Dragon Delivery Driver

The sun began to peek over the horizon, lighting up Eterna. The city quickly woke up to a new day. The towers—glass and steel monoliths reaching for the heavens—caught the first golden rays and turned them into rainbows dancing on the streets below.

The city began to pulse with the day's first movements. Shopfronts flickered to life, one by one, and their windows illuminated with the glow of magic artifacts and the latest goods of tech-wizardry.

The streets were filling with people, and above them, the sky lanes buzzed with the rush of aerial travelers: sorcerers dodging between hovering vehicles, griffins and pegasi joining the traffic, and the far roar of dragons came from above buildings. They flew even higher, scales shimmering like jewels against the morning sky.

The air, still cool from the night, carried the scent of awakening: fresh rain on ancient stone, the ozone tang of spellcraft, and the deep, earthy perfume of the Forest at the city's edge.

Away from the main streets, in the quieter alleys, you could find the kind of magic the city didn't put on billboards. There, deals were made quietly, with a handshake or a whispered word, trading in spells that weren't strictly legal.

Eterna was a city where every stone and shadow told a story, where every whisper of the wind through the alleyways might be a spell in disguise. It was a place where the past lingered, hand in hand with the present, shaping a future where anything seemed possible.

Here, in Eterna, the heart of magic had beaten strong, pumping the lifeblood of wonder through the world's veins. It was a place where the line between the magical and the mundane was blurred, where every new day boded something unexpected.

Here, the teen girl ran down the street, pursued by a crowd of the Widow's henchmen.

The chase was a sprint for survival. Catty's heart hammered against her ribs, a drumbeat urging her on. Eterna's streets were unfolding before the girl as she pushed her body to its limits. It was as if the city lived a different life, oblivious to her escape.

Her breath was ragged, tearing through her lungs like she was swallowing knives. The cool air of the early morning stung her face, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins burned hotter.

Catty heard how the distant din of Grand Bazaar was moving forward. The familiarity of these paths was her only advantage, a thin thread of hope the girl clung to as her muscles screamed in protest against the relentless pace.

The sun was rising, and the pursuers' hoverbikes cast long shadows that reached for Catty like claws.

Sweat slicked her skin, but the girl couldn't afford a moment's hesitation. Her senses were heightened to an unbearable degree, and her focus narrowed to the relentless pursuit at her heels. Catty didn't get a sniff of rainbow trees, fleeting and sweet. She didn't hear the birds' morning song, only the hoverbikes humming behind her.

The guards were approaching Catty.

Her world had shrunk to the moment when every step was freedom or capture.

Ahead, Grand Bazaar beckoned, a promise of sanctuary. The light of dawn covered the domes, and Catty was racing towards it.

The hoverbikes were close, too close; the whir of engines and the angry screams shouted into the crisp morning air.

At the last moment, Catty darted into the ornate towering gates, opened to a world away from the peril overtaking her.

The girl heard the roar of hoverbikes braking and a stream of damnation behind her.

Catty didn't look back. The bazaar enveloped her, its stalls a maze of color and bustle that welcomed her. The girl vanished into the crowd, her heart still racing, and the narrow escape was a wild, pulsing thrill that pushed her forward. In the shadows of the bazaar, amid the noise of haggling and the scent of magic spices, Catty found her breath, her steps steadying as she melded into life around her, a needle in a haystack they'd never find.

As the city stretched and sighed into the day, Grand Bazaar thrummed with life, a heart at the center of Eterna's vast body. The myriad stalls were hidden beneath the enchanted canvas, ready to unveil their wonders. The air buzzed with the languages of a hundred worlds, vendors calling out their wares. Here, one could trade for a potion to mend a broken heart or a device that promised to capture dreams. Nearby, a technomancer demonstrated a contraption that spun light into sound, drawing a crowd with its symphony of color. Here, a vendor unfurled a scroll glowing faintly with mystic runes; there, a mechanic tinkered with a levitating device, its gears whispering secrets of flight—all surrounded by the smells of magical brew and fresh meal from nearby taverns.

