Tabitha gazed out over the land. Darkness was descending, painting the valley in a palette of smudged grey-blues and faint iridescence. The navy silhouettes of ghostly trees breached an eerie fog that had rolled in with the twilight. Tabitha knew that this was no natural fog; its milky thickness and defined shape indicated the presence of magic, there to conceal all manner of Dark deeds. She felt her skin prickle and fingertips tingle anticipatively.
Her mother had warned her not to come. Sure, her powers were strong, but they were uncontrolled, and that made them corruptible. But for many weeks Tabitha’s prophetic dreams had shown her the nightmarish consequences of acquiescing to her mother’s pleas, and she was not prepared risk her future by reining herself in. She would go out in a blaze, be it of glory, or of her own destruction.
Creeping through the trees, Tabitha felt icy tendrils of vapour caress her face and wind around her limbs, chilling her to the bone. Her path ahead was claustrophobic and cloudy, a dense wall of fog bearing down upon her. But she urged herself onwards, determined to master her fear and uncertainty. After some time, the mists evanesced, revealing a large clearing embellished with floating candles. In the centre stood the man she sought: the Dark sorcerer Noch-ri. Eyes closed, he was dressed in a granite-coloured robe, unkempt silver beard resting on his chest. He muttered incantations beneath his breath, violet sparks erupting violently and intermittently from his hands. Tabitha approached stealthily, footsteps hushed by moss, heart in her mouth. Her destiny would be defined by this very moment.
Suddenly the hovering candles roared with pillars of flame. The sorcerer’s eyes snapped open, locking onto Tabitha’s with an intense stare.
“I knew you would come,” he whispered.
For a few moments Tabitha was silent, willing her pounding heart to calm. Then her face broke into a sly smile.
“It was never in doubt.”
The Dark warlock nodded and motioned for her to come closer.
“Let me show you the true depths of your power,” he urged, “Together, we will be unstoppable. Don’t hold back, set yourself free!”
Tabitha strode forward, indigo irises afire, and allowed her irrepressible magic to course through her veins, bursting from her fingertips in streaks of purple lightning. She raised her hands triumphantly causing amethyst flames to rain from the skies, igniting the skeletal trees. The ground shook and rumbled as she rose into the air on a throne of acrid black smoke, embracing her fiery chaos, her cataclysmic power.
This was going to be fun.
Emma H, age 26, 21/06/2017
Sue’s beautifully mysterious Twilight photo prompt this week prompted me to think of evil and magic… I rushed this piece out last night so it’s not my greatest work, but hopefully you’ve enjoyed it 🙂