she probably did. "Well I suppose you can have both, but that doesn't leave any for Gramma, though" she said in mock disappointment.

Shocked at the prospect that her beloved Gramma would be without sweets, the little girl quickly changed her mind. "Here!" She grabbed both of the candies out of her grandmother's hands. She studied both of them intently for a moment. She stuck her tongue out and gave each sweet a lick.

Making a decision, a tiny hand put the lollipop back into the larger hand it had just pulled the sweet out of. "You can have dis one. It's gooder."

"Oh, thank you, sweetie." The girl's face brightened with another big smile. Blair took the candy and licked it a couple times. "Mmmm it's very tasty."

"Yeah!" The little girl, satisfied that she had made her Gramma happy, turned to her own treat and occupied herself with it.

Lance, gently stroked his daughter's light hair as she nibbled at her caramel. "She loves coming to see you."

Still smiling at the girl in her arms, Blair replied "And I love seeing her. And you as well, Lance." She turned her gaze up at him, her smile turned slightly reprimanding, "You should really visit more often. Not just when you need someone to watch her."

Lance smiled apologetically. "If you could hold on to her for a few hours, Harley, here, and I are going to help Harley's  little sister."

Blair, her face once again serious, nodded. "That's no trouble at all." She turned to Harley, "I hope your sister is alright, whatever it is that's wrong."

Harley smiled her thanks and looked up at Lance. We should go soon, if we want to be able to return before dark."

"Yes, indeed. Thank you, Blair." He put a hand on his daughter's cheek, "Now you be a good girl for Gramma, okay?" The little girl turned to him with big eyes and reached out her arms to him. He smiled and picked her up in a loving hug. She squeezed him as with as much strength that a three-year-old could muster. He kissed her forehead as he handed her back to her grandmother. "Bye-bye, sweetie."

"Bye-bye," she clenched and unclenched her hand in a little wave.

 

 

 

Arriving at her old home, Harley studied the front door of the building. Already, it was starting to look a little unfamiliar. She had grown up in the house, and had actually liked living there, despite her mistreatment. Shaking the feelings of unease, she peered through the window of the front door. At this hour, her father shouldn't be home, but she was trying to be as cautious as possible. If she had to recover her little sister with him present…she didn't want to think about that.

She tried the doorknob, but found it locked. Automatically, she tried to recall her father's mood when he left in the morning to determine if he would be angry to come home to a locked door. She shook her head to remind herself that she had not seen him in over a week.

"Is everything okay?" Lance asked in a low voice.

"Hmm?" She had momentarily forgotten he was there. "Oh, yes. One moment." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a key. She had found it in her pack and realized she had never taken it out since she last took her pack somewhere away from home. Trying it in the door-lock yielded no results, though. Taking a closer look, the door handle looked slightly different, a darker shade of iron. It was also not as well nailed into the wooden frame as it used to be. She assumed that either her father had replaced it, or made Luna replace it, no doubt because Harley had left. Judging by inexperienced handiwork, she would guess the latter.

"Is it locked? Here, let me try something. I know a good trick." Lance offered as he reached for the door handle with one hand and slid another into his own pocket. Before he could do anything, Harley put up a finger to signal him to wait.

Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and gently touched the wooden door with one hand, and the metal handle of the door with her other. Sensing with her magic, she felt the door in its entirety. She could almost feel every hand that had been lain on the door and every person that had walked through the entryway, including herself. Willing the door to open, she could sense that in a way, due to her magic the door recognized her, that she was not an intruder. With little exertion on her part, she pushed slightly on the door, which easily yielded to her pressure. Withdrawing her hand and magic from the now open door, it again became a regular door that didn't decide for itself who did and did not enter its portal.

Peeking inside, Harley called her sister's name out softly. Hearing no answer, she turned to Lance, "Wait here. Close the door and lock it, but keep a close eye on the street, and let me know if he comes. He'll be the only one coming near here with short-cut, grey-ish-brown hair and short beard."

