A flash of green lightning carved open the bruised sky. Sheets of rain lashed the horizon, indigo-grey and sinister. Perched at the top of a magnificent lone Devadaru tree, Nerys watched the storm approach. Her lips parted as she tasted the air, testing the veracity of the magic crackling through it. The breeze, growing steadily stronger, tugged at the long, shadowy cape that shrouded her shoulders. She hugged it to her breast with one hand, loosely gripping a strong branch with the other. Caressing the rough, dark bark with slender fingers, she found light purchase in its deep grooves, and hoped that the tree would survive the coming storm. Of course, the giant had weathered many others, but it was very exposed at the top of the hill it crowned. Nerys was partial to Devadaru trees; their wild, sweeping magnificence spoke to her appreciation of beautiful things.

As she waited, she brooded. Teasing at the depths of her mind, a glittering sorceress rose up again – the woman she’d failed to forget for two decades. She remembered the proud ferocity of Calyx’s sapphire gaze, the violent magic shimmering beneath her skin. She remembered appearing behind Calyx, the rounding of those exquisite eyes as the woman had spun, the perking of her lips as she’d realised she’d been caught unaware. The scent of her magic, warm as roses in summer sunlight…

Nerys shook her head, scowling, and forced her mind back to the matter at hand. Across the expanse of farmlands, brooding black-and-purple clouds scudded almost at ground level, shrouding forest and dale without exception. The distant howl of the wind cowed the land as it raced, baying like a hellhound. Frightened creatures scurried for cover; humans rushed to hide in their cottages. Even from her remote vantage, Nerys caught the sound of snapping shutters as people frantically barred their homes.

In the distance, tiny as ants, she could see a band of hunters desperately hauling a stag suspended between them. She watched their painstaking progress with mild amusement. They had a long way to go before they reached shelter – she could already tell that they weren't going to make it. The wild-magic storm was gaining on them, dark, oily clouds bearing down with fierce determination. The puny humans panicked and dropped their prize at last. They made a run for it, but it was too late; in seconds, they were mown down by the beasts hunting across the leading edge of the savage storm.

Nerys snorted; the short-sightedness of humans never failed to amaze her. They should take better precautions – at the rate they were going, there soon wouldn't be any of them left. A half-smile crooked her ruby lips as she mused, but then a different kind of flash caught her eye. She froze, like a hawk that had spotted a mouse, and stared at the point of unexpected movement.

There!

Another flash, white hot, like a bolt of liquid sunlight.

A delicious shiver ran down Nerys’ spine, and she watched with the intensity of a cat, intrigued. She heard the distant echo of a harpy's shriek, saw the grotesque bundle of black feathers plummet to ground, and smiled in pleasant surprise – something was hunting the hunters. Few creatures would tangle with harpies; they were vicious, tenacious, and would fight to the death over a scrap of food. The unglamorous, vulture-like bird-women had a mean reputation for a reason; they were scavengers, opportunists – would even tear each other apart if they felt they might gain from it.

The flash came again, hissing through the leading edge of