Page 1 of Dark Angel

1

London

1885

Thick greying clouds drearily fill the low hanging sky. Rain threatens to drum down from the abundant mist covering the spires of the grand London buildings. Black smoke chuffs from skinny chimneys, pumping out in puffs and swirls, mix into the stormy abyss above.

Mortals wander around aimlessly, with some carrying parasols in preparation of drizzle. Mortals don’t stand out against the supernatural folk. They’re dressed in ordinary clothing, frilly and admirable, and their eyes give away their humanness-dull, as if nothing sparks joy inside of them. There is nothing enchanting or magical in their lives and it shows in their innocent, lacklustre expressions.

Mortals are aware of the supernatural world that lives amongst them. The creatures that lurk in darkness, that feed off Mortals, or change appearance. The Marked ones, born with Marks branded into their flesh, try at all costs to keep any supernatural threats from disrupting the Mortal world.

For a Marked one, they can see every creature stalking this world. Every Mark that’s inked on their skin, signifying their particular kind.

Enchantments restrict entry to some places in London, allowing only Marked ones to enter such as the Marked Market down by the docks, various taverns lining London’s busy streets, and certain storesor apothecaries. The Ascendancy building, where the Seraphim come to train and learn to protect all kinds from the Infernal forces, is also enchanted for only Marked ones to enter.

Some Marked creatures are more common than others. Spellcasters, who are among the more prevalent kinds, are born with the magical ability of enchantments. They’re able to perform spells and rituals and are often found selling elixirs and potions to other supernatural creatures down at the market. Spellcasters have a small black marking of flames branded on their flesh, indicating their kind to everyone else.

Elementals are one of the most powerful creatures inhabiting Earth. Their powers are similar to that of a Spellcaster, but with the ability to manipulate Earth’s elements to their own advantage. Some can create sparks or control flames, while others can manipulate water or can create whirling winds. A silver triangular Mark showing their chosen earth element in the centre is visibly inked on their forearms.

Shifters are the most vicious ones. Majority of them have the ability to shift into predatory animals, yet some are gifted enough to change into other people, or even spirits of the dead. They take on the persona of the beast they transform into-most are aggressive and easily angered. Two amber circles overlapping-two souls trapped inside of one body-Marks their skin.

There are some lesser-known creatures that roam the streets as well. Faeries, Sprites, Augurs, Vampires, Hell Hounds and even the occasional Nymph or Pixie. Each kind is Marked in a unique way.

Kora hurries through the crowded streets of London, squeezing her way through a small group of women peeping through the window of an expensive hat store. Fabric hats of every colour, size and shape line the front stands. This particular store sells quite unusual hats that Kora would never be caught dead wearing. A periwinkle wide-brimmed with peculiar gold and white feathers, and emerald bowlers covered in cheap light-reflecting gemstones replicated by Mortals from the actual stones found underground. They’re the sort of hats sheexpects Mortals to wear to horse races, soirees and fancy picnics. They don’t seem to have as much fashion sense as Marked ones. Then again, most Marked kinds are immortal and have lived through centuries of style changes.

One lady turns around to glare with her narrow brown eyes in Kora’s direction as she hastily pushes past them, accidentally knocking the woman’s shoulder.

Kora continues on her way, ignoring the angry glare the woman directs her way. She is in no mood to be scorned at for having poor manners right now.

Her black leather boots splash in muddy puddles still pooling from the downpour earlier this morning, slightly wetting the tips of her toes. She also ignores the bottom of her green skirt dampening from the drenched dirt ground as she makes her way towards the London Docks.

It’s normal for the docks to be busy this early on a Friday morning, since it’s the day that ships are allowed to enter the port to start unloading their merchandise in time for the weekend market. Kora’s been waiting for this particular parcel to arrive for a week now.

With her throat dry like sand and heart thumping wildly, she enters the chaotic docks. Stalls upon stalls made from water bitten timber and rain-stained canvas are crammed into the small area. Marked kinds are hurrying around, replenishing their stock or bargaining with customers. Coins are being rattled, meat is being smoked and glass bottles are knocking together. Kora’s arms shiver slightly from the late autumn wind gusting off the River Thames and blowing through the marketplace.

Strolling over to the shorter man standing behind one of the wooden stalls to the side, Kora takes a moment to study him. Scruffy colourless beard, untamed and wiry, matching the half balding hair clinging to his head. Stormy grey eyes like the sky above, framed with wrinkles, meet hers as Kora approaches him.

“Parcel for Miss Hamilton.” She says politely.

Kora pulls her white gloves off her fingers, the chilled, crisp air nipping at her skin instantly as she fiddles with loose change in the pocket of her dark coat. Handing him a shilling, the man wanders off in search of her parcel.

"Kora!" She hears the familiar voice call out from behind her.Turning on the spot, she sees her friend, Matthew Blackwell, appearing from a group of well-groomed men dressed lavishly in fine coats of cashmere and silk cravats. A smile gleans his face, loosening her muscles Kora hadn’t realised were so rigid.

She’s known Matthew since they were young children. Born only months apart from each other, he’s more like a brother to her than a friend. Their parents grew up together in London also, which added to their closeness. Matthew and Kora have trained together countless times and fought side by side in numerous Infernal attacks. His younger sister, Alice, grew up thinking Kora was their sister until she realised they don’t actually have a blood relation. Still, Kora sees Alice as her younger sibling, they’re that close.

“What are you doing here?” Matthew questions her when he’s close enough to not have to shout at her from the other end of the narrow walkway.

“Picking up a parcel Will sent from Ireland, and you?” she raises an auburn brow at him while waiting for an answer.

Matthew stuffs his hands further into his navy coat pockets, dark brown hair tousled lightly like he hadn’t bothered to brush it after rolling out of bed this morning. “I am here for business.” He answers vaguely with a mischievous grin.

Amusement plays on Kora’s lips as she bites down a laugh. “Since when do you have business to attend to, Matthew?”

“Just something I need to collect, that’s all.” Running a hand through his hair, scuffing it up even more than before. The blue-purple bags underneath his green eyes show Kora that he’s hardly sleeping again. She wants to ask if everything at home is well, but she can already guess his answer to that question. “I need some moreWolfsbane, actually. Lewis asked me to purchase some for him while I venture down here for mybusiness.” He adds on before she can question him further.

Lewis Chiswick is one of their friends who works closely with his father, Percy Chiswick, in his apothecary store. Percy is known for being a physician for all Marked kinds. Treating both medical and magical conditions. Lewis is usually the one who comes to the docks for the latest shipment of herbs, spices and minerals, but he does sometimes ask Matthew to retrieve his supplies for him if he’s deep in research with his father. Percy is also the leader of the Infirmary for the London Ascendancy-the main meeting place for the Seraphim kind.

Seraphim are supernatural creatures alike Mortals in features but with angelic blood and gifted abilities. Their angelic blood enhancing their healing powers, supernatural strength and quickened agility. Demonic forces are their main jurisdiction, keeping Infernals creatures from wreaking havoc on Earth. Each Seraphim is born with the distinct golden halo Mark splayed out on their neck.

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