Lance nodded his agreement and closed the door, locking it as Harley said. He took a position alongside the wall so he could peer out the window of the door and keep out of sight at the same time. Harley smiled her thanks. She didn't realize how much of a relief it was to have someone looking out.

Harley quickly made her way into the house. She poked her head into the kitchen and living room, seeing no sign of Luna. She figured that her sister must be upstairs. She quietly bounded up the steps, and called her sister's name again. This time she heard an answer.

"Is that you, Harley?" her six-year-old sister's head popped out from behind a door marked with a crescent moon. Harley half-laughed, half-cried with joy at finally seeing her up close again. At that moment she regretted leaving without her. Luna opened the door to her room and ran to Harley with arms outstretched. Catching her, Harley hugged Luna tightly. This time she really did start crying. Luna, too had tears running down her cheeks, a rare occurrence for the small girl.

"I've missed you so much, Lu-Lu." Harley calling her sister by her baby nick-name. Luna, hardly seemed to mind as she really started to sob. Harley knelt on the floor to better comfort her little sister. Luna squeezed as hard as she could, clenching her shirt in her hands as she wept. Harley whispered words of comfort to her, that things were going to be alright now that she was back, that she wasn't going to be leaving her again. After a couple minutes, Luna finally started to calm down. Harley smiled at her sister through her own tears. She wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve and looked at Luna's face, overrun by tears. Covering her hand in her sleeve, Harley gently wiped the tears from Luna's face. Satisfied with her handiwork, she leaned forward and kissed her little sister's nose. Luna smiled a little bit and sniffled a couple times, allowing herself to calm down. Luna wasn't a girl to cry easily. The last time she had cried was more than two years ago, when their mother had died. Harley remembered being surprised at how much she had cried; she had never cried too much before then, either. Luna was always an undeniably happy child, even as an infant.

Coming back to the present, Harley squared herself and looked directly at her sister. "Luna, sweetie, do you want to come live with me? There are lots of nice people and we'll be happy there." Luna had started nodding before Harley could finish. Relieved, Harley quickly hugged her little sister again. She stood up and reached out her hand, which Luna took without hesitation. They walked together back to Luna's room. Harley watched as Luna gathered her important belongings into a bag. Blinking in surprise, she recognized it as one of her own. Leaning out the door and looking down the hall, she realized that the door to her room was open. From what Harley could see of it, her room was in shambles. She had figured as much. Turning back to her sister, she resumed watching at Luna pack. Harley figured that Luna must have salvaged it before her father had ransacked her room.

Finished with her packing, Luna shouldered the bag. She and Harley just started down the hall towards the stairs, when quick, but light footsteps raced up the staircase. Luna clutched at Harley's arm as Lance appeared in the hallway, concern etched upon his face. Harley leaned down to whisper to her sister that Lance was her friend and here to help rescue her.

Lance spoke in an undertone, "I believe he's here. If we leave without him noticing, it won't be through the front door." As if to solidify his point, the front door made a loud clunk, followed by low cursing.

A muffled, but audible, voice rang out, "Luna! Open the door now! You know you don't need to lock this thing. You know better, you undersized brat."

Harley visibly winced at the cruelty in her father's words. She had rarely heard him speak so harshly to or about Luna before, and certainly not over something as small as a locked door. The three of them rushed into Luna's room. They closed the door softly behind them. Harley stood, thinking of as much as she could as fast as she could. They heard the lock on the door downstairs click. This didn't surprise her. Despite hating coming home to a locked door, he still usually had a key with him. She listened intently for which direction he was going. Recognizing the creaks and groans of the wooden floor that she had so often heard before, she recognized he was heading towards the staircase. Panicking, she looked to the window overlooking the street below. There were bars nailed to the outside of the house, blocking any route through that window. Not recognizing them, she realized he must have put them there after she left, to discourage Luna from doing the same. Her father's footsteps started going up the stairs. Lance intently watched her for instruction. It was her house, and she knew the layout and her father better than he. The footsteps had reached the second floor. She had a most simple idea.

