“The problem is,” begins Zelia, pen in hand and paper before her. She is a study in stillness, musing and wondering. The tableau is only broken by the frantic searching of her apprentice as he races back and forth across the warehouse for the items she told him to retrieve.
Nyx thinks it hilarious. “The problem is?” she prompts.
“The problem is,” Zelia repeats, “Is that he’s terribly powerful, a force unto himself, of course.”
“Of course,” Nyx agrees.
“But he’s also terribly stupid. He has no idea what he’s doing,” Zelia concludes, finally shaping her thoughts and transcribing them. It is less a letter and more a prophecy, glyphs drawn in corners to protect the information until needed.
“Isn’t that how we all started out?” Nyx asks, ever the devil’s advocate.
“Speak for yourself, demon,” Zelia scoffs, no bite in her words, “The Grey Witch is, has been, and will always be quintessential.”
Nyx knows this is not a brag.
Find the line.
Find the line that will lead you home.
Find the line that will lead you home, beyond the dangers.
Find the line that will lead you home, beyond the dangers, above the pain.
Find the line and you will have nothing to fear.
“Immortality!” Zelia shouts, just one voice amongst an endless amount, “Immortality! That stupid boy!”
On her left is an empty chair, grey of course, on her right sits her teacher whose face is in her hand, shoulders shaking.
For a moment, Zelia is ashamed. Until she realizes her teacher is not crying, she’s laughing–then, Zelia just gets indignant.
“What is so funny?” she asks. How can her teacher laugh in the face of this disaster? Proof that Zelia has chosen poorly, that her apprentice–stupid boy, tampering with high magic without having any clue of the consequences–will end what should be an infinite chain.
The title of Grey Witch cannot be passed down if the holder becomes immortal.
Lifetimes wasted, magic forever devastated, all because she chose an idiot who could not grieve properly.
“Oh my darling Zelia,” her teacher says, “How I have failed you. The Grey Witch is not a line.
It’s a circle.”
A/N: I dunno. I have no prompts…