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The forest had swallowed the evening sun, casting elongated shadows on the pine needles strewn ground. It was the perfect hideout—an old ruin, its stones cracked and covered in ivy. The air buzzed with magic, thick and potent.
With me were Evie, Freya, Professor Rowan Elderwood, and Brad for the final showdown with Ingrid and her sister, The Archmage.
This was it. The moment for which we’d been preparing. My palms were slick with sweat, and my heart pounded in my chest. But I couldn’t let fear take over. Not now. I had to be strong, for my parents, for my friends, for all of Emberwick Crossing. The fate of our magical community rested on what happened here tonight.
I tucked a blue-streaked lock behind my ear. “Freya, Rowan, thanks for joining our little army.”
Freya adjusted her preppy outfit. “Glad to help if I can. I don’t have any battle skills, but I can tend to anyone wounded.”
Professor Elderwood just nodded, his gray eyes inspecting the tree line as if deciphering an invisible code.
Freya’s healing abilities could be crucial, and Rowan’s wind manipulation might give us an edge. But a nagging voice in the back of my mind wondered if it would be enough. We were up against two of the most powerful witches in Emberwick Crossing. The odds weren’t exactly in our favor.
An eerie chill crept over us as we approached the ancient redwood, a gnarled giant that seemed to pulse with dark power. The tree was adorned with intricate carvings of arcane symbols and mystical spells, each one seeming to vibrate with energy.
Standing next to the tree were The Archmage and Ingrid Nightspire, their presence adding to the ominous atmosphere. As the wind whipped through the forest, The Archmage’s long, black hair swirled around her like a nest of serpents.
These were the witches responsible for so much pain and suffering. The ones who’d orchestrated my parents’ death. Anger bubbled up inside me, hot and fierce. I wanted to lash out, to unleash every spell I knew upon them. But I held back. Losing control now would be disastrous.
“Ah, Sage Holland and her little band of rebels have arrived,” The Archmage said, her tone smooth, cold.
Ingrid smirked beside her. “And you’ve brought friends.”
Their arrogance made my blood boil. Did they really think we were just some ragtag group of misfits?
But what if we’d overlooked something? What if their powers were stronger than we’d anticipated?
“Good grief, you’re annoying,” I said, clenching my jaw.
“Your bravado is misplaced.” Ingrid scoffed with flippant indifference, eyeing us like we were nothing more than gnats.
Her dismissive attitude only fueled my resolve. I’d show her just how misplaced her own confidence was!
“Hello, Ingrid.” Brad stepped forward with a confidence that made my heart skip.
With Brad beside me, it gave me a burst of courage. We’d been through so much together, and his love meant everything to me. But a flicker of fear pinched my chest. What if something happened to him? To any of us? The thought of losing someone I cared about was almost paralyzing.
I lifted my chin. “You won’t get away with whatever twisted plan you’ve got.”
The Archmage laughed, a sound devoid of any genuine amusement. “My twisted plans are simple. With the Echoing Locket, I will bend every magical being to my will. Then I shall become the ultimate authority in Emberwick Crossing. “
“Over my dead body,” I said.
“Very well,” Ingrid said, almost bored.
The battle erupted with a roar. Spells and curses collided in mid-air, bursts of multicolored energy crackling like fireworks. The ground trembled beneath us, the atmosphere charged with magic.
Brad stood beside me, his hands shaping the air as he conjured barriers out of thin air. “Sage, focus on countering! I’ll handle defense!”
Freya was a whirlwind of motion, darting between us and healing wounds as quickly as they formed.
Ingrid smirked from the shadows, her hands weaving complex sigils to summon a horde of shadow beasts.
A ball of dark energy hurtled toward Evie and Freya, only to be deflected by one of Brad’s barriers.
Ingrid, her eyes glowing with malevolence, hurled fireballs at the tree line, setting the forest ablaze as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Evie grinned, her fingers twitching. “Time to cuteify some baddies!” She flicked her wrist, transforming an attacking shadow beast conjured by The Archmage into a bewildered, fluffy dog.
Professor Elderwood stood a few paces away, wind swirling around him as if he were the calm within the storm. “Your tactics are futile,” he declared, hurling gusts at The Archmage.
The dark witch laughed, flicking a hand to dispel his wind effortlessly. “You call that a spell? Pathetic.” She raised her hands, and dark tendrils snaked from her fingers towards the professor.
