In the Pursuit of a Prophecy

“This is not a wise idea, child. The prophecy will come to pass of it’s own volition.”

“When has waiting for a prophecy to happen EVER helped anyone. I am going to circumvent the problem before it starts. [i]That[/i] is the wise thing to do.”

“You tempt fate with your arrogance, little witch. It will be your downfall if you do not tread lightly.”

“Spare me your lectures, Aganeise. You tell me I tempt fate by having raisins in my oatmeal. I am not changing my mind.”

Aganeise, draped in a worn cloak that must have been as old as she was, scowled at the younger witch. She fussed with the folds primly, that bittered insulted look coming across her face in a twist of puckered wrinkles. “Raisins are the creation of evil. Still, to interfere with prophecy comes at a great price. I beg you not to go.”

Slipping a bag on to her shoulder, the younger woman was close to exasperation. Sylvia DuBlanc held little stock in prophecy. Not because she didn’t [i]believe[/i] in it, because she did. It was just that pesky ‘let it come to pass’ nonsense that always pissed her off. What was the use of having prophecies if you weren’t able to change their outcome? The rules and traditions of elderly witches were often useless.

“Woman, we have argued this to the point of pure insanity. I am going. And when I return a great evil will be destroyed and will not have had a chance to step on to our world. Now give me my broom.” Sylvia snatched the broom from Aganeise’s hands.

To create a portal to another world took a great deal of magical concentration. A circle drawn of chalk on the floor, with rune sigils so intricate that the lines had taken her three hours just to draw up. That was quite an accomplishment with an old hag complaining on your heels. The incantation itself was just as intricate. It required a word for each line, and summon for every symbol. Once the phrasing was through, the entire room lit up with a flash. A tear right through the fabric of space appeared before them. Through the opening a grouping of trees could be seen.

“I’ll be back in three days at most, Aganeise. Don’t worry.”

And with that final word, Sylvia stepped through the portal in to another world.

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