Harley pointed to Luna's bed, which was against the wall, perpendicular to the door. There was space to either side of it. She crouched low to the ground, putting the bed between herself and the door. She motioned silently to Lance for him to crouch nearby, as well. The two of them hid like children in game behind the bed. Mere seconds before the footsteps and now grumbling could reach Luna's room, Harley whispered frantically to her sister, "Your pack!" Luna, realizing at the last second, dropped it off her shoulder and handed it back to Harley, just as the door-handle turned. Harley dropped her head below the bed just in time to see the door swing open.

"What are you doing, lazing around up here? I work all day long, and the last thing I want is to come home to a locked door to this messy house. I provide for you and all you can do is just sit up here like your good-for-nothing sister did." Harley felt the familiar frustration and anger coming back.

Luna's soft voice answered, "I-I don't know. I was just up here resting. I was about to…"

He cut her off, "You're always 'about to' do something, but you never do it, do you?" He scoffed as his tone turned sour. "It's just a matter of time before you become like your sister." His fist struck the wall. Luna jumped. "That stupid girl didn't realize how close she came to making me, no forcing me…" His voice shook with anger. "Anyway, I want to see you downstairs in five minutes, or I'll do to you what I should have done with Harley before she went and did something as stupid as leaving." Harley heard the door slam shut behind him and his footsteps fade down the hallway and eventually the stairs. Harley stood up and hugged Luna from behind. Her sister, strong once again, showed no signs of tears and only hugged Harley back with a small smile.

Lance spoke his first words to Luna, "You have my condolences and sincere sympathy for having a father like that. I shudder to think of treating my own daughter even half as harshly." His words were as much for Harley as they were for Luna.

Luna smiled kindly at Lance, "You sound like a good dad to your daughter. She's lucky."

Harley smiled at the exchange. She knew Luna would like Lance. Returning to the problem at hand, she surveyed the room and window. She supposed that she could remove the bars with magic, but it would take time, especially considering they had been placed there with the intent of keeping someone in. She looked at her sister's bed-spread. Another simple, yet effective idea came to her.

She removed all the blankets from the bed and started tying them together. Lance, catching on, started to tie as well. In a few seconds, they had three blankets tied together. Motioning to the other two, she poked her head down the hall and angled her ear toward the stairs. She could hear her father grumbling and complaining as he sounded like he was busy with making dinner for himself. Harley led Lance and Luna down the hall a short way to her old room. She pushed the ajar door all the way open, revealing just how wrecked her room was. She raised her eyebrows at the damage done and shook her head. There was a slightly sour smell within it. Her bed was overturned and her blankets were strewn across the ground. The nightstand upon which had rested a candle by which she used to read was also on its side, with the candle nowhere to be seen. Old childhood toys that had previously been in small wooden crates were also scattered about, many of which were broken. What made up the most mess, though were her clothes. They were strewn about the room, as if he had been searching for something. Upon closer inspection, however, she realized that many of her undergarments were piled together. Some were torn, others balled up tightly. They had obviously been handled intentionally. Suddenly her father's words that had just spoken to Luna came back to her: "That stupid girl didn't realize how close she came to making me, no forcing me…" The words didn't make sense a moment ago. Now they did. Harley stared at the pile of her private underclothes in disbelief. She had known her father was unkind and cruel, but never really knew why. Now she realized that he blamed her for more than just a messy house. He had blamed her for…she shuddered. She didn't want to think of what might have happened if she hadn't left when she did.

Harley suddenly realized what she could have indirectly caused when she left. She couldn't put off asking. She needed to know immediately. She quickly rounded on Luna. "Luna, sweetie. Did father…touch you or hurt you in any way?"

Luna hesitated for a moment, and then answered, "He yanked my hair a few times and slaps my head almost every time I get started on a chore. Except yesterday, he smacked me in the bottom." Luna's face showed that, while she didn't understand what it meant, she did know that it was worse than being smacked upside the head.