Rescue was still a long way off. Her pursuers, a band of the Widow's henchmen, roared into the bazaar's confines. They, dismounted now—their hoverbikes useless in the bazaar's lanes—pushed through the throng with the subtlety of mammoths in a pharmacist's shop.

"Here she is!" the goblin yelled, pointing at the girl.

Catty turned around at the scream and saw a cloak of invisibility draped casually over the nearest stall. It was marked with runes that shimmered in the dawn light. Without breaking stride, the girl snatched it, throwing it over her shoulders as she plunged into the throng. The cloak's magic was immediate. At the exact moment, Catty vanished from sight.

In the heart of Grand Bazaar, magic wasn't a trick; it was the lifeblood pulsing through the veins of Eterna. Wrapped up in a cloak stolen in desperation, Catty became part of that magic.

Invisible, she weaved through the crowd. She moved unseen but not unfelt; people parted in confusion as a stealth force brushed past, a whistle of air the only sign of her passage.

Catty froze when the guards got close. Their eyes darted through the sea of faces, hunting for the girl who'd disappeared into the morning. Their glances slid over the space where she stood like the girl was an empty place. Catty held her breath. She was a statue among the flowing river of people.

They were close, too damn close, but they passed her by being puzzled.

The girl sighed with relief only when the head of the huge goblin was far away in the crowd... But her triumph was short-lived.

"Hey, thief!" the cloak seller, a grizzled man with eyes as sharp as daggers, barked from behind his stall.

Catty turned, the cloak's magic flickering as her form began to materialize from the ether.

"You think you're slick, girl? Think you can just waltz out of here wearing my finest?" he bellowed, his voice cutting through the noise of the bazaar.

"Thought it was a free trial," Catty quipped.

The seller's laugh was dry, a crackle like the parchment. "Look around, darling. This ain't a library for magical artifacts. The only policy here is pay or play. And looks like you're short on coin."

He deactivated the cloak's enchantment with a swift motion borne of years dealing with the underbelly of magical commerce. The magical fabric became as ordinary as the rags used to clean the stalls at day's end, and Catty stood exposed, the mirage of her invisibility dissipating.

Having caught the seller's outcry, the henchmen turned on their heels, their confusion replaced by the excitement of their quarry close again.

"Consider yourself lucky," the seller growled, his eyes narrowing. "Now, off with you before I change my mind."

Catty, now fully visible, nodded. "Guess I'll have to find my magic, then."

And with that, she turned around and ran away, darting through the bazaar—the chase renewed, and the henchmen stumbled through the crowd, pushing aside gapers.

The cloak seller watched her go, a respect for her tenacity simmering beneath his gruff exterior. "Run fast, girl," he muttered, "for the bazaar's magic won't save you outside its walls."

Catty was racing through the bustling lanes. Grand Bazaar, alive with the morning hustle, was blurring past in a whirl of color and noise. The heavy steps of her pursuers echoed menacingly close behind her, and the noose was tightening again.

In the frenzied pace of her escape, Catty's eyes flicked over her shoulder to gauge the distance of her pursuers. The girl only saw the large mirror directly in her path when she collided with it with a thunderous crash.

It looked like slow-motion footage. The ornate, imposing mirror stood propped against a merchant's stall, its surface shimmering with a magical gleam. As the Widow's henchmen gained on her, Catty veered sharply towards the mirror. Her reflection raced towards her, a perfect twin in every way, and surprise etched on both faces. Somewhere behind this scene, the shopkeeper, an older woman, let out a horrified screech, spotting the impending disaster, "Don't you dare!" but it was too late. When the guards reached out to grab her, Catty collided with the mirror with a desperate, final lunge.

The impact was smashing. The mirror shattered into a hundred shimmering shards, each piece catching the light as they spun through the air. As the fragments dropped down, the magic contained within was unleashed, and each shard became a projector, casting off virtual Cattys.

