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Magic #173


Hitching up her skirt to make it easier to crawl, she peered through the brambles. Her hat sat on her shoulders.

It was all gone. The city was an inferno. The wooden buildings around the central castle sat in ruins. But the castle itself was broken too. The walls had been smashed open. Eggshells sprang to mind, as a tear sprang to her eye.

As a War Witch, and the coven's focus, she could wield this kind of power. And she had. But similar power had never been used against her. She'd always managed to do it first.

All gone.

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