"I don't believe I've met your friend, John," Gwen said conversationally as she gathered shimmering motes of wild magic around her.
"How remiss of me," Faust replied, his own dark magic burning around his wand. "Allow me to introduce my mentor, Mephistopheles of the Outer Darkness. Mephistopheles, Gwenivar Silveroak, lately famed the White Witch of Glimmerbrook."
"Guardian," the daemon's sepulchral voice intoned. "You will fall this day."
"If that is my Fate," Gwen smiled.
"How does it feel, to be blind to Destiny, Gwen?" Faust smiled.
"How blind am I really?" Gwen countered. "I am here, after all."
"I have Claudette to thank for that, no doubt," Faust snarled. "I had such high hopes for her. She was to have stood at my right hand."
"That wasn't her Fate," Gwen smiled.
"Fate!" Faust cursed. "I've blocked your Sight and still you prattle about Fate!"
"You have improved, John," Gwen agreed, "but you still don't understand."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Etta running toward them.
She smiled.
"No! It's you who doesn't understand," Faust roared. "You've never understood. I hold the Power of the Outer Darkness! You will fall and then the Power of the Moonwood will be mine! The Sages will fall. The Realm of Magic itself will crumble and I will stand on the ashes... the greatest magus alive!"
"Gwen!" Etta gasped.
"Watch, Claudette, my treacherous daughter," Faust growled. "Watch the White Witch fall before me."
Gwen struggled to bite back a cry, as the pain of Faust's magic burned through her.
Slamming into the cold, hard ground was almost a blessed relief.
So, she thought, this is my Fate.
My choice.
"Gwen!" Etta cried again.
Faust spat a Word.
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Author's Note: There will be another chapter tomorrow (Thursday, 12/14) and Friday (12/15)
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