"Is that all, honey? Are you sure that's all he's done?" When Luna nodded, Harley breathed an audible sigh of relief. She turned away from her sister, placing a gentle, caring hand on Luna's shoulder. Reassured, Harley was able to get back to solving their dilemma. But before she could move onwards with their escape, she saw Lance, his line of sight flicking back and forth between her pile of violated underclothes and Luna. In his eyes burned a fire that could evaporate freezing water. He turned around, about to exit Harley's room, inches away from the edge of blind fury. Harley caught his arm. His gaze turned on her and softened slightly. Harley gave him a stern look that told him to let it go, that no real harm had come to neither her, nor her sister. Lance pursed his lips tightly for a moment, clearly desiring to exact the justice he felt the man who dared call himself a father deserved. But he surrendered and turned back to Harley's room, though his eyes pointedly avoided the pile of her private clothes.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Harley waded through the mess of her room to her window. It was free of bars, as there was no one occupying the room anymore. Harley opened her window and they let their rope of blankets tumble out it. She tied the end of the blankets to her bed-post which she dragged over as quietly as she could. Though satisfied with its taughtness, Harley held the makeshift rope as Lance, the heaviest, climbed down. Second, she sent Luna down it, so she could guide the young girl, and Lance could catch her if she fell. When it was her turn, she hesitated for a moment. She stuck out a finger, signaling them to wait for a moment.

Turning back, she quickly and quietly made her way into her sister's room. She opened her sister's drawers until she found what she was looking for. Concentrating on her magic, she conjured a small flame with the intent of burning only what she wanted it to. She set the fire down inside her sister's drawer and watched it quickly eat up and burn away all of her sister's panties and stockings. The fire went out as the last of the undergarments turned to ashes. Satisfied with her handiwork, she returned to her own room and conjured an identical flame, tossing it onto the pile of her ruined underclothes. She watched this magical fire burn them and go out as well. At ease, she turned to the blanket-rope hanging out her window and joined her sister and Lance.

Harley hugged her little sister as tightly as she could, filled with joy beyond words that she finally had her back. Releasing her, she offered her hand to Luna, who gladly took it. Lance, though not completely over his anger at their father, smiled at Luna, who beamed back and offered a hand to him as well. He took it gladly. Together, they walked back to introduce Luna to her new home.

 

 

 

Time passed quickly for Harley. She learned more about thieving than she thought there ever could have been. She studied under many different mentors and taught others what she knew as well. Harley also learned new aspects of magic, discovering many new spells and how to better stabilize her spells. She discovered that she was the youngest member of the league, although she was not at the youngest age to have joined. There was a young girl, currently at the age of fifteen who had joined when she was only nine. She met several people she recognized. There was the man who did the trick with flying paper and the girl with the pigtails, whose name was Tira. She even discovered that Lance had been at the well with his daughter the day she had left. But of all the people she met, Tira quickly became her best friend. Tira was sixteen and the newest member after Harley. The two of them became fast friends despite their age-difference. They often worked together out on the streets, teaching each other different methods and tricks. Eventually, they began to run many large-scale heists together, all of them somewhat to overly successful. After about a year of working together, a difficult situation arose. They were going after a seemingly harmless old man, who in fact was an old wizard. The man held a great number of magical treasures, many of which were so valuable, that just one could allow a small family to live in comfort for the rest of their natural lives. Harley and Tira had watched the man from afar, and determined how many riches he possessed, as well as his status as a wizard. The job went as smoothly as possible until it came time to leave with the goods they had acquired. Harley, the designated magic-detector, had not noticed the spell put upon the strange-looking sword resting on the wall. When Tira lifted it up off the wall, she had received a surge of magic energy that rendered her unconscious. Harley had abandoned all the treasures they were going to take and rushed Tira out of the building as fast as she could.

She had been in the streets, staggering under the older girl's weight when Lance found them.

He had administered healing magic and saved Tira's life. Tira was, of course, grateful for his kindness, but Harley was even more grateful. She had blamed herself for not thoroughly checking the room. She thought she had killed her best friend with no one to blame but herself and was almost hysterical by the time he had found them. Lance took on a role of watching out for and helping them from that point forward. He became something of a father-figure to Harley in particular, just as his daughter became like a second little sister to her. She finally had the family she never had at her original home.

