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The Final Challenge

“YOU TOOK YOUR time,” said Rune.

“It is literally three minutes past six,” said Belle, finding him waiting impatiently next to her mother.

“Exactly. I told you to be on time,” Rune said firmly, pulling down the sleeves of his jacket as she landed on the ground of Queens Wood.

“I’ve just left my non-wicche friend questioning whether she belongs in an asylum after self-transferring directly in front of her. I think you can spare me three minutes,” Belle snapped at him.

“Ariadne witnessed magic?” Bonnie gasped, clutching her necklace.

“I’m just saying,” Rune interjected, “that funnily enough I’m on quite high alert when it comes to your safety. I was starting to think that you might have run into some trouble.”

Belle took a moment. “Fine,” she said reluctantly. “That is actually quite thoughtful.”

“Successful self-transference, though,” he pointed out, looking impressed.

“Belle, what about Ariadne?”

“It’s fine, Mum. Just the cherry on top of the cauldron.” Belle forced herself to relax. “It’s going to be fine. Hi, by the way.” She gave her mum a hug. “We have so much that we need to talk about.”

“No time for that now. Rune has filled me in, I know the dot-to-dots. Rune, would you like to do the honours with Mr.Day, or shall I? He was a little anxious to make the journey himself.”

“I’ll fetch him,” Rune replied, disappearing for what must only have been a handful of seconds before reappearing again with Artorius hanging on to his forearm, looking impossibly small and frail next to Rune’s towering height. They touched down onto the dry earthy floor of the bare circle in the woods with a whirlwind of sparks, kicking up brown dust as they materialised.

“My, that hasn’t gotten any more pleasant over the years, has it? You’d think in this day and age we might have refined the process slightly,” Artorius said, looking a little green around the gills. He gripped his thighs for a moment, head down to steady himself, then glanced up. “And where might we be, exactly?”

“This is a perpetual gate to and from Hecate House, no matter where it incarnates. Leaving the quad via the stone statues always brings you out to the oak circle here. Nonetheless, I spent most of today disabling a handful of enchantments around the place that would normally alert Hecate House to our arrival. The breaks should hold long enough for us to slip in unnoticed.”

Belle, for the first time, took proper note of their surroundings. With dusk setting in and the huge towering canopies of the oaks, the air was dark, almost purple in hue, with an undulating supernatural feeling. She immediately found her senses heightened like an animal, awareness sharpened to a weaponised point. Magic was in the air. The breeze was rushing through the nut brown leaves above, and the bare, spindly branches sounded like frantic whispers from every which way.

“We haven’t much time. But they’re all here, practically the whole coven if I’m not mistaken,” Bonnie urged, gathering the four of them closer together so she could speak in hushed tones. “Your endarkenment ceremony is about to begin, love.”

“It’s this way.” Rune gestured between two of the mighty oaks. She expected him to guide them farther into the woods, perhaps to a hidden doorway again. But stepping between the two trees, Rune dissolved to nothing as though he’d stepped behind an invisible waterfall, his whole presence rippling into thin air. His upper torso poked back out from nothing and nowhere.

“Probably should have explained. It’s a glamour, a manipulation charm to hide the back entryway to the quad. You’d never find it unless you were looking for it. Come on.”

He vanished again. Bonnie encouraged Belle through first, followed by Artorius before bringing up the rear, checking over her shoulder that nobody had taken a wrong turn in time to see four wicchefolk fade into nothing.

Breaking through the other side of the glamour, their surroundings changed.

“Is that it? No trials or tests?” Belle asked, astonished.

“I told you. It’s a back way in,” Rune said, dusting himself down. “Normally there’d be a maze of guarding enchantments in place, but fortunately, you’ve got me on your side.” He flashed her a dazzling “Mr.Magical” worthy smile.

“You’re telling me I went through hell and back through the front door, faced my darkest fears, almost drowned in quicksand, when I could have just waltzed through the fields and the woods like Maria von Trapp?”

“Who?”

“Never mind,” Belle muttered grumpily. The new space around them was a shaded but verdant quad, manicured to a leafy pine-coloured perfection. The sound of running water echoed around the stone walls, all laced with moss that so perfectly traced the structures, it must have been placed magically. Fountains stood at various intervals along pebbled pathways, and a brilliant navy blue night sky peppered with stars hung low overhead. It felt tranquil and sleepy in a Gothic, languishing way. And just as Rune had mentioned, they entered between two large stone statues of Hecate, which took the place of the two oak trees.

“Nice place you got here, lady,” Belle muttered to the statues. “Thanks for having us.”

“You are so weird,” Rune said, faintly bemused but, Belle noted, distinctly affectionate.

“Now where?” Bonnie asked.

“The courtroom,” Rune answered. “Probably just in time to watch Morena revel in her own greatness and strike off Belle’s endarkenment, all in the name of All Hallows’ Eve.”

They followed Rune as he wound them through the quad, the sky above disappearing as they headed downwards under a thicker canopy of lush leaves, eventually coming to a doorway built into the farthest wall. He swung it open with difficulty, the wood heavy and swollen with damp, cumbersome as it scraped across the quad’s stony floor.

They arrived in the atrium underneath a vast depiction of the mythical Capricorn creature, goat-like with enormous horns. Across the room lay Bronwyn’s office, with the giant metal silhouette of two witches hanging above.

Bonnie let out a gasp that sounded so horrified, Belle’s instant reaction was to assume that her mother was hurt. She spun around but found Bonnie’s eyes on the ceiling, a hand to her mouth in horror. Rune, too, was reeling, gazing at the domed roof in disbelief, brown eyes wide. Only then did Belle register it, too. What had once been a blanket of brilliance, the thick layer of physical magic charged across the entire stretch of the imposing dome, was gone. All that remained was the ceiling itself, a hollowed beige emptiness, void of everything but shadow.

“They’ve stolen it. All of it,” Bonnie breathed.

Belle never saw her mother angry. It wasn’t an emotion she leaned in to very often, but in that moment, a fury spread across Bonnie’s face that was palpable. It radiated from her. Without warning, she charged towards the Libra doorway, blasting it open with a flick of her palm, so hard that it toppled from its hinges. They all ran after her.

Belle did a double take. It was as though she’d walked back in time to the very same moment she’d last been in this room. As though the same torturous scenario with her manifests was still taking place. The sage witches both stood at the high podium in the centre, the points of their hats dancing tall. The whole jury were in place, just as they had been before, filling both sides of the long pews that stretched towards the nexus. All had eyes closed, poised to that same immaculate stillness again. And the grand pendulum itself was stationary, as it had been when the storm erupted to conduct her manifests. The Gowdens were standing with arms outstretched, magic erupting around them in that same tidal wave force that she’d witnessed, but there was more of it. So much more. They were surrounded by it, their own fortress of incandescent magic enveloping them.

Belle dragged her attention to the jury, spotting Caspar first. Under their trance, his usual elegance and grace were gone. He was buckling, his breathing laboured, the richness of his skin faded to an ailing pallid greyness. The hollows of his cheeks were extreme, like engravings, his eyes set deep in skeletal coves. It was the same for every coven member. All seemed to be fading, an evanescent memory drifting away. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Belle heard Artorius stumble in shock, saw her mother sprint towards Caspar to try and catch him as he feebly swayed unconsciously.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Bonnie.” Bronwyn spoke in her usual sweet tone, made sickly by the knowledge they now had. “I brought you to the brink once before, I can do it again.”

“Let them go!” Bonnie shouted back, incensed. “What is this?”

“I’d have thought this would have been firmly in your diary, Bonnie. Your own daughter’s retrial?” Morena tutted with a snarl. “They’re all gathered here for her. They’ve all been waiting for you, Belle.”

Belle felt hollow, nauseous. They’d used her retrial, aligning the moons with her mentorship, as an excuse to gather everybody here together. To ensure that everybody was at Hecate House on All Hallows’ Eve.

“You tricked the whole coven! This was never about me. You just needed them all here, while the veil is at its thinnest, so that you wouldn’t fail at…whatever it is you’re trying to do.”

“Oh, Belle, poor poppet. Not the brightest, are you, my love? Isn’t it obvious?” Bronwyn smiled. “We’re starting again. I dare say we’ve waited long enough.” She chuckled, hands clasped together. “A new coven. Shaped for success and strength. No more hiding. After all, Selcouth itself has always unanimously agreed that my sister and I are the worthiest magic holders. Everyone else has sadly made such a mess of something that could be so perfect. It’s only right that we should begin again, take the magic back for ourselves and do with it what we see fit. Once we have gathered all the magic shared amongst Selcouth, we’ll consider who it is really best held by. Witches and warlocks who won’t sully it or let it go to waste.”

“You cannot do this.” Artorius stepped forward as boldly as he could, and Belle felt her heart break in two at the sight of the frail old friend whom she’d become so reliant on, looking so small against the overbearing backdrop. He shielded his eyes from the brightness of the magic, faltering at what was unfolding before him.

Bronwyn let out her signature chuckle again; it felt impossible to Belle that she’d ever considered it endearing. “Well, look at you, Arty. Still clinging on to one last hope that you’ll be a part of the gang again?” She laughed. “Pity. I’m afraid you’re about as much of a feature in Selcouth’s future as you were a part of its past. Just not quite up to scratch, you understand.” She wrinkled her nose in a monstrously sweet way.

“Sisters…Why?” he called, sounding impossibly sad. “Where did this venom stem from? You are not the girls you once were.”

“I should hope not,” Bronwyn went on. “Those girls were woeful. They should have stood up for themselves from the beginning. Rather than letting Father ever tell us who was and wasn’t worthy in our family. That oaf Savaric, especially. Removing him from the picture was the best thing I could have done. I never regretted it for a moment.”

Belle was surprised to see Morena falter almost imperceptibly, the magic emitting from her palms flickering just the smallest amount. In a moment, it was back to its solid, controlled form. Perhaps she’d imagined it.

“And isn’t that exactly what you’re doing now? What you’ve been doing all of these years? Dictating who is and isn’t worthy of a part of all of this?” Belle shouted, the hypocrisy enraging her.

“Silence, you utter waste of precious sorcery,” Morena spat. “How dare you factor yourself into this! This is far greater than a fool like you could ever pretend to understand.”

“Don’t you dare. Ever. Speak to my daughter that way!” Bonnie thundered, her rage careering through the room. Before Belle could stop her, Bonnie threw her right palm up towards the sky and brought a crashing ripple of magic from the Gowdens’ swirling supply towards them in a vehement gesture, breaking apart the barricade, the shock so sudden that they were both almost knocked off their feet.

Morena quickly adjusted herself and sent one back in return, the strength of the wave so enormous that Belle could feel it resound in her lungs as it hit. Another was sent roaring back in the Gowdens’ direction, but it didn’t come from Bonnie. Belle’s head flung around just in time to see Rune’s magic cascade across the courtroom, mighty enough that the pendulum shuddered as it resonated against the bronze.

“Isn’t this just adorable?” Bronwyn giggled, though a thunderous temper was clearly visible behind her eyes, fracturing the fa?ade. She gathered the magic back around her as though knitting together a string between her palms. “A mother and daughter act, a useless old sidekick and the handsome, hapless hero? I couldn’t have written it better myself.”

“And what does that make you both? The villains? Or just a pair of bitter, self-aggrandising old hags who anointed themselves as better than everybody else to feel powerful? You said it yourself, Bronwyn. ‘The truth always outs in this coven.’?”

“Call me a hag one more time, girl,” Morena spat.

It was only then that Belle noted the pendant hanging around Morena’s neck over her cloak. A sooth stone, but Morena’s own was still encased in the ring she wore. As her eyes fell upon the jewel, once encased in a delicate shell brooch, it turned from grey to radiant gold, connecting to her. Her own stolen sooth stone. She could have exploded for the rage that burned inside her.

“Won’t everybody please just take a breath?” said Artorius. “This is going to end in—”

“Enough from you, little brother! You’re still unwanted, even now.” Bronwyn cast out a palm specifically towards Arty.

Her spell threw him into the air at impossible speed, and he landed in a heap against the courtroom wall. His small body didn’t move.

“No!” Belle cried out. She ran to him, a bundle of oversized jacket, glasses knocked to the floor.

“Arty, are you okay? Can you hear me?” Belle quickly manifested a pillow to place under his head, the best she could do in that moment, and said a silent wish to whatever it was that witches were supposed to believe in. She turned back to the scene just in time to see her mother send another blow in response, the effort visible across her face enough to break Belle’s heart by itself. A chaotic storm of magic flew in every direction across the courtroom, ricocheting from the brass pendulum. The noise was enormous, too. Thunder cracks, implosions of what Belle could only assume to be the atmosphere itself, as the women’s powers broke through normal planes of speed and light. It smelled distinctly of burning.

She called as loud as she could over the crashes, “Rune, stay here! Get everybody to safety. Whatever it takes,” Belle yelled, struggling back to her feet to run to him, dodging flying bolts of magic. “Mum and I will deal with these two.”

“You’re sure?” he shouted back, manipulating a sphere of solid magic between his palms, which he sent careering towards the nexus. “I’m going to bring it down, the pendulum. It’s what all of the magic is attracted towards, like a magnet. If that comes down, it should break the spell they’re holding over the coven, at least temporarily. It’ll be chaos, but—”

“Got it,” Belle yelled, not even attempting to understand what he’d just said. It sounded good.

“And Belle, I didn’t mean it.” He swallowed hard, holding her with a stare. “You were wrong.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just for a change, is this really the time?”

“Not like that…I mean, I was wrong to agree with you when you said we shouldn’t have kissed. It was the best possible thing. You’re the best possible thing.”

Her heart gave a kick.

“Be careful.”

Without thinking, she grabbed one of his hands and held it for just a fraction of a second. Their palms brushed, the static of magic snapping between them as they separated. She dashed to her mother’s side, shielding her eyes as best she could as Bonnie battered the Gowdens again with shocks of magic.

“Mum!” she shouted, straining her voice. “We need to get them out of the courtroom, into the atrium, to move all the magic away. Rune will protect the coven members.”

“It sounds like you have a plan, darling.” They were screaming at the top of their lungs but still only barely able to hear each other as the room began to crumble around them, unable to withstand the forces of five witches at war, the unbalanced magic. Huge chunks of ceiling, wall, shelving and fireplace were crashing to the ground now, books flying at all angles, stone splitting open and sending a thick choking dust into the air.

“When do I ever have a plan?” Belle replied. “All I know is that when Rune brings the pendulum down, we run. They’ll follow us. It’s personal. They’re hell-bent on it.”

“I do love our girly time together, Belle,” Bonnie shouted back sarcastically as a huge stone boulder missed her head by inches.

“It’s coming down,” Rune yelled, pulling the pendulum out towards them, seizing it from its hinges. “Get out!”

Bronwyn shrieked, “Rune, do not—”

The pendulum came crashing down, tearing chunks of the room with it. Belle chanced one last look at Rune, which she hoped said everything she hadn’t managed to. Then she grabbed her mother’s cloak and ran with all her strength out of the courtroom doors and into the atrium. As they’d suspected, Bronwyn and Morena immediately shot after them, without so much as a glance at one another. The Blackthorns were their main targets, that much was clear.

“It’s because it’s ours, if you’re a stickler for the rules,” Bonnie called to her daughter across the huge celestial floor as they held their stance, thick clouds of dust from the ruined courtroom already spilling out and filling the atrium.

“What is?”

“The coven should have gone to your nan when Savaric was killed. Artorius wasn’t old enough for endarkenment, so it would have gone to her next. Luckily for the Gowdens, she had absolutely no interest in claiming it,” Bonnie explained.

“That unanimous vote from the coven when they showed up years later…seems rather convenient, thinking about it now,” Belle added.

Bronwyn and Morena came bursting through the enormous Libra door, clambering through the rubble, the bronze scales above ricocheting against the stone with a deafening metallic clang.

“You’re making this much more difficult than it needs to be, Bonnie,” Bronwyn called, raising her hands to drag out the magic from the courtroom behind her in an enormous train of stars. “Rune will not survive in there, returning so many witches back to their full form. They’ve all been drained of their magic. The effect will drain his own before he can revive even a handful. What a terrible waste.”

Belle felt ablaze with anger and fear for Rune. Bronwyn swept towering, deep walls of the magic back around herself and Morena as they took their place opposite the Blackthorns.

“And you’ll both be dead in a matter of minutes,” she said casually.

“So, what’s even your plan?” Belle shouted. “Bump off every single member of this coven? Don’t you think that looks a little suspicious?”

“Freak accidents happen at the hands of magic. Granted, one of this scale hasn’t been seen for quite some time, but—”

“And then what? Start all over again, rebuild a coven only of witches that you consider worthy? Or keep it all to yourself? Because where are you planning on finding anybody good enough, if it’s not Bonnie Blackthorn, Rune Dunstan, Caspar Strix, Artorius Day—any number of the good people you’re currently sacrificing just behind you?” Belle was screaming now, a passion so rapidly swelling between her veins that she could feel its temperature physically changing under her skin. “Who are you to tell anybody whether their version of magic is worthy?”

“I am the sole worthy witch!” Bronwyn screamed at such a pitch that Belle startled.

She saw Morena falter again, too, dropping her half of the magic, shooting her sister an uncertain look.

Bronwyn screeched. “Thirty years of age, and you don’t know the first thing about magic. You know nothing, girl. You are nothing.”

“Not anymore,” Belle roared, her voice strained and hoarse, anger turning to certainty. “My magic is mine. It’s greater than you’ll ever know.”

She wasn’t certain that this would even work or what would really happen if it did. But she was certain of herself in that moment. That she was worthy of it. That she was good enough to those who mattered. And it was worth a try.

“Vividus Animo.” One of her earliest lessons.

Bonnie glanced sideways at her daughter, eyebrows knitted together, immediately understanding. “Vividus Animo,” she echoed, laying both of her palms onto Belle’s outstretched hands to make their magics join together, to double them in strength. The room rumbled. An earthquake beneath their feet, the walls trembling as though Hecate House itself was fearful of what was to happen next.

It couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t have worked for her, magic like this. Could it? From the corner of her eye, Belle noticed Taurus first. The giant bronze bull kicked a front leg against its back one, scuffing its impossibly sharp horns against its hindquarters. The bull leapt to the floor, as real as any other animal that Belle had ever witnessed but five times the size.

Then came the huge pincered Cancer crab, its pointed claws like impossible razor blades as they scraped down the stone walls of the atrium, clicking its way under Blackthorn magic towards the Gowden sisters. All twelve of the horoscopes above each door of Hecate House followed suit, each one animating to life, instantly drawn in a fury to the two witches currently in charge of a cascading force of magic that was bringing their ancient home to the ground.

The scorpion’s acutely sword-like tail. The lion’s vicious jaw. The aimed arrow of the Sagittarius centaur swinging directly towards Bronwyn, ruthless in its defence. Even the Gemini sister witches turned against their human counterparts. Together, the whole zodiac descended on the sisters in a frenzy. The Gowdens, with frantic looks passing between them, had no choice but to turn their attention away from the Blackthorns. They tried in vain to blast the zodiac away quick enough. But while one creature was sent reeling backwards, another took its place, battering them relentlessly with unbridled acrimony.

But it wasn’t enough. Belle and Bonnie glanced at each other nervously, straining to keep the spell knitted. For now, they were separated by the destruction, but the sisters would outwit the zodiac. It was only a matter of time before their seemingly endless supply of stolen magic, surplus to their own natural strength, would overpower Belle and Bonnie. There had to be something more, with everything that Hecate House held within its walls. Residing on the ley lines, the very nexus itself.

“Fire to earth, earth to fire,” Belle muttered to herself. “Create that which thy most admire.” The allegory for Earth Sorcery.

“What, love?” Bonnie struggled to hear over the chaos.

“Water to air, air to water. Powers for the firstborn daughter. Mum, that’s it!” Belle shouted in disbelief. “My challenge, the elements. This is it.” The elements had all been present for her manifests. They were all present at the nexus, the point where all came together. Artorius had been right, the grimoire had been trailing clues like breadcrumbs all along.

She started small. That palm-sized glow of warm sunshine that she’d practiced in the greenhouse. The tiny bursts of rain that she’d made pour from her fingertips. The breath of air that she’d managed to manipulate and control, just enough so that it cascaded across the garden to bend the blades of grass at her will. Fire was easy enough, a witch’s bread and butter. And they were so, so far underground. Earth was all around her. She just had to summon it, all at once. It had happened in the entryway tunnel, when her heart had needed it, but she had no idea how she’d made it happen. It had been within her all along, and Hecate House would answer her.

Against the cacophony surrounding them, Belle closed her eyes and tried to summon just the smallest moment of focus and peace while Bonnie and the zodiac shielded her as best they could. Remembering everything she’d learned for so many moons. Needing, more than ever, to trust herself, trust her instincts, trust her magic.

But nothing came. The air, water, earth and fire all stayed small within her palms.

Bonnie stayed locked in combat with Morena, but Bronwyn burst through the gloomy warfare like a thunderbolt, sending two solid flashes of magic directly at the enormous Pisces fish, both the size of a whale, thrashing violently. It hit them both square in the torso, and the bronze creatures emitted a strangled dying-animal noise that Belle hurried to protect her ears from.

“Give it up, Belladonna. You’re nothing.” Bronwyn looked possessed, a madness dictating her every move as she edged forwards. “There is only one magic that deserves to survive this night, and that is mine. You will not ruin this when I have waited so long.”

“You can’t, you can’t…” Tears were coming as she willed the elements to do something, anything, at her call.

“You shouldn’t have survived this long, the unremarkable disappointment that you are. It’s a miracle you’ve beaten any of it—my protection block, astral manipulations, my Subfuror Incantare , even the poison, and taking that damned stone of yours…Do you know the lengths I’ve gone to, the ways I have pushed the boundaries of my powers to prevent us from getting to this point?” Bronwyn wandered closer, beating crashes of magic away as she walked. “I only set out to make you see that none of this is really for you. To scare you enough that it nudged you into giving up this world for good. Only the inevitable, I thought, to prove to you in black and white that you don’t deserve this. That magic isn’t meant for you.”

She spat those last words. Without taking her eyes off Belle, Bronwyn sent the Sagittarius centaur ricocheting into the wall, smashing its bow and arrow from its grasp. Belle’s arms flew to cover her face as bronze shards splintered through the air.

“I should have just left you to fail your EquiWitch and be done with it, like Morena wanted. Trusted that her silly little spell to send your summoning letter awry would be enough to ensure you didn’t show. But I couldn’t take the risk. Then your early manifests showed dangerous promise, memories of power and ability that could have been enough to convince you one day that you were worthy. That’s when it occurred to me that I could kill two birds with one stone. Setting you up for failure with my halfwit brother would ensure there could be no doubt the second time around. An unprecedented second failed EquiWitch could never be contested, you would no longer be a threat to our leadership. And it would guarantee no possible future debate regarding Arty’s past, present or future.

“But you just kept passing the challenges, the grimoire was supposed to ensure you couldn’t…” Bronwyn’s disbelief was audible. “It wasn’t supposed to come to this. The stupid pair of you refusing to acknowledge the warning signs. I had to escalate…I had no choice.” Belle thought she saw the sage witch waver in conviction, just barely.

“You’ve caused me great trouble, girl. And where does that leave us? What more will it take? With all of your loved ones trapped here, just moments from death. In fact, silly me”—she laughed, her usual chuckle now something sinister and twisted—“not all of your loved ones, my mistake. In all of the excitement, how could I forget? There’s one missing out on the party, isn’t there?”

With a mere flick of her palm, Bronwyn spun a vortex of magic towards the centre of the room.

Through the blurred whirlwind, Ariadne materialised, dressed in her pyjamas behind the sparks, brought directly into the middle of a battlefield she had no business being in. She squinted against the blinding forces of magic, gazing around in utter bemusement before catching sight of her best friend.

“Belle?”

“Ari!”

“What more will it take, Belle? Who else are you going to endanger? Surrender your magic,” Bronwyn yelled over the pandemonium that filled the atrium.

“Stop it! Send her back, this isn’t fair! She’s not a part of this.”

“Let your magic go!”

“I can’t! I—”

“Then know that this is your fault. I told you all those weeks ago, love only leaves you vulnerable—if you allow it to endure.”

Bronwyn moved so quickly that it took Belle a moment to even realise where the blast of magic had come from. The ground beneath Ariadne’s feet, the point where the astrological sun wove together with the whimsical moon in the dazzling mosaic, surrounded by the stars and gilded with gold. It slipped from beneath her, erupting into pieces as Bronwyn cast a final, enormous barrage of stolen magic, exhorting everything she had, whatever it cost. In the fury, Ariadne was thrown up high above them, tossed like a rag doll to the very top of the domed ceiling. She came tumbling down in a rush.

Belle watched her in slow motion.

Her twin flame, the mirror soul that she would always swear was splintered from her own. She saw it all as Ariadne fell. The moments that they’d laughed until their faces ached with joy, the moments that she’d missed before they’d even ended, because she knew they were too impossibly precious to last long enough. It was all that she could see.

Her arms flung open, as though her insides were being ripped from her by something invisible, every sinew and muscle strand aching at the effort to feel it all, feel everything all at once. To be enough for everyone she loved. There it was again. It felt like her bones would snap. Like her skin would burst.

Then came magic.

First, the rush of a tidal wave which sent them all flying apart at such a speed that Belle struggled to catch her breath, drowning in gulps of foamed, frothed sea whipped to white. With it, a wind that ripped through the room in a tornado vortex, sweeping everyone and everything up in its wake with rubble and dust. A projection of fire from the ends of her fingertips that singed her skin, the sensation so raw that she could barely even register it. The ground beneath her feet, the walls and the ceiling shook violently, tremors vibrating everything in their wake as the earth itself moved under her magic.

But finally, a blinding burst of sunshine. So great that it consumed everything else. Golden and warm on her face. The sun had come. The clouds had gone.

Her final thought was Ariadne. How it wasn’t fair. How she couldn’t suffer here amidst all of the dark and dismal chaos created by something that she was powerless against, that she was too good for, that Belle couldn’t possibly associate with her best friend.

Belle’s skull was reverberating, her shoulders were torn, her spine shouted and her limbs felt like lead. But somewhere in the back of her subconscious magic instinct, she summoned her. Transferred Ariadne to her arms so that she knew she was as safe as she could make her.

And then it all stopped. The sun disappeared and everything turned black.