Shards From Other Stars

1. Magic & Darts

A yawn left Wylie's lips, her back leaning on the tree truck as she sat on the thick branch above ground.

This was taking much more time than she expected.

In her mind the game plan she devised was quite simple yet effective, the best she had ever come up with even if it was the exact same one she always used — it went a bit like, a lovely tune would play and then just like that she'd swoop in taking all the valuables — they would not know what hit them when they woke.

She was genius, and genius was her.

Her gaze fell on the clear sky above, the sun was partially blinding her as it shone through the leaves sheltering her the best it could.

Her hand rested over her eyebrows as a shield from the sun, she wouldn't love a headache right in the middle of a heist that has be dragging out for a while. Even if she could not tell the exact amount of time wasted, taking residence on the tree simply watching the graveled path as though it would magical walk away.

Magical walking away? Definitely not but float, yes she could definitely do that to the gravel for fun and as much as it hurt, right now was not the time for fun and games.

She didn't like to play on the job.

She had to be alert — she was too pretty to end up locked in the dungeons and let all her talent go to waste.

From a yawn to a sigh, Wylie lowered her gaze along with hand relaxing onto the tree. She couldn't mess around but at least she could appreciate the goodness in such scenery for a little longer, as long as her bum could hold out and not go numb.

Sure her black cloak folded into a tiny pillow providing cushion but it wasn't much nor was it comfy, it didn't make much of a difference in fact if she was being honest.

Wylie swung her left leg back and forth, following the rhythm that of the leaves. Her right leg had been residing quite comfortably and firmly on the branch.

She couldn't say that for her hair as strands of dark blue hair brushed against her face as the wind blew.

The bun she had carefully made to hold her top half back didn't seem helpful nor did it seem to be done right each time, she was well aware her blue hair was short — right above the shoulders — but she had seen men with the same length hair look smart in this style, her hair was just being stubborn.

Wylie huffed harshly placing the freed strands behind her ears, at least there they managed to stay.

Her arms fell to her lap, the navy blue sleeves were rolled up exposing her brown skin to the sun, soaking in the warmth. That and she had probably sweated enough to get tired and let them breathe out in the open.

She wished the same for her feet stuck in the boots and her legs from the leather pants, but that would have to wait for nightfall — she had a carriage to rob, misery and distress to cause.

If these travelers would not hurry it up with their travels, Wylie was going to fall asleep and then fall from a tree — her eyes felt quite heavy and this situation she led herself in, felt like a free stress-free massage than a mission to keep her alert.

Wylie's sleep daze rushed out as she stood on her feet, she picked up the sound of hooves hitting the gravel not far off — that meant horses were approving.

A smirk overtook Wylie's bored expression, it was finally show time and she would surely shine like the brightest star in the whole galaxy.

The black clock once act as her cushion rested on her shoulders once again, its hood covering Wylie's eyes and illuminating a shadow on the rest of her face.

Her trusty flute in hand pulled out her pocket, ready to play tunes of magical enchantment — a melody she loved dancing to — money she hard workingly earned to some degree.

She just had to wait a bit longer.

The horse sounds grew closer. Staring ahead she spotted the horse's mane a distance not so far from her, Wylie brought the flute her lips.

Gently blowing on it Wylie played a soft and slow melody, just the right tune to put anything listening to sleep.

Slowly the horses lost their hast movements, slowing down each second Wylie played the flute.

In no time the horses were laying on the gravel eyes closed all fours under them, her eyes darted to the coachman whose head tilted to the side eyes shut — the leather harness in hand slowly slipping out of his grip.

Seemed everyone that needed to be taken out, was taken out — Wylie smiled triumphant.

Wylie pulled the flute away. Immediately she jumped off the tree careless then walked towards the carriage.

Slipping the hood off, she hid the flute back into her pocket — she as well saw no need to draw out her dagger as she opened the doors to the carriage, it wasn't like anyone would pop out to fight her — they would all be knocked out cold.

Mentally giving herself a pat of pride and approval she pulled the carriage door open. And the last thing she had expected to see had to be the two king's guards passed — she would not miss that uniform and crest anyday even in her sleep.

Fearfully she slowly turned her head away from the guards to the other seat in the carriage, and she nearly choked on oxygen.

A pair of hazel eyes had been intensely staring right at her, studying her carefully like a science experiment.

Wylie froze. In this situation her plan was fucked because there wasn't exactly plan b for a situation like this, it never happened before — though the signs were visible, she should have noticed the carriage looked extra fancy and not as ordinary.

And the fucking horses — the horses!

She was only human — witch — after all. Mistakes were made and she'd learn from that, staring today if she lived to see tomorrow.

The royal family could not be enchanted and well, she was definitely one of them — totally fucked.

"Apologies, this is the wrong carriage." a few words left her lips as let go of the carriage door, bowing. It wasn't until nothing came from the other side that she straightened her posture, looking up.

Her hair strands brushed against her skin once more — she was definitely going to be arrested tomorrow, she groaned, why did she have to take off the hood.

Jocus-pocus, identity remain anonymous, no more!

"I'll be on my way." Wylie turned not wasting not a second, and that should have been the last thing she did — turning her back on an enemy.

Her hand fell on her neck as she felt something pierce skin — sharp and painful. Pulling it out, in her palm was a dart she had to blink her drowsiness away as her eyes felt heavy and her gaze was drunk dazed.

Wylie hissed once more as another dart pierced her skin, it wasn't like it wasn't working — it was — just that she was having a delayed reaction and she supposed the dart shooter was growing impatient at her still standing.

Her eyes grew heavier, her feet couldn't move as she wanted them to do and run, escape captivity. Next thing she felt had been her body loosing balance falling to the ground, rather harshly.