Two years after this incident, Harley's world changed for the rest of her life.

 

 

 

At first, Harley and Tira had the easiest job in the world. They were to sneak into the mansion of the local governor and take a few valuables out of his treasure room. What made it so easy, was that the governor was on the other side of the city that night.

Once the sun fully set, they left from the roof of the old prison and sprinted their way across the roofs of the buildings. Tira was a skilled acrobat and could run the length of a rooftop and easily jump to the next. Harley was not as skilled in such a way, and instead made up for her lack of jumping and climbing power with magic. She used spells to work her way across the city. She ran across thin air made solid, slid from clouds turned into ice, and ran straight up the sides of buildings.

They reached the roof of the governor's house, a mile away, in less than twenty minutes. The roof had no entrance like the old prison, but there were several skylights. After a brief moment of searching, the girls found a skylight directly above the treasure room. Easiest job in the world.

Harley thought silently to herself about magic and its uses. Once she allowed it to encompass her mind, she released a flow of magical energy towards the glass. Some of the magic rebounded towards her, with it, reflections of what spells guarded the glass and area. She sensed fire traps, a flooding mechanism, and a poisonous gas ready to be released. All of these were disabled with a flicker of thought directing magic towards them. Harley concentrated harder, and sensed that the glass would fall upwards, if broken, an interesting trap, though it would help them if they used it correctly. Harley gave the thumbs up sign to Tira and motioned for her to back away. She directed a stream of razor- thin energy towards the glass and began to cut a person-sized hole in the top of the skylight.

Once it was cut all the way through, Harley released the spell. The circle of glass flew upwards at the same speed as if it had dropped straight down. Harley estimated that they had about ten minutes before the spell wore off. Harley cast the fire spell she had used before and tipped her hand above the hole, dropping the flames straight down into the room, revealing the treasures. The fire hit the ground with a curious, wet splatter and  grew slightly in size. Harley and Tira slid through the opening and followed the fire down into the treasure room. Harley had long-since learned how to keep the flames from spreading where she did not want them She could even use the fire as a perfectly safe cushion, which is what allowed them to fall safely from so high up.

Inside the room, there were many treasures: A sword made of pure gold, a statue of a man that looked to be carved from a giant diamond, a staff with a silver orb resting upon its top, a full skeleton of a small dragon, and more jewels than one could ever hope to count. Harley and Tira quickly grabbed as many small goods that were immediately available, loading up pouches, enchanted to be bigger on the inside than the out. They heard a sharp whistle coming from the hole in the ceiling. Without missing a beat, they started tossing the bags up to the noise, as Lance grabbed the pouches and, one at a time, tossed them across the street to the adjacent roof, where another thief would catch it, toss it to the next roof, and so on all the way back to the old prison.

After about ten minutes, all the pouches were loaded and passed up, Harley and Tira grabbed the rope that Lance lowered into the room and the two of them climbed it to the roof. At the top, the rope was held in midair directly above the hole by a spell Lance had cast, the end covered in wax stuck against an intangible wall. They each jumped from the rope to Lance, who caught them and set them down. Harley moved over to the skylight, and cast a spell of an invisible cushion around the rim of the glass that was to catch the disc of glass high above them whenever it decided to come back down. With any luck, no one would know they had been there until someone came up to check on the spells.

But luck was not with them that night. Harley and Tira were just about to follow  Lance across to the neighboring roof, when there was a horrible screeching noise in the immediate vicinity. Harley and Tira each looked in opposite directions. They had heard the noise from different points. Before anything could be done, the screeching sounded again from different directions, but this time originating from the adjacent roof, where Lance had just jumped.