Holy hell, this was not going according to plan. I’d hoped for a dramatic showdown, but this felt more like a magical food fight gone wrong.
Cackling wickedly, Ingrid summoned thorny vines from the forest floor, ensnaring unwary combatants as the last rays of sunlight faded.
I groaned. Now we had evil plants to deal with. As if battling two power-hungry witches wasn’t enough of a green thumb challenge.
Professor Rowan’s expression hardened as he foresaw the attack just in time to counter with his own elemental magic. “You’ll never take Emberwick Crossing!”
I had to admire the professor’s gusto.
Drawing on every fiber of my being, a powerful binding spell shimmered around The Archmage momentarily before she shattered it with a mere flick of her wrist.
Damn!
Ingrid laughed coldly, summoning more shadowy creatures with each movement of her hand.
“Is that all you’ve got?” The Archmage jeered.
Brad’s voice was urgent beside me. “We need to combine our strengths! Now!”
My boyfriend, ever the problem-solver. If only we could build a magical fortress to keep these villains out.
With a sinister grin, Ingrid conjured a swarm of shadowy bats, sending them to harass us.
Oh joy, flying rodents of doom.
Freya ducked as a bat swooped over her head, stepping closer to me. “Sage, try your spell creation—something new.”
Something new? Sure, let me just pull a never-before-seen spell out of my witchy hat. No pressure.
Evie threw another potion. “And make it sparkle!”
I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Evie to request glitter in the middle of a magical showdown.
Freya’s hands glowed with protective energy as she shielded our group from incoming attacks.
My thoughts raced through options. Then it hit me—an amalgamation spell combining our unique powers might do the trick. Chanting an incantation under my breath, symbols were drawn in the air.
Ingrid’s eyes blazed with malice as she hurled bolts of dark energy at our defensive line.
Brad’s architecture manipulation melded seamlessly with my creation power. A glowing pattern emerged between us—a swirling vortex pulling in unrestrained magical energy from everyone involved.
Evie sang between potion throws, her movements fluid and unpredictable as she dodged enemy spells.
“Keep it steady!” Professor Elderwood ordered and paused his attacks long enough to lend wind energy to the vortex.
Focusing intently, my hands wove intricate patterns to maintain the spell’s stability.
The Archmage’s smug expression faltered for a fraction of a second before she unleashed another barrage of dark magic at us. The vortex absorbed it like fuel for our combined spell.
“Now!” We released the energy we had harnessed in one explosive burst aimed directly at The Archmage.
The impact knocked her back several feet, staggering but not defeated. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. The dark witch began chanting again, this time more intensely.
Freya’s hands glowed with healing magic as she tended to our wounds
“Fall back!” the professor commanded.
Evie tossed a smoke bomb, creating a thick cloud of magical mist to cover our retreat.
Ingrid circled the battlefield, her eyes scanning for weaknesses in our defenses.
Agatha appeared out of nowhere—a blur of shadow and fur—and leaped at The Archmage’s face, claws extended. The sudden distraction was enough for us to regroup momentarily.
Brad wiped sweat off his brow and turned to me. “This won’t hold forever.”
Breathlessly nodding, my eyes remained fixed on Agatha as she harassed The Archmage like an avenging feline fury. “But it bought us time.”
Evie readied another smoke bomb potion. Then Evie stepped forward. “Look out!” she yelled.
A tendril of shadow whipped toward me. It splintered against my hastily conjured barrier, showering me with sparks.
“Nice try.” I launched a counterattack with a flick of my wrist.
“Your efforts are futile,” The Archmage taunted, her voice never losing its chilling composure. She parried my spell effortlessly, her own magic dark and suffocating.
“Brad, now!” I called.
My boyfriend sprang forward, his hands weaving a complex pattern. The earth responded, roots and vines rising to bind The Archmage’s ankles.
“Pitiful.” Ingrid sneered, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of concern as she watched her sister struggle against the living restraints.
“Never underestimate a builder warlock.” Brad was straining while he reinforced the binding spell.
“Professor, a little help, if you please?” I asked, dodging another volley of curses from Ingrid.
“Quite right, Sage, quite right.” Elderwood unleashed a fresh rush of wind that turned the dark witch’s spells awry.
“Evie, Brad—cover him!” I shouted over the roar of magic clashing.
“Got it!” they both cried in unison.
Freya’s healing aura pulsed around us, knitting together minor cuts and bruises.
“Freya, keep it up!” Gasping, I felt the abrasion on my arm seal under her healing power. “We can’t let them break us.”