The reflections scattered in all directions, each a perfect copy of her, running and weaving through the crowd. Each reflected an image of Catty, multiplying her presence into dozens of duplicates sprinting in every direction.

The henchmen halted, dumbfounded. Their prey multiplied exponentially in the blink of an eye.

"Grab her, grab any of her!" the goblin shouted, lunging at the nearest figure.

They lunged at the images, but each touch caused the illusions to burst into brief, brilliant light flares, leaving no trace but Catty's laughter.

"Which one?!"

"Over here! This one's gotta be her!"

Confusion reigned as the pursuers scrambled to discern real from illusion. Each shattered piece of mirror vanished upon their touch—they just grasped at air.

"Get the real one, you idiots!" the goblin barked, desperately trying to coordinate the madness. He grabbed what he thought was the real Catty, only to have her vanish, which left him spitting and cursing, "This magic crap is cheating!"

Amid the chaos, the real Catty slipped away. Her steps were light and swift when she ran past the distracted Widow's henchmen. The fragments of the broken mirror underfoot twinkled like stars, guiding the girl to safety.

She leaped over a fallen crate, slipping through the bewildered crowd gathered to watch the spectacle. Behind her, the pursuers' cries filled the air.

Catty's feet pounded the cobblestones of Grand Bazaar as she ran between stalls. The sounds of the marketplace were a blur against her racing heartbeat. She spotted a merchant's stall ahead, with carpets piled high, their colors vibrant even in the early morning light.

The girl skidded to a stop before the merchant, a grizzled old man with a tangled beard.

"Help me! They are going to kill me!" she gasped, her voice strained with desperation.

The merchant's gaze remained impassive, accustomed to the daily dramas. He motioned dismissively, signaling for her to keep moving. But when the girl turned, the sunlight flashed off her wrist, illuminating her bracelet.

"Wait!" he called out, his voice low and urgent. The old man grabbed her arm, pulling her behind a display of luxurious carpets, out of sight from the pursuing henchmen. His eyes fixed on the bracelet, and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"That...where did you get that?"

Catty, still catching her breath, was puzzled but sensed an opportunity.

"It's all I have left. Please, I need help!"

The merchant studied her for a moment longer, then made up his mind. He pulled one of the carpets from the stack and laid it flat on the ground. It was small and shabby and seemed superfluous among all the splendor.

"This will carry you where you need to go," he said, his voice a mixture of awe and homage.

"How do I make it fly?" Catty asked, stepping onto the carpet.

"You should know!" he pointed at her bracelet, a smirk curling at the edges of his mouth.

Catty glanced down at her bracelet, confusion etched across her face. But as her feet settled on the carpet, the bracelet ignited with a soft, pulsing glow. The woven fibers beneath her began to stir, a gentle hum filling the air.

"Need a lift? Just think of where you need to be," the girl heard a familiar voice in her head.

Catty gasped. Then she thought, more in hope than certainty.

"Let's fly!"

The carpet jerked beneath her, then smoothly ascended, soaring up and over the stalls and the heads of bewildered onlookers. Catty looked down in amazement, the bazaar shrinking beneath her.

"You owe me a tale!" the merchant shouted after her, his voice mixing with the laughter of a man who'd just witnessed the improbable.

"Thank you!" the girl called back, her voice carried away by the wind as she flew above the stalls towards the bazaar's end.

The Widow's henchmen arrived moments later, confusion written across their faces as they surveyed the scene.

"Where'd she go?" the goblin barked, scanning the skies incredulously.

Returning to his carpets, the merchant only shrugged, a grin hidden beneath his thick beard.

"Magic's in the air, boys. Better luck next time," he muttered, turning back to his customers as if the day's excitement was just another part of the bazaar's charm.

The wind whipped Catty's hair, her eyes watered, but a grin split her face. Freedom, even fleeting, felt better than any magic.

When the girl flew beyond the bazaar's boundaries, the crowd's noise fell away, replaced by the rush of air and the beating of her heart. Below, the chaos of her pursuit became a distant memory, scattered like the clouds around her.

