Mistfall

Mistfall

Cover Artist: Tugboat Design

Formatted by: Tugboat Design

www.tugboatdesign.net

Mistfall

Copyright 2012 Olivia Martinez

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places
and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons,
living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For Merle and Grace. I love you!

I wanted to thank everyone that helped by
editing, critiquing, or cheering me on.

Melissa, Michelle V.,

Karin, Hailz, Niki,

Mandy, Michelle C,

Kristi, Liz, Kelly,

Melissa F., and Layla Darnell.

Thank you for helping, it means a lot to
me!

When I was five years old, my parents had me
exorcised. On occasion I had told my parents that I could do
things. They always put it off as the imagination of a young child.
One day, I showed them. I made three bouncy blue balls rise up in
the air and travel around the living room. My parents freaked out
and went to the psychologist for Valium and sent me to a priest for
an exorcism.

At five years old, most things that went bump
in the night scared the bejeebees out of me. Being the object of an
exorcism at such a young age was the single most terrifying thing I
had ever been through. Father O’Rourke looked like he was possessed
himself. He began the demon expulsion by flinging water at me and
screaming incoherent Latin.

The worst was when he pushed me to the
ground. I started kicking and screaming because I thought he was
going to kill me. He, on the other hand, thought some demon was
fighting him back and held me to the ground, still yelling Latin at
me.

After a terrifying twenty minutes it was
over. I was pronounced demon free. My parents were ecstatic and I
had learned a very valuable lesson. I was never going to tell
anyone my secret again.

I never mentioned a word of what I could do
for three long years. It was only when I met my neighbor Willa,
that I spoke once again of my powers.

Willa had moved next door to us a few weeks
after my eighth birthday. My mother was a bit wary of our new
neighbor, though her apprehensions never seemed to matter when
Willa offered her services to babysit.

My parents never treated me quite the same
after my little display and distanced themselves from me. As good
Christians, they wouldn’t turn me away though. I did, however,
spend a lot of time at Willa’s.

I didn’t mind the arrangement either. Willa
was an eight year old’s dream. Cookies and milk always flowed, the
stories were over the top, and she never told me to be quiet. Willa
didn’t just let you color or play dress-up, she joined in too. It
was great having a playmate that acted young enough to be my
friend, but old enough to turn on the oven and make cookies.

In a few short months, Willa became my
trusted confidante. I would tell her my secrets and she told me
hers. One day, I felt that I could tell her about my magic. I had
her watch as I spilled my milk on the floor and magically made it
pick itself up and return to the glass.

She didn’t react the way my parents did,
though I wasn’t expecting the reaction she did have. Willa whisked
me to her basement. There were no windows. It was floor to ceiling
stone. Even the door was made out of stone. It was a little
weird.

“The stones keep our secrets,” she responded,
as if she knew what I was thinking. “You can never tell anyone your
secret Mags, you have to promise me that.” I looked down at my
toes. I was ashamed to tell Willa that I had told someone…my
parents. I found the courage though and told her the story of my
exorcism.

“Bah,” Willa said, shaking her head. “Stupid
priests, they don’t know the difference from a demon possession and
a hole in the ground. Well, from here on out no one else needs to
know. What the priest did was negligible to what others would do if
they knew your secret. Promise me Mags; promise me you will never
tell anyone else.”

“I won’t Willa. How come you aren’t scared
like everyone else?” I asked.

“I am just like you,” she replied.

“What do you mean, just like me?” I must have
looked as confused as I sounded because Willa softly laughed at my
question before she answered. “Child, we are jinn, born from a
smokeless flame of the great scorching fire.”

“What’s a jinn?”I asked.

“Ever see ‘Aladdin?’”

“Oh I love that movie Willa! It has a genie
that grants magical wishes.”

Willa smiled at me. “Child, a genie is a
jinn.”

I thought I felt my jaw hit the floor.
“Willa, I don’t want to be a big blue blob without any feet, stuck
in a lamp for thousands of years.”

“Well then, don’t worry; none of those things
are true, except the name. You, my love, are jinn.”

“Eew Mags, that’s so gross. I AM NOT remaking
dinner!”

I had just slain a ghoul that was intent on
having me for its evening meal. It just so happened, the arm I
severed landed in the pot my roommate, Melissa, was using to make
chicken and dumplings for dinner.

“What Melissa? Would you rather have had your
dinner ruined or been that thing’s chew toy?” I asked.

Melissa had been my roommate and best friend
for the past five years. She was used to my sarcasm by now. That by
no way meant I was forgiven for the ghoulie stew though.

“I get it, I really do. All of Hades has it
out for you and this is a part of your life, but can you keep it
out of the food Mags?”

I tried lightening the mood. “So what are you
making for dinner?” I ducked as Melissa lobbed an onion at me.

I probably should’ve been more apologetic
instead of sarcastic to my roommate seeing that was, including the
ghoul, the third hell-monster that made its way past her wards this
week. Melissa is a Witch and a pretty powerful one at that.
Unfortunately, that meant Iblis just upped the ante on my capture.
Damn, I thought I was going to have a quiet night.

Iblis. Besides being a huge pain in my ass,
he’s one of the biggest, meanest baddies out there. He’s the basis
for what the humans call Satan. Yup, I had that hunting me down. Oh
wait, the hits just keep on coming. I also had the Aelfadl after me
too.