“No way,” Freya replied, her hands aglow with a soft, verdant light that wove between us like threads of life itself.
Professor Elderwood’s wind magic whirled around us, creating a protective barrier of swirling leaves and branches.
“Evie, can you—” But I didn’t have to finish the sentence.
My best friend was already lobbing another potion, this one bursting into blinding brilliance upon impact with Ingrid and The Archmage.
“Ha! Take that!” Evie cheered, her voice sounding with infectious bravado.
The witch sisters hurled dark spells at our group, their malevolent energy crackling through the twilight.
“Agatha, shadow strike now!” The command barked from my lips.
My familiar leapt from the darkness, claws extended towards our foes with supernatural precision. Agatha’s shadowy form slashed across Ingrid and The Archmage, leaving them reeling and disoriented.
“Troublesome creatures,” Ingrid hissed, swatting at Agatha with a spell that turned to smoke upon contact.
Agatha snorted derisively. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Brad’s builder magic conjured massive roots from the forest floor, ensnaring the evil witches’ feet.
Ingrid cackled maniacally, her hands glowing with dark magic as she prepared to strike again.
“Focus, everyone!” Professor Elderwood’s voice was strained. The warlock maneuvered the winds in a protective circle around us.
Ingrid’s dark magic crackled, threatening to break through our defenses. I gritted my teeth, searching for a solution.
“Any bright ideas, Sage?” Evie called out, fumbling with another potion vial.
I wracked my brain. “Working on it! Kinda hard to think with all this evil energy flying around.”
“Perhaps a dash of chaos is in order,” Agatha purred, her tail swishing mischievously.
“Pandemonium? We’ve got plenty already,” Brad grunted, straining to maintain his root barrier.
Professor Elderwood’s voice cut through the din. “Focus, Miss Holland! Your unconventional spell craft may be our only hope.”
I nodded, drawing a deep breath. “Right. Unconventional. That’s me in a nutshell.”
“Less nutshell, more action!” Freya urged, her healing magic faltering under the onslaught.
The Archmage Nightspire’s laughter echoed across the battlefield. “Your pitiful resistance only delays the inevitable!”
“Inevitable?” I scoffed. “The only thing inevitable here is your bad hair day!”
Ingrid snarled, hurling another volley of dark energy. “Insolent witch! We’ll crush you and your pathetic friends!”
“Ooh, touched a nerve, did we?” Agatha taunted, melting into the shadows.
Brad’s voice strained with effort. “Sage, whatever you’re planning, do it fast! These roots won’t hold forever!”
I closed my eyes, reaching deep within myself. The familiar tingle of magic coursed through my veins, building to a crescendo.
“Evie!” I called out, “I need your most ridiculous potion. The weirder, the better!”
My best friend’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “One bottle of pure chaos, coming right up!”
As Evie concocted her brew, I began to weave an intricate pattern in the air, my fingers trailing sparks of magic.
“What are you doing?” Freya asked, her brow furrowed in concentration as she maintained her healing aura.
“Something stupid,” I admitted. “But hey, it might just work!”
Professor Elderwood’s wind barrier faltered, and his voice strained, “Whatever you’re planning, Miss Holland, I suggest you hurry!”
The Archmage’s voice dripped with contempt. “Your pitiful tricks cannot save you now!”
“Save the villainous monologue for your memoirs, sister dear,” Ingrid hissed. “Let’s finish this!”
As the evil witches prepared another assault, Evie tossed me a swirling, multicolored vial. “Here’s your bubbly cocktail!”
I caught the potion and wove it into my spell, feeling the conflicting energies merge and twist.
“Brace yourselves!” I shouted, unleashing the spell with a burst of wild magic.
The air crackled with energy as my unconventional creation took form. A swirling vortex of color and light erupted between us and our foes, pulsing with chaotic power.
Ingrid recoiled, her face a mask of confusion. “What manner of trickery is this?”
The Archmage’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever it is, destroy it!”
But as the dark witches launched their attacks, the vortex absorbed and twisted their magic, sending it ricocheting in unpredictable directions.
“Ha!” Agatha cackled, materializing beside me. “Now that’s what I call a spell!”
Brad whooped with delight. “Sage, you’re a genius!”
“An unpredictable genius,” Freya added, a hint of worry in her voice.
Professor Elderwood studied the swirling magic with fascination. “Remarkable. Utterly reckless, but remarkable, nonetheless.”