"Lance!" Harley and Tira shouted towards him in unison. Tira took a running leap towards the building and landed with a smooth roll. Harley ran and cast the solid-air spell, a pace before she stepped over the roof. When her foot hit the roof, instead of the unique feeling of solid air, she stopped herself before she went pitching over the edge. She looked down at her feet in confusion and anxiety. She looked up, across the gap at the next building, and barely dodged a thick sheet of iron falling directly in front of her face. What confused her more than anything, was that she sensed her own residual magic coming from it. Stuff like that simply did not happen. One cannot try to make air solid below one's feet, and instead make an iron sheet by accident.

The screeching sounded from the far roof again, bringing Harley back to the situation at hand. She took several steps back and took a running jump across the roof. She landed harshly on her feet, sending a spike of pain up her ankles, but was otherwise unscathed. She looked up from her landing into the face of a large, dark green bird. She scrambled backwards in fright, nearly pitching herself over the ledge, but the face was gone the moment she had blinked. Behind the thing's face was revealed to be the same bird-headed monstrosity, wrapped in a black cloak, holding Lance by the neck with a strange, webbed, clawed hand. Harley saw Tira looking in the opposite direction, when she followed her gaze, she saw the same figure holding Lance, just as the one she originally saw vanished. Nothing made sense, people and things weren't where they were supposed to be, and magic wasn't working right. Harley shook her head, trying to keep her mind clear of the confusion. She and Tira ran up to the bird-creature-thing and were but a step away, when it turned around to face them.

The monster swung Lance towards them, knocking them aside with his body. Then it spoke in a voice not of this, nor any known world.

"LaNcE. ArE tHese your DaugHTERS?" Its voice creaked out in a dark, high, throaty tone. Every word bit at her ears. "YOU owe ME a PRICE TO pay. YoU wiLL giVE mE theiR liVes." And it reached for Harley and Tira with two hands that sprung unnaturally from beneath its cloak. The hands grasped them, but when they withdrew, they merged into one, and instead held Lance's actual daughter.

As Lance's daughter came into sight, Harley and Lance were suddenly back in the prison, in Lance and his daughter's room. Tira was nowhere to be seen. Lance's daughter looked as if she had just been awoken, but was stuck in a nightmare. The creature grasped her in its abomination of a hand and looked at her intently. The terrified girl struggled with all the might a six-year-old could put out. The monster looked at her intently and widened its black eyes at her.

"YouR PRICE for YOUR FOOlishness. THE thing yOu feArED MoSt has cOME To paSS."

"Please! Stop! I'll do anything! You can have my life instead!"

Dreading the worst, Harley dropped to the floor and pleaded with the creature as well, begging it to leave the girl alone.

The creature simply cackled, or at least uttered its own brand of laughter. Lance's daughter thrashed about, attempting to free herself from the creature's grasp. She swung her head back and forth, her blonde hair flying in all directions. Her legs kicked out violently, brushing against the creature's cloak, sometimes meeting resistance, sometimes knocking it completely awry. Its body structure made no sense, unnerving both the girl and Harley. Her arms, which were held tightly by her sides were of no use to her, as she pulled with her shoulders to no avail.

Lance fell to his knees at the feet of the creature, tears streaming from his eyes. "Whatever you want, please. Just spare my little girl," he pleaded.

"WhatEveR. I. WaNt?" The creature seemed to consider his offer. It turned its beaked head towards Lance and "smiled."

The monstrous being turned its hideous face back to the girl in its clutches. With its free hand, it reached out a single, webbed finger. Lance's daughter shook her head furiously and leaned as far away from the hand as she could, but it approached without hesitation.

The finger touched the girl upon the arm. She could do nothing but scream in nothing in agony. The monstrosity removed its finger, and her arm was blackened and charred, as if burnt. Smoke even rose from the injured limb. Tears poured from her eyes, as she cried in pain.

In a fury, Lance leapt forward and pounded his bare fists against the creature's torso. It paid him no attention, but he immediately fell backwards, as if suddenly struck on the temple. He bent over and retched, coughing up blood. Weakened, but paying no attention to his injuries he continued his assault upon the creature's legs, beating against them. Harley also attacked the creature, grasping at its cloak. The moment she made contact with its form, a wave of incoherence and confusion swept through her mind, as well as a throbbing headache and sickness in her stomach. She coughed violently and threw blood as Lance did. She had no idea the significance of what was happening. She had lost all self-awareness and could only watch:

The creature moved its extended finger towards the girl's stomach, and touched it as well. She thrashed through her tears, fighting against its influence, but could not keep from throwing up blood as Harley and her father did. The creature's bulbous eyes widened as it moved its finger up along her stomach, to her chest, her nightshirt fraying and falling apart along its path. As it worked its way up, the girl struggled about in pain in response to her insides being tormented. The creature rested its finger upon the middle of her chest. The girl looked down at it, terrified, fright taking precedence over pain. The monster splayed its hand out, the webbing between its fingers spread taught. The girl grimaced as it applied pressure.

"Are yOU prEPARed fOR deATH, chHilD?"

The girl looked up at its face, fear still present in her own. Despite her fear, she glared at it, as if daring it to do more.

The creature withdrew its hand and dropped the girl. She tried to catch herself, but her body was too damaged and broken. She collapsed to her knees, and Lance, who had been weakly, but tirelessly assaulting the creature, caught her.

"FAreweLL, LANCE. YoU HAve lEaRnED YoUR leSsoN," it swung its cape over itself and vanished, leaving behind a transparent, red glass in midair. Lance watched it fall to the ground and shatter. The moment it broke, his daughter gasped violently and convulsed. She shuddered for only a moment, then was still.

Lance, trembling, shook her gently. He tenderly brushed her blonde hair out of her face and whispered her name, almost pleadingly. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. And as the weight of his loss fully hit him, he broke down, crying uncontrollably. He clutched her lifeless form to his chest, and sobbed her name over and over.

The monster gone, Harley's mind was allowed to clear. She crawled forward and placed a hand upon his shoulder. He shrugged it off, but not unkindly. She could only sit there, and share in his sorrow.

At long last, Lance gently, ever so gently, set the girl's lifeless body down where she had fallen. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Leave." Harley started to protest, but Lance insisted, "Please. I…I need to be alone. Can you stand?" He turned and looked at her, their eyes meeting. Harley saw the eyes of a man who had lost everything he ever held dear in life. There were no more tears. His grief seemed to be beyond that level of sadness now.

Harley slowly stood up and walked to the door. She exited the room and looked back at him and his daughter before closing the door behind her.

The door latched shut, but she leaned up next to the wall, prepared to wait for whenever he emerge from the room. She heard the door lock a second later, which she found to be odd.

Only a few minutes later, a sudden, loud crash resonated from behind the door. Harley quickly turned around to open the door, fearing that the bird-monster-thing had returned, but it refused to budge. She pounded against it, shouting for Lance. When she received no answer, she used magic to unlock the door from the other side, but the door still refused to open. Any magic she used seemed to simply be ignored by the entry-way. There was now the sound of what seemed to be a torrent of air coming from behind the door. Harley could only wait and listen.

After about five minutes, she heard a scream. Not the kind of scream the creature had made, nor did it come from Lance. It sounded like a perverted, distorted scream of a child. There was another loud crash, followed by the sound of tearing and ripping. Silence followed, and Harley was once again forced to wait in it. She continued to apply magic to the door, trying to get through it.

Suddenly, a pitch black, shapeless form flew out of the room, passing through the door as if it were no more tangible than fog. It simply flew past her, and up through the ceiling without a trace. She would have doubt she had even seen it, if her spells hadn't suddenly started working the moment it disappeared. The door finally unlocked, Harley threw it open.

Lance's daughter was alive and well, standing in the center of the room. She had blood and an empty look of shock upon her face. Lance was gone and nowhere to be seen. The only thing that remained of him were a large scraps of bloodied clothing and a message upon the wall. Written in blood, it read,

"Please take care of her"

Harley looked at it and down at the shell-shocked little girl. She embraced her and wiped the blood off her face. "I'll take care of you, Rosie."