Aelfadl is Elvish for nightmare and is the
name of the elven assassins. They’re supposed to be the good guys
and they probably are too, but they’ve been chasing me since I was
twenty, for the crime of being born an Iblian jinn. They, along
with Iblis, could kick rocks for all I care.

I’m a jinn. There are three types of us: the
Ifrit, Marid, and Iblian. Ifrits are the weakest of our kind. They
reside in Hades, can change into different animals, and are
notorious firebugs. Marids have to be the most arrogant and vain
individuals I have ever met. They are stronger than the Ifrits,
prefer watery abodes, and require a great amount of flattery to get
them to do anything. Then there’s the Iblian jinn, the most
powerful type of jinn and what I happen to be.

Want to know a sure fire way to tell who’s an
Iblian? We have violet eyes, the only beings to have that trait. I
may as well have a bull’s-eye attached to my backside. There are
also only two of us left, Iblis and myself.

I can’t speak for Iblis, but I prefer my
house on the Mistfall side of Harmony, Kentucky, comfy fleece
jammies, and I am pretty law abiding as long as something isn’t
trying to kill me.

The Aelfadl doesn’t care about the other
jinn, just us purple eyed lovelies. About two hundred years ago,
The Powers That Be of Otherworldy Creatures (The Powers from here
on out) deemed Iblian jinn a threat to all of our kind and decided
we needed to be hunted to extinction. I’m not saying they weren’t
right, but I know of one living exception to the rule.

I’ve been told that Iblian jinn originated
the term hell raiser. I guess they were all in competition for
enslaving and ruling otherworldly beings and at one point became a
threat. I get their point, but can’t a girl get a fair trial?

Iblis…I have no clue why that bastard has it
out for me. Shortly after I made it onto the Aelfadl’s radar, he
started sending his minions after me. Thank Hades for weapons
training!

Ghouls weren’t the hardest things to kill,
but they sure were messy. They were rotting flesh bags with brains
and had a penchant for eating their kills. The dead one in my house
was starting to stink up the place.

I closed my eyes and imagined the ghoul’s
body and its recently liberated appendage disappear, along with the
ruined dinner. Thinking I didn’t want my house smelling like a
corpse flower, I magicked a little air freshener too. I figured I
owed Melissa a dinner so I conjured up her favorite, chicken tikka
masala.

Melissa’s concerns were forgotten momentarily
as she dug into her dinner, relishing every spicy bite. After a few
mouthfuls she put her fork down and sighed. “You can’t keep
placating me by magicking up my favorite foods every time I get
upset. I’m going to get fat!”

“You’re lucky I make them low cal then,” I
told her, “otherwise we’d be hauling you out of here with a
forklift!”

Thwap. I rubbed the back of my head where the
onion found its target, a bump beginning to form. “Ouch! A bit
touchy are we?”

Melissa smirked. I didn’t want to get up
close and personal with the rest of the produce in the house, so I
changed the subject to the Introductory to Magic class she taught.
“Have your students mastered the Mistfall spell yet?” (Mistfall was
a spell that kept us secluded from the prying eyes of the humans.
It looks like fog and if a human was to take a close look, their
attention gets diverted elsewhere, making them forget what they
were doing).

“No, not yet,” she sighed. They don’t seem to
want to learn anything above basic spells and potions.” She shook
her head. “Not a one of them want to bother with anything that
looks, smells, or feels like work. It’s all instant gratification
with these kids and they’re our future. I think my species is
doomed.”

I laid my hand on top of hers. “I’m sure it
will all work out,” I reassured her.

Melissa’s a natural teacher. I think her goal
in life is to pass on the knowledge she has to someone deserving of
it. Deserving young Witches and Warlocks were few and far between
these days and you could tell it bothered her more than she was
letting on.

As far as Witches go, my roommate had a hand
dealt to her by the goddess herself. Not only was she powerful
enough to possibly end up on the Witch’s council one day, she was
beautiful too. She has honey-blond hair, skin the color of cream,
and curves in all the right places. I’ll admit I am a bit jealous
of her. I’m not deficient in the looks department, but I feel
rather plain compared to my best friend. I’m on the tall side with
long, raven black hair, skinny, and would call my curves
proportionate. Nothing to complain about, but every girl has her
insecurities.

“Forget about it.” Melissa shook herself out
of her bad mood. “We should probably go and train. I’ll work off my
frustrations on you.” She smiled at the thought which told me I was
in for a tough training session.

“Alright, I’ll meet you in the basement in
ten minutes,” I told her.

I went to my room and changed into my
favorite pair of black yoga pants, a hot pink fitted tee, and my
tennis shoes. I really wasn’t in the mood to train since I had
battled it out with the ghoul earlier, but Melissa never lets me
take a break, regardless of what recent attack I’ve had. Needless
to say, between her and the beasties, I keep in pretty good
shape.

“Come on, you’re not even trying Mags!” she
reprimanded and swung one of a pair of hooked swords towards my
midsection.

I jumped out of the way in time and deflect
her strike with my sabre, a slightly s-shaped sword. Why the
weapons training if I have magic or why not a gun? It’s good to
have a back-up defense and bullets, while they hurt like hell, are
ineffective. Only weapons made by the dwarves of Elemental Deep
cause us any lasting trauma. Dwarves won’t make guns or bullets
either.