Evie bounced on her toes, clapping her hands. “It’s like a magical disco ball of doom!”
As the vortex grew, it began to affect our surroundings. Trees bent at impossible angles, rocks floated in midair, and the very ground beneath our feet seemed to ripple and shift.
“Uh, Sage?” Brad called out, his voice tinged with concern. “You can control this thing, right?”
I bit my lip, concentrating on maintaining the spell. “Um, yeah...”
Ingrid and The Archmage struggled against the chaotic energy, their own magic turning against them in unpredictable ways.
“This is impossible!” The Archmage roared, her carefully preserved spells unraveling before her eyes.
Ingrid’s precognition seemed to be going haywire, her eyes darting wildly as she saw a thousand possible futures at once. “Make it stop!”
“Sorry, no refunds on karma,” I said, channeling more energy into the vortex.
Freya’s healing magic pulsed erratically, causing flowers to sprout from the cracks in the ground. “Sage, I think we might be overdoing it a bit!”
“Nonsense!” Evie cackled, tossing more potions into the fray. “Let’s see what happens when I add a little extra zing!”
As her concoctions mixed with the chaotic energy, the vortex began to spin faster, pulling everything towards its center.
“Miss Black!” Professor Elderwood admonished, his wind magic struggling against the pull. “This is not the time for experimentation!”
“Au contraire, Professor,” Agatha purred, her shadowy form stretching and twisting in the chaos.
Brad grunted, using his construction magic to anchor us to the ground. “Maybe we should dial it back a notch?”
I shook my head, my hair whipping wildly in the magical winds. “No way!”
Indeed, Ingrid and The Archmage were being drawn inexorably towards the center of the vortex, their powers useless against its pull.
“This cannot be!” The Archmage wailed, her carefully laid plans crumbling around her.
Ingrid’s voice was shrill with panic. “Sister, do something!”
As they struggled, I felt a surge of triumph. We were winning! But then I noticed the trees around us starting to uproot, and the sky above twisting into impossible shapes.
“Uh, guys?” I called out, my confidence wavering. “I think we might have a tiny problem.”
Freya’s voice was strained. “Oh?”
Before I could respond, the vortex pulsed with a blinding light, and everything went silent. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The Archmage lifted the Echoing Locket around her neck and grinned at me. My blood ran cold. Muttering a spell while holding the amulet, The Archmage’s magic exploded outward, and the vortex disintegrated.
“Professor, watch out!” Brad yelled.
Another surge of dark energy, blacker than the void, erupted from The Archmage’s outstretched hands, aimed straight for us. Elderwood, eyes wide, stepped in front of the blast to protect us.
“Rowan, no!” Freya screamed.
The explosion rocked the forest, ancient stones tumbling from the blast. Professor Elderwood’s form was engulfed in the dark maelstrom. My heart lurched. Time seemed to fracture. My heart lurched.
This couldn’t be happening. Not Professor Elderwood. Now he was gone in an instant, swallowed by that inky darkness.
We were alone now, facing two of the most powerful dark witches in existence. And they’d just taken out our strongest ally without breaking a sweat.
Panic clawed at my throat, threatening to choke me. But beneath it, something else stirred. A spark of defiance, of rage. How dare they? How dare they waltz in here and destroy everything we held dear? First my parents, now Professor Elderwood. When would it end?
I felt my magic roiling inside me, responding to my turmoil. It wanted out. It wanted justice. Or was it vengeance? In that moment, I wasn’t sure I cared about the difference.
The anger bubbling up inside me was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
This wasn’t me. I didn’t lose control like this. Yet here I was, teetering on the edge of something dangerous and exhilarating.
“Professor!” The word tore from my throat. At his death, I felt something inside of me snap free—instinctive, unbridled magic flooding my veins.
The rush of power was intoxicating. It coursed through me like liquid fire, setting every nerve ending alight. I’d always known I was capable of powerful magic, but this? This was something else entirely. It was as if a dam had broken, releasing years of pent-up potential in one cataclysmic surge.
Evie and Brad stood frozen in shock while Freya sobbed uncontrollably, her hands covering her face.
The protective instinct that had always been a part of me roared to life, demanding action.
Ingrid’s smirk faltered. “Sage thinks she can—”
“Shut up!” The rage in my voice startled even me.
For a brief moment, I wondered if this was how villains were born—in a moment of unchecked anger and power. But no, I reminded myself. I wasn’t like them. I was fighting for something greater than myself.