The carpet wove through the spires and rooftops, a rogue comet under the morning light. But freedom was a tricky beast, as fleeting as it was sweet. Her flight was not unnoticed.

The chase moved to the skies, and Catty's journey continued—her pursuers not far behind, and their determination was as boundless as the city they raced through.

The escape took a perilous turn as the flying carpet zipped into Eterna's air traffic. Above, below, and all around her, the sky was cluttered with an array of flying cars and magical creatures. Hovercars honked and veered off course as the girl swooped through their lanes, their drivers shaking fists and shouting curses drowned out by the roar of engines and the whoosh of wings. Catty ducked as a low-flying wyvern nearly clipped her with its spiked tail, the creature letting out an indignant squawk.

Now, the wind sheared against her with force in the canyons formed by soaring buildings. Reflections of the girl on the carpet danced in the mirrored facades, multiplying her image into a kaleidoscope of movement.

Ducking and weaving through the traffic, Catty could feel the tug of magic on her heels. The girl glanced back, and her breath caught in her throat. The chase didn't let up—the carpet wasn't fast enough. The henchmen were catching up with her again. They were gaining speed, their eyes fixed on Catty with grim determination.

"Move it, pixie junk!" the goblin bellowed at a cluster of fairies. They scattered with pitched titters, but not before dusting the goblin's face with a shower of glitter, which made him sputter and nearly lose control.

"Outta my way!" the goblin roared.

Catty seized the moment and slipped through a flock of levitating taxis that honked and flashed their lights. She saw one of her pursuers misjudged a sharp turn and collided with a flying delivery truck. It was covered in runes that glowed upon impact and unleashed a burst of boxes and bins, covering the hoverbike and sending its rider tumbling into the dive.

When Catty soared higher, a swarm of imps erupted from the shadows of the towering buildings. Their red eyes gleamed with malice.

The imps swarmed around the girl, their sharp claws tearing the fabric of her magical carpet. The creatures attempted to pull at her clothes, obscuring her vision. Each touch tugged at her control, their weight a burden Catty couldn't shake off.

"Back off, you little beasts!" she shouted, trying to swat them away. But each motion made the carpet dip and weave unpredictably, her path becoming more erratic by the second.

Laughing manically, the imps darted in and out of her reach, enjoying the chaos they wrought. The carpet trembled with their touch, the flight disrupted by their dark magic. Struggling to maintain altitude, Catty found herself driven towards the gaping tunnel entrance beneath the city's grand archway.

"Hey, how are you?" Eldric's voice sounded in her head again.

"I'm fine!"

"I need to tell you something..."

"What's happened?"

"Just don't be afraid."

"Okay, spit it out!"

"I can't stop!"

"What?!."

"Hold on tight. Let's get out!"

"You kidding?"

"No. Looks like we've been lured into a trap."

"No choice," Catty breathed, bracing herself as she shot into the tunnel. The entrance loomed like a gaping maw, and her heart sank.

The sudden darkness swallowed the girl whole. The cool dampness of the tunnel airbrushed the skin, and the imps, reluctant to leave the open skies and follow her, flew away with shrieks.

Her eyes adjusted slowly to the shadowy confines, the sounds of the city muffled by the thick stone. The light at the tunnel's end was too far, too faint, and her pursuers were surely not far behind.

Catty leaned forward, urging the carpet to give whatever it had left. The walls streaked by in a blur, the drone of the outside world a distant memory against the pounding of her heart.

"Just a little more," she whispered to the carpet, to herself, to anyone who'd listen.

The tunnel spat Catty out onto the muddy pavement of Hexed Borough. The girl flew off the carpet and somersaulted several times before she lay sprawled in the middle of a dark alley, listening to the rumble of hoverbikes in the tunnel. Her whole body was broken and painful, and Catty struggled to her knees.

Suddenly, the door to the house behind her opened, and the girl felt someone pick her up and carry her into the house.

The door closed when the Widow's henchmen rushed out of the tunnel.