The Celestial Heart

The woman dodged the puddle as she made her way into the second alley, looking back frantically. Behind her, a dozen footsteps splashed on the puddle, their reflections obscured by the ripple in the water. The men wore black leather jackets with an insignia of a black raven, stitched with silver thread. The woman stopped in front of the vast wall, blocking her exit, her hands tightly gripping a package wrapped in green velvet, which she held dearly to her heart. She could hear the voices closing on to her, her auburn hair whipped back and forth with the sudden cold air. There was a vine climbing up to the roof of the house. The woman gripped the vine, which automatically responded to her plea and strengthened itself against her weight. The woman climbed the vine with inhumane speed and jumped to the roof, taking deep breaths as the lights in the alley suddenly grew brighter and the men approached. She looked down in fear, then hid herself behind the low rising wall. "Where did she go?" a man yelled. "We lost her," another one shouted. "search the area. She couldn't have gone far." The man with the red leather jacket, clearly the leader of the group, commanded. She knew she wouldn't be able to run further. Her energy was draining, her body was feeling fatigue, and the pain of all the running came rushing back, making her thighs throb. The woman slowly unwrapped the green velvet and stared at the ordinary brown leather bounded book. It had no title, nor a name. There was a brown splotch at the top right corner, and she knew whose blood it was. She opened the book, which turned out to be a handwritten journal with dates and diagrams. The woman turned over the pages furiously, her green eyes scanning the handwriting, and then stopped when she found it. She cleared her throat and stood up, knowing the men could spot her. She looked up at the full moon, raised her small hands toward it, and chanted loudly. "EGO IUBEO CELRARE ME CELARE." The clouds gathered above her, hiding the moon. The wind flapped her torn dress violently, her hair rising over her head. "IMPEDIAT MALUM ET DEFENDAT ME." She stopped and brought her arms down. She could hear the men behind her, looking at her with fear. She turned towards them, smiling, the book in her hand. "What have you done?" The man in the red leather jacket whispered. The woman raised the journal toward the sky and again chanted, "ABSCONDERE TE." The clouds grumbled, and the book disappeared from her hand. "GET HER," the man shouted. The group stepped forward, but before they could take another step, a purple lightning struck the woman. When the lightning cleared away, all that was left of her was her body. "Is she dead?" the man asked. The red leather jacket pushed away from the men and walked towards her, bending down. He checked her pulse and then snorted. "She put a curse on herself." He snapped his fingers, and the men carried the necromancer's body away.