Meeting Aggie

1.

Occasionally, I miss my father. For half my life, he stood as my guiding light, shaping me with his unwavering love. But fate, in its cruel grasp, snatched him away from me. He died protecting me from a group of rogue werewolves.

It was exceedingly rare for werewolves to be rogue. It was just an unfortunate accident—like me. My father was dead, but that didn't mean I tarnished everything he taught me about harnessing my powers.

"You have the powers of not only a witch and a fairy, but the god-tier powers of an angel. They're afraid of you because you're so powerful and weren't meant to be. Don't you ever forget that Aggie."

He was right. Deep down, I knew he was. The royals were afraid because of what Empress Iridessa created with my father—an all-too-powerful abomination.

I tended not to think about my mother's betrayal. At the very least, I tried not to. I spent most of my time among humans. Supernaturals were great at tailoring their appearance to look like them.

The gods bestowed upon us one power that transcended our differences: the gift of enchantment. It was an ability that we all shared in equal measure.

However, this unity was tempered by a universal law that bound us—the supernatural beings. We were forbidden from revealing our true selves to humans or causing them harm.

With purpose in my stride, I made my way to the library on my college campus. To my surprise, I discovered that certain accounts written by humans about supernaturals held an element of truth.

These mortal scribes had glimpsed fragments of our existence, though obscured by their limited understanding.

Guided by my father's teachings, I had been raised with the understanding that excelling in human education was of paramount importance.

It was a bridge that connected me to their world, fostering a semblance of normalcy amidst the extraordinary.

If I aspired to deepen my understanding of the supernatural realm, I knew that I must dedicate myself wholeheartedly to my studies.

The coveted destination for many of our kind was Yale, a revered institution where supernaturals congregated to expand their knowledge and cultivate their innate powers.

It was there, amidst the academic halls of Yale, that I would flourish, delving deeper into the mysteries of our existence and unlocking the full potential of my own abilities.

Upon reflection, I realized that my father had never imparted advice that failed to guide me. Seated in the library, I observed the bustling tables around me.

It had always been my peculiar gift to discern through the enchantments cast by fellow supernaturals, seeing beyond the veils they wove.

The angels, gods, and demi-gods formed an exclusive group, always seated together, excluding the rest of the species. They were the supernatural powerhouses who had their heads too far up their holy asses.

You would think the fairies would be exempt as they're allowed to breed with them, but that was only allowed in the supernatural realm.

To be honest, I never could bring myself to like the gods specifically anyway. All they ever did was mess everything up in every realm they created.

All the other light and dark species didn't mind mixing and sitting with each other. What made them so special when they looked just the same?

An unfamiliar face sat at my empty table, breaking my thought track. Tall, handsome, looked like a frat boy. His enchantment was strong, but for the sake of not revealing my powers, I let it be.

Based on his bright complexion, I figured he must be an angel or a god. I wasn't sure why he sat at my table, but I preferred having this one all to myself.

"I'm not keen on others sitting at my table when there's plenty of others." I hissed at the strange young man.

He propped his elbows on the table. "Your presence bothers me. I'm not sure why, but it does."

He rested his head on his hands, staring at me. How dare this heavily enchanted man bother me when I wasn't paying attention to him? I wasn't acknowledging his presence before he plunked down at my table.

"I don't understand what you mean," I said. "You came to my table. Do you understand English? I speak lots of other languages."

That was true. I could not only speak all the tongues in the human realm, but I could speak the languages of all other creatures as well.

He stared at me, trying to break my enchantment. "Who are you?"

My barrier was heavily shielded since I had angel blood in me, but he easily broke it down. As he was close to revealing me, he chose to stop.

This told me he was a god, and I would rather my existence not be known to the likes of them. Who knew what whirlwind of destruction they would bring upon me for my witch heritage.

With a nonchalant demeanor, he rose from his seat and moved to stand behind me. "Weird," he remarked, his words tinged with intrigue.

I studied him intently, his presence lingering close behind my ear as his scent mingled with mine.

Determined, I summoned my inner strength and broke through the veil of his enchantment. In that instant, the illusion crumbled, revealing the truth hidden beneath his facade.

Beneath the veneer of pearly skin and tousled dirty blond hair, his true form emerged—a resplendent tannish-gold complexion and lustrous platinum locks.

A golden wreath adorned his head, a regal embellishment that now appeared as a mere embellishment. With unwavering certainty, I finally knew his name, and the mystery unraveled before me.

"You smell funny." He narrowed his eyes. "Lights and... a dark?"

With a sudden surge of determination, I swiftly rose from my chair, recalling my father's words of caution. He told me that supernaturals mixed with both light and dark required vigilant observation. For if their powers were to surpass even those of the gods, swift and merciless death would follow.

My mother, driven by a fierce desire to shield me from the world's prying eyes, had kept my existence shrouded in secrecy. Barely anyone possessed knowledge of my true nature, not even the gods themselves.

"That's enough, Apollo." I snapped at him quietly.

I strode out of the library with a few questioning eyes boring holes in my back. I sprinted down the hallway, and swiftly made my way out of the building.

It would take me approximately six minutes to reach the campus exit, so I hurriedly made my way through the courtyard. Just as I neared the threshold, a firm grip seized my shoulder, forcefully pulling me into a concealed corner.

Instinctively, I prepared to invoke a spell, but before I could utter a single incantation, the figure pressed a hand against my mouth, muffling any potential outcry. A familiar scent wafted through the air, unmistakably belonging to Apollo.

"Relax," he whispered, his voice a soothing reassurance. "I have no intention of hurting you."

With deliberate care, he gingerly withdrew his hand, unveiling my mouth from its confines. Ten inches taller than me and broader at the shoulder, he easily trapped me against the wall with his arms.

I scoffed and pushed him off me. "My father told me not to trust your kind."

"Your father has the right idea but the wrong god, sweetheart."

If only my father were here now. If I told him that I had met a god or even had a conversation with one, he would have teleported us to a different realm.

"I am Apollo. You know of me, but not about me." He held out his hand toward me.

"Agatha." I sighed before shaking his hand.

"I like interesting people. Promise to be my friend, and I'll keep your secret."

"Fine. Whatever."