Chapter 8: The Attack
The sun hung low over Astoria, casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets as Everett and Evanora wandered back from their day’s adventures. The city, known for its enchantments and magical beauty, seemed serene at this hour. Witches and wizards bustled about, preparing for the evening while the magical lamps began to glow softly, filling the air with a warm ambiance.
But something felt off. Everett couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was a tension lingering in the air, something darker that hadn’t been there before. 
As they walked, Evanora glanced nervously around.
"Do you feel that, Everett? The air... it's like something bad is about to happen."
Everett frowned. He had been having too much fun to notice, but now that Evanora mentioned it, there was an uneasy feeling that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“Yeah, I feel it too. Maybe it’s just because the day’s winding down?”
Evanora shook her head, clutching her broomstick a little tighter.
“No, it’s something else.”
They walked in silence for a moment, their earlier laughter fading into a shared sense of dread. They had just turned onto a quieter street near the magical marketplace when a loud crash shattered the stillness. 
“What was that?!” Everett exclaimed, his heart jumping into his throat.
Evanora’s eyes widened.
“It came from over there!”
Without thinking, they both dashed toward the source of the sound, weaving through narrow alleyways until they arrived at a small, deserted square. The sight that greeted them was enough to make Evanora gasp in horror.
A young witch, dressed in the distinctive robes of an escort, was being attacked. Two dark-cloaked figures, both masked, were holding her by the arms, their wands pointed at her with malicious intent. The witch struggled in vain, fear plastered across her face.
“We got another one!” one of the cloaked men sneered.
“These young witches are almost too easy.”
The second attacker chuckled.
“Monroe’s going to love this. Her soul’s gonna fetch a high price.”
Everett’s stomach dropped as he took in the scene.
"What... what are they doing to her?"
Evanora grabbed his arm, her voice trembling. “Those men—they’re part of Monroe’s gang! I’ve heard rumors about them, but I never thought—”
“We need to help her!” Everett interrupted, his gaze locked on the terrified witch.
Before Evanora could respond, one of the attackers raised his wand toward the witch, a dark mist swirling at its tip.
“Say goodbye to your magic, little witch.”
“STOP!” Everett shouted, stepping forward before he even realized what he was doing.
Both attackers whipped around, their eyes narrowing beneath their masks.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” the first attacker sneered, lowering his wand slightly. “A tourist and a clumsy witch.”
Everett felt his heart racing, but he held his ground. “Let her go. Now.”
Evanora, shaking slightly, stepped forward, gripping her broomstick. “You heard him! You can’t just attack innocent witches!”
The second attacker laughed coldly. “We can do whatever we want. Monroe runs this place now. And you two should mind your own business if you don’t want to get hurt.”
The first attacker, clearly growing impatient, turned back to the captured witch, raising his wand again. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s finish her off.”
Evanora’s eyes widened in panic. “No!” she shouted, her instincts kicking in as she raised her own wand. A burst of magic shot from the tip, but instead of hitting the attackers, it ricocheted off a nearby lamppost, spiraling into the sky and harmlessly fizzling out.
“Oh no,” Evanora muttered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
The attackers laughed cruelly. “You can’t even cast a spell properly! This is almost too easy.”
Everett clenched his fists, feeling a surge of frustration. They couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. He glanced around, looking for something—anything—they could use to their advantage. His eyes landed on Evanora’s broomstick, which was leaning against a wall nearby, as if ready to spring into action.
“Evanora,” he whispered urgently, “your broomstick. Can we use it?”
Evanora blinked, then nodded, her face resolute despite the fear. “I… I’ll try.”
With a determined look, she grabbed her broomstick and, before Everett could stop her, leaped onto it, grabbing his hand to pull him up with her. 
The broom immediately shot into the air—too fast for Evanora to control. “Whoa, slow down!” she squeaked as they careened toward the attackers.
“Watch out!” Everett yelped as they narrowly avoided slamming into the side of a building.
But despite the broomstick’s erratic movement, it worked. The sudden chaos caught the attackers off guard, forcing them to release the young witch and jump out of the way just in time.
“You little pests!” one of the attackers snarled, stumbling to his feet.
Evanora and Everett wobbled precariously on the broomstick, but somehow, Evanora managed to guide it just enough to hover above the square.
“Now what?” Everett whispered, gripping the broomstick tightly to keep from falling off.
“We need to distract them long enough for her to escape,” Evanora said, her voice shaky but determined. “I’ll cast another spell.”
She raised her wand again, muttering the incantation under her breath. This time, the spell worked—sort of. A blast of bright light shot from the wand, temporarily blinding the attackers.
“Ah! What the—” the first attacker shouted, rubbing his eyes furiously.
“Run!” Everett yelled to the witch below.
The young witch didn’t need to be told twice. She scrambled to her feet and sprinted toward the alleyway, disappearing into the safety of the shadows.
But the attackers quickly recovered, and their attention snapped back to Evanora and Everett.
“You’ll pay for that!” the second attacker snarled, raising his wand menacingly.
“Evanora, get us out of here!” Everett shouted, his heart pounding in his chest.
Evanora nodded frantically and tried to steer the broomstick away, but the stubborn broom seemed to have other ideas. Instead of flying straight, it spun wildly in circles, throwing both of them off balance.
“Whoa! I can’t control it!” Evanora cried as they swerved dangerously close to a row of enchanted trees lining the square.
The attackers wasted no time. With a flick of their wands, they sent two powerful bolts of dark magic hurtling toward them.
“Hang on!” Everett shouted, grabbing Evanora’s waist just as the broomstick suddenly lurched upward, narrowly avoiding the dark spells that crackled ominously below them.
“We can’t stay in the air like this!” Evanora called over the wind rushing in her ears.
“You think?!” Everett shouted back, holding on for dear life as the broomstick dipped and soared erratically.
Finally, with a last burst of effort, Evanora managed to get the broomstick under some semblance of control. They zoomed toward the alleyway where the young witch had escaped, ducking into its narrow confines just as another bolt of magic exploded behind them.
Panting and shaken, they landed clumsily on the cobblestone ground, the broomstick sputtering to a stop. Evanora collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath.
“We made it,” she said, her voice trembling.
Everett nodded, though his heart was still racing. “But that was… those guys—what were they trying to do to her?”
Evanora swallowed hard. “They were trying to steal her soul. It’s what Monroe and his gang are after. They capture young witches, drain their magic, and sell their souls to the highest bidder.”
Everett stared at her in shock. “That’s horrible! We have to stop them.”
Evanora nodded, her eyes hardening with resolve. “We will. But we need to be careful. Monroe’s men are dangerous, and they won’t stop until they’ve taken what they want.”
As they sat in the dark alleyway, the gravity of the situation finally sank in. Astoria wasn’t just a magical wonderland for tourists—it was a place of real danger. And now, Everett and Evanora were right in the middle of it.
The attack was just the beginning.