A sort of prequel I wrote to Meagan's story about a character that will make an appearance in either chapter four or five (speaking of, I will upload those soon). This is meant to be able to be read as a stand-alone, so if you haven't read The Fire's Heart, it should still make sense (though I still beg you to read it!). Thanks for reading, and please comment/review.

 She didn’t like how he looked at her.
               The cold, penetrating glare the sheriff pierced her with seemed to go just a little too far down. She hoped he couldn’t read her mind. That was a rarer gift nowadays, though, so she doubted it. As for essence- she was absolutely certain she and Esilanna were the only people alive who could do that. Still… she wasn’t sure what message his eyes conveyed, but it wasn’t one of friendliness and trust.
               “Carmen,” he said, slowly.
               “Yes.” She nodded.
               “What’s your last name?”
               “I don’t have one.”
               “Everyone has a last name.”
               A smile touched Carmen’s lips. “I beg to differ, sir.”
               “Do you know why you’re here?”
               “Because I didn’t fill out the green card with a last name?”
               “No. You’re here because your application has been approved. As of now, you’re an officer in Regnum’s police force. Congratulations.” He tossed a plastic placard across the desk. Carmen picked it up, noticing her picture and information clearly printed. “That’s your I.D. Figured we might as well give it to you now instead of later.”
               “Understood.” Carmen slipped it into her breast pocket. “Is there anything else?”
               “Here’s your uniform. Before you take it, though, you need to understand the two most important things of our philosophy here in Regnum’s police force: firstly, you obey all orders, no matter how much you disagree.”
               “I wasn’t aware of signing up for the army,” Carmen said.
               The sheriff glared. “You can always opt out. Secondly, all perpetrators are punished. Justice is harsh and swift, no matter how sorry you are. This applies to both criminals… and our officers. Now.” He handed her a neatly-folded pile of clothing. “I expect you to report tomorrow at seven in the morning. I know it’s an hour early, but you’ll need to get acquainted with the station and your tasks.”
               Carmen almost had half a mind to point out she was already well-acquainted, having spent a nice amount there on her very first day in Regnum. She didn’t enjoy being accidentally arrested for “illegally” entering the country. She was sure the sheriff didn’t enjoy the mar the incident brought his record, either, so she didn’t bring it up.
               “That is all,” the sheriff sighed. “You’re dismissed.”
               “One more thing, sir,” Carmen said, and pulled a gold sheriff’s star out of her pocket. “Do you recognize this? It’s Regnum’s.” Finding the identity of the star's owner was one of the main reasons she joined the force in the first place.
               “It's dated oddly… must be a typo, this date is for fifteen years in the future,” he muttered. “No, I’m sorry, I don't know whose it is. Where did you find this?”
               “Just lying around,” Carmen fibbed, and pulled it back. What was she supposed to say? The truth?
               A police officer.
               The words brought images of selflessness, bravery, and honor to mind. After all, it was an officer who saved Carmen’s life. Naturally, she associated good things with what she thought was one of the most noble professions out there.
               It turns out that being an officer really means being bored.
               Her first assignment was “keep the peace” in the public square. There wasn’t really anything to do but stand there with her hand on her black police stick, hoping the gloves she bought would conceal the gray tinges of prosthetic. Occasionally, she’d glare warningly at would-be pickpockets and shoplifters. The real reason she’d been given the job was because it was virtually impossible for her to screw it up. After all, nothing really happened in the public square save for some pickpocketing, and Capt. Joe was on the other side of the square, so if she really needed any help, he was there.
               Around lunch, she bought a sandwich from a local vendor and sat down near the steps of the Meeting Hall, surveying the crowd. She couldn’t see Joe over the sea of people in front of her, but she figured he was still where she’d last seen him. The sergeant had also come over a couple yards to her left, pretending like he wasn’t there to check up on how she was doing. Carmen winked at him to show she was aware of exactly why he was there, and sighed. Esilanna was probably enjoying herself a lot more than she was right now, no doubt whipping up difficult spells under Flamel’s watch.
               A gunshot, then a scream pierced the square, and suddenly everyone was panicking.
               Carmen stood, threw her sandwich in the general direction of the sergeant. The roiling mass of people was now a fervent wave trying to escape to… anywhere. She pulled her pistol out of her holster, faced it straight up at the sky, and pulled the trigger.
               The second gunshot brought everyone’s attention to her. “Nobody move!” she ordered. She was aware of the sergeant watching her, assessing her every move, but she didn’t care. Let him watch. She sprinted towards the direction of the first shot, the crowd parting for her. In a couple of seconds, she reached Capt. Joe, who was kneeling down and clutching his arm. “What happened?”
               “I got bloody shot!” he growled.
               “Where’d he go?”
               Joe raised one hand, and Carmen heard the click of a revolver behind her. Slowly she turned to see a masked man pointing his weapon at her. Carmen smirked. Ah, here it was. The thrill of danger, and the unexpected- yet another reason she’d joined the police force.
               “Good morning,” Carmen greeted, her own gun lowered. She knew if she raised it now, she’d have a bullet through her head before she could do the same to the… terrorist? She assumed so. If that was the case, she needed to get him out of the square before he did anything to everyone else. Or what if he’d planted a bomb?
Focus. Just… focus. He’s nothing special- he has the essence of a mortal. That’s fine- if it comes down to hand-to-hand, or a sorcerer’s duel, I win, but he has the gun pointed at me.
               The masked man pulled his gun back, and ran down the alley.
               “Carmen, don’t follow him!” the sergeant shouted. “Get everyone out of the square! Joe, get on his trail!”
               “Joe’s wounded,” Carmen replied.
               “Then I’ll follow. Stay here.”
               “Yeah, no.” She dashed after. Carmen couldn’t see the terrorist, but she could still feel his essence. Granted, it was a bit difficult to isolate it since there were hundreds of other essences all around, but she managed to hone in. She caught up, too, her training kicking in as she ran faster than she knew anyone else in the force could.
               She cornered him in an alley. “Hey, you can’t go panic people like that!” she reprimand. “What’d you do, plant a bomb?”
               The terrorist turned. “I don’t have to tell you what I did. You think that uniform makes you a hero? You officers make me sick.”
Anarchist or just plain criminal? No idea at this point.
               “All I did was shoot the officer,” he continued.
Doubt it.
               “And now I’ll go down with another.”
Oh, suicide bomber. Now I get it.
               Carmen realized exactly where they were- outside the palace. An explosion right now would just breach the wall, a pointless endeavor.  He’d die to put a hole in a stone wall? Unless… he must be working with a group, or at least another accomplice. But why an explosion? It’s so… noticeable. Guards will swarm over here any minute now.
               She aimed the pistol.
               “Shoot now and the explosion will go off,” he laughed. “My blood’s laced with the chemicals; a bullet will be just the spark it needs.”
He wanted to be shot… The pieces aren’t connecting.
               “Let the Fire burn!” he cried.
               “The only thing that’s going to burn are your wrists,” Carmen retorted, “because you’ve got handcuffs rubbing on them.”
               “I’d like to see you get some on me,” he retorted.
               “Is that a challenge?”
               “Do you want it to be?”
               Footsteps coming down the alley. That wasn’t good. If the terrorist thought more people were coming, he might shoot himself. Or, the sergeant would be stupid enough to shoot him.
               “Okay, this has been fun and all, but I’ve got to get back to work.” Carmen whispered the word of immobility, and the terrorist froze. She pulled the handcuffs and snapped them around his wrist. “There. Challenge met.”
               “I can still-“
               “No, you can’t.” She whispered another word, and he shrieked in pain. “There, I cleansed your blood. Safe and sound.”
               “Most officers can’t use magic,” he growled.
               “I can. And that’s not all I can do.”
               “Oh, I know exactly what you can do,” he smirked. “It’s been a while, Catty.” Then his eyes changed, the color turning to brown, and he frowned. “Officer, would you explain the meaning of this? Why am I in handcuffs?”
The Fire again… Esilanna will want to know about it.
               The sergeant reached her. “WHAT THE HECK DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING? YOU DISOBEYED A DIRECT ORDER!!”
               Carmen shrugged. “I did.”
               “WHY?”
               “I just figured you weren’t competent enough to handle him.” She tossed her gun to the sergeant. “Sometimes, you don’t pull the trigger on these, you know.” Carmen turned to the terrorist. “I bet you know nothing now, but what happened? What were you going to do?”
               The man furrowed his brow in thought, and replied, “I don’t know. One moment I was home in bed, and the next, I was… trying to blow up the palace wall. All I wanted to do was get close enough to touch a guard, and then the guard would touch the queen… and the Fire would spread.”
               “The Fire? Is that a disease?” the sergeant asked, taking a step back.
               “I believe it’s a type of curse,” Carmen replied. “Perhaps it is transferable by touch… no, prolonged touch.”
               “What makes you so sure?”
               “His blood burned. Mine doesn’t.”
               “I’ll take him to the station. YOU can follow,” the sergeant said, “and then you’ll see the sheriff. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the first officer fired on their first day.”
               “Do you know why you’re here?”
               “Yes.” Carmen sighed. “Am I fired?”
               “I recall telling you to follow orders at all costs. Do you remember that?”
               Carmen shrugged. “I have selective memory.”
               “It would be best to stop with the sass now that your job is on the line,” the sheriff said, tapping his fingers on the desk. “You are brash, risky, arguably suicidal- according to the sergeant, anyway- and absolutely smart-mouthed.”
               Carmen nodded. “True, true, and true.”
               “But you are also friends with the new apprentice to the Chief Sorcerer, and a personal favorite to Chief Sorcerer Flamel himself on top of that. The recommendations he gave us are outstanding- supposedly, you have amazing marksmanship. On top of that, you apparently can use magic- according to Mr. Flamel, a great amount as well- and somehow knew exactly how to track that man even though he’d left your sight and there was no discernible trail. You were able to quickly and efficiently capture him without any harm to him or surrounding areas.”
The last part was more luck than anything else… but the sheriff doesn’t need to know that.
               “Therefore,” the sheriff continued, “you show quite a bit of talent. Enough to let me overlook this little… incident, shall we say? Yes, incident. Tomorrow, report at eight, and listen for once.”
               “Yes, sir.” Carmen nodded. “One last thing… do you have any records on the Hating Fire?”
               “The what?”
               “Nothing, sir.”
               "That is all, Carmen. You may go."
               "Thank you, sir."
               "One last thing, Carmen. Don't tell anyone I said this, especially the sergeant, but..." The sheriff grinned. "He fancies you."
               Carmen blushed scarlet and babbled excuses as she left the door. Behind her, the sheriff laughed.


One of these days, I'll learn to properly end short stories. Until then, though... A special thanks to Mr. Zed, who read this on Quotev.com before I uploaded it onto Vizzed.

zanderlex : Thank you very much! Writing is my passion.

Dragonlord Stephi : Have you ever published any of your stories into a physical book? Somebody who writes as much as you should have at least 6 to 8 books by now, or at least a couple of official e-books.

zanderlex : Hah hah! It is my dream to get published, actually. I'm thinking about it, but I'm still a teenager, so I don't know if anyone will actually buy my manuscripts...