My Ranking Points
This is set around 50 years before Agatha and Sophie arrived. Also, it’s my first time posting, so enjoy.
Weak sunlight shone through the dead branches of the trees, lighting Zajara’s path. Poisonous mushrooms ridded the path, of various colours and sizes. Jugger, her albino snake, curled around her left wrist, ice-blue eyes flashing malevolently.
On Mount Echna, everything was dead and lifeless. Sometimes, an eagle’s screech would rip through the air, or the faraway bleat of a mountain goat. Zajara preferred the dead landscape to being at home with her mother. It was always fascinating to discover a rotten carcass, or a pile of gleaming white bones, once belonging to a creature before being slaughtered by a predator.
Zajara knew it wasn’t long before she was taken to the School for Evil. Her mother had already packed her luggage, and honestly, Zajara found it a bit insulting her mother was so confident that she’d be sent to the School for Evil. However much she thought that the whole idea of the two schools was illogical, it wouldn’t change her fate.
Suddenly, a shriek tore through the air. In the distance, a skeletal figure whacked away an eagle. It was headed straight for Zajara. Its sharp claws were curved in, as if preparing to hook Zajara by her shoulders. Zajara recognised it as a stymph, weird creatures who roamed the Woods.
Zajara sprinted down the rocky path of Mount Echna, slamming open the door to her house. Her mother was resting on a stool, casually flipping through some age-old, wrinkling books. She glanced up, annoyance flashing in her face. “Finally! That good-for-nothing bird’s here. Here’s your suitcase. Don’t come back soon, don’t write to me! Have a great time, darling!” Zajara’s mother tossed her suitcase, before locking the door shut.
Jugger hissed at the incoming stymph, pale tongue flicking in and out of his jaws. The stymph snatched Zajara’s suitcase, before hooking her and flying away. “I feel distinctly unsafe,” Zajara told the bird, as they soared above the desolate kingdom of the Murmuring Mountains. The stymph cawed, irritated.
Wind whipped Zajara’s hair, and whistled in her ears. She felt her hair rise as the stymph soared above the Endless Woods, until two twin towers were revealed through a veil of gloomy fog. It wasn’t exactly two twin towers: One was crystal white, its white peaks scratching the clouds above. The other was soulless black, lightning crackling around its sharp points, which disappeared in thunderclouds. A moat bordered the black tower, full of slime and mud.
So, of course, the stymph released Zajara from its wicked claws, dropping her into the dark moat, down, down, down, as if a force was pulling her down. Jugger let out a vicious screech, as Zajara started an airborne battle with her suitcase, white fingers gripping the handle tightly, as her tongue turned dry.
At that moment, Zajara wished gravity wasn’t real, as she landed, face-first, into the moat.