Levitating off the ground, power surged through every cell, alight with seventh-level magic. An ethereal glow enveloped my body as the air crackled with raw energy, leaves and debris swirling around in a vortex of unleashed power.
The sensation of floating was surreal. I felt weightless, untethered from the physical world. Was this what true power felt like?
It was tempting, oh, so tempting, to lose myself in it completely.
Knowing I should’ve been terrified, an overwhelming need to end this and protect what was left of my world surged through me.
Wild and untamed magic filled every corner of my being, threatening to tear me apart from the inside. Holding on, channeling and shaping it became my focus. This gift, this curse, was ready to be put to use.
I’d always been the responsible one, the level-headed witch who thought things through. But now? Now I was chaos incarnate, a force of nature barely contained in human form.
For the first time in my life, I understood why some witches went dark. The allure of such unbridled magic was nearly impossible to resist.
“End this, Sage,” Agatha said, her voice cutting through the haze of power.
Yes, end this. That’s exactly what I intended to do.
My familiar had seen the rise and fall of countless witches. Was I destined to be just another cautionary tale?
For me, this wasn’t about revenge or power. It was about protection, about safeguarding the future of Emberwick Crossing. I’d been given this power for a reason, and I intended to use it wisely.
I looked at The Archmage and Ingrid. Really looked at them. They thought they were invincible, that their dark magic made them unstoppable. But I saw the truth. They were scared. Scared of change, scared of losing their grip on power. And now, they were scared of me.
And I liked it. Then I saw them for what they truly were—not all-powerful beings, but scared, desperate individuals clinging to outdated ideals. It was almost pitiful. Almost. But then I remembered all the pain they’d caused, all the lives they’d ruined, and my resolve hardened.
For my parents, for Brad, for Evie, for all of Emberwick Crossing. This was our stand.
A smile spread across my face. “The Archmage and High Witch.” My voice rang clear as I addressed the two dark witches. “Your night ends here!”
The Archmage sneered and backed up. “Brave words, you little bitch.”
Her insult barely registered. What mattered was the fear in her eyes, the slight tremor in her voice. She knew, just as I did, that everything was about to change.
Good. Let them be afraid. Let them feel a fraction of the terror they’d inflicted on others. I’d make them regret ever setting foot in Emberwick Crossing.
A dark part of me relished their fear. It was a heady feeling, knowing I held their fate in my hands. But I couldn’t let that darkness consume me. I was better than that. I had to be.
With a cry that blended grief with fury, a torrent of pure energy erupted. Brilliant azure flames burst forth, engulfing the forest in an eerie glow. The magical inferno surged towards Ingrid and her sister, its tendrils lashing out like vengeful spirits.
The spell was unlike anything I’d ever cast before. It was beautiful and terrifying, a manifestation of every emotion I’d bottled up over the years. Grief for my parents, anger at the injustice, hope for a better future—all of it poured into this single, devastating attack.
The Archmage sprinted behind the massive tree to hide, while Ingrid took the full force of the magic, her screams echoing through the forest.
“Brad, cover me!”
Sensing him step closer, his builder strength lent solidity to my casting.
“Anything for you,” he affirmed, his confidence lending support.
Agatha jumped into the tree and sat on a branch overlooking us.
I glanced at my best friend. “Evie, your potions—”
She was already sending swirls of colored mist to augment the potency of the spell. “Go, Sage!” Evie exclaimed with tears glistening in her eyes.
Freya backed up out of harm’s way.
With a final burst of energy, the spell struck true, and Ingrid’s body convulsed in agony. Her piercing scream echoed through the darkness. As her lifeline to this world was severed, she collapsed to the ground in a crumpled heap, her once strong and imposing figure now reduced to a lifeless shell. Blood oozed from her wounds, staining the ground beneath her as her breaths came in ragged gasps.
The sight of Ingrid’s broken body filled me with a mixture of satisfaction and horror. This was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it?
But as I watched the life drain from her, I wondered if I’d crossed a line I could never uncross.
I’d taken a life. Justified or not, that was a burden I’d carry forever.
But my magic was still pulsing and darkening around us. Then, with a deafening crack, reality itself seemed to splinter. The magic whirl collapsed in on itself, taking trees and foliage with it. Instead of disappearing, it began to expand outward, warping everything it touched.
“What’s happening?” Brad shouted over the roar of magic gone wild.
Agatha’s voice was grim. “It appears Sage has torn a hole in the fabric of reality itself.”