Obsidia vaulted through the open window, shrouded in the magical mist. Beforehand, she had been wary of revealing another one of her powers to them, but eventually realized she had to. They had already had evidence of her existence, which left her two options; flee now and leave behind proof, of reveal both herself and her power, but erase the physical evidence. She chose the latter, hoping that the pair would be written off as insane. What she didn’t know, was that they had before, and it had a slim chance of working again.
The mist automatically shifted to allow her to see. Unfortunately, she spotted the box containing the damning evidence in the pale Mud Boy’s hand.
He took a half step back, eyeing her warily. He took a breath, about to call out to someone, but no sound was heard. He coughed and staggered as the mists’ anesthesia quickly pulled him to unconsciousness. He would be out for a few hours, and then wake up with a headache like murder.
He fell to the floor and Obsidia darted foreword, making a desperate grab for the box. Before she reached it, however, a sharp pain stabbed her shoulder from behind. The elf! She was probably trying to sedate her, but tranquilizers didn’t work on her. The only thing that worked was…
All of a sudden, she felt very woozy, her head clouding. Oh no. She reached behind her and ripped the dart out of her shoulder and read its label. Impossible.
“Holy water.” Said the elf in a low ominous tone, then shimmered into existence in front of her. Her helmet was on, preventing the magic from knocking her out. She was about to say something else, but then her visor buzzed up, revealing an oxygen mask and wide mismatched eyes. She looked over her, filing away her appearance.
She looked about fifteen or sixteen with hair like rich dark chocolate. She was dressed in all black, but not in a goth way, but more like someone who was trying to blend into the shadows. Her black combat boots had become worn and they had a thin layer of fresh mud on them. Her ruler-strait chocolate hair covered one eye, but the other was downcast.
The elf’s hand darted foreword, pulling her chin to see her eyes. She jerked away, but too late. The elf had seen them.
She gasped. “Y-Your eyes. They’re silver.”
The realization on her face could be read like a book.
“You’re a siren.”
“Damn strait.” hissed Obsidia before the darkness as the edges of her vision enveloped her completely.
Holly stared down in utter shock at the unconscious siren, the thick fog quickly dissipating as its masters’ control faded. Holly dropped to the ground next to the unconscious Artemis, slapping an adrenaline patch to his neck. After a few seconds he stirred, sitting up and rubbing his temples.
He glanced at the unconscious girl and picked up the dart she had dropped when she fell. He read its label and gave Holly a quizzical look.
“Holy water? I thought it was poison to fairies.” He said, handing the dart to her and walking, unsteadily, to his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of extra-strength aspirin.
“To most it is, because their magic isn’t strong enough to counteract it. Sirens, however, it will sedate for a few hours because their magic can overcome it.” answered Holly.
Artemis’ eyes cut to her sharply.”If holy water could even kill No1, exactly how powerful are sirens exactly?”
“They have more powers than any other race, we’re not even sure that what we are aware of is the full extent. The ones we do know about are hypnosis, through song, incredible strength and agility and an odd silver dust that comes out of their palms. That dust does a wide range of things. That’s where we don’t know everything it does. That’s what the little creature is, I’m sure. That fog was actually a mist that, if closely examined, is particles of raw magic. A good distraction and only the siren can control it to see through it. They can create almost anything with it and highly skilled sirens can control the objects with their mind, like telekinesis, except it only works on the object of their creation. They’re very dangerous. Their song holds more power than mesmer ever could, but it still requires eye contact.” Holly finished, still eyeing the slender girl that could kill them all.
Artemis looked at the girl again, finding it difficult to believe that such an innocent looking creature could bring about such destruction. “Is it possible to restrain her?” he asked softly, a silly precaution not to wake her up.
“I’m not sure. The records never said anything about how well restraining them worked. Supposedly, they all died off two and a half millennia ago. Not exactly top-notch records. They also disappeared before The Book was written, so they were never mentioned in it.” replied Holly.
“I assumed as much, because I hadn’t heard about them until now. Were you at war with them when they disappeared?” asked Artemis.
“Oh gods, no. With the power they hold? It would be suicide for any army that tried. They could wipe out the Earth if they wanted to. No, they were dying out because a different strain of Spelltropy had broken out. The test subjects died before a cure was found. We assumed they were all dead. Once again, writing people off as dead has come back to bite us.” answered Holly wryly.
“Hmmm… so it has.” Artemis rubbed his temples again. ”I suppose the mist has side effects. At least one, at any rate.”
“Headache.” said Holly.
“You don’t say.” droned Artemis, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Holly finally bent foreword and slung the unconscious siren over her shoulder. The limp girls’ hair, which came to her waist, dragged the ground as Holly made her way to the study doors.
“I suppose we’re about to find out how well restraining them works.” she said, pushing the door open with her foot.
“I suppose so.” murmured Artemis and he followed her out.
Obsidia blinked as the hazy lights slowly sharpened and she tried to sit up, but Plasticuffs kept her from raising more than a few inches. She cursed and settled back down onto the too-firm cot, preparing to break them with her considerable strength. She was about to yank free when a voice sounded from hidden speakers.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. The needle in your left arm will administer another, heavier, dose of holy water and you will wake up restrained again. It’s best not to struggle from the start.” said a cold, calculating voice, no doubt belonging to the pale youth.
She glanced at her left arm and saw that there was, in fact, a hypodermic needle in her forearm, nearly to the crease of her elbow.
She glanced at the camera the arrogant Mud Boy made no effort to hide and began to shout. ”Threatening now, are we? Threats are empty when they are hidden behind those speakers Mud Whelp! You cower behind them, knowing I could break you like a twig you arrogant son-of- a…”
She continued yelling obscenities at the camera until someone she hadn’t noticed before spoke from the corner. The elf, Holly.
“In the name of Frond, shut up! Yelling at a camera is clearly getting you nowhere and you’re not exactly in the best place to be making threats yourself.” said Holly. She leaned casually against the corner, her handgun twirling a complex dance around her fingers.
“Do you really think I can’t just break the handcuffs and pull out the needle? The people sure have lost their common sense over the millennia.” Obsidia sneered.
“Actually, if there weren’t tension sensors in the cuffs, that would immediately administer the holy water when snapped, you probably could. Not quite prepared for that, eh?” smirked Holly, flipping the Neutrino, as labeled on its side, into its holster, cowboy-style.
Obsidia mentally groaned and looked at the links on the cuffs. Sure enough, thin, delicate wires were threaded between them on both cuffs. “So what are you going to do? Keep me here and torture me? Hold me for ransom?” The elf smiled wryly at that one.
“Ransom has already been checked off on the blacklist. No, we have other things planned. You’ll find out soon enough.” and with that, the elf strode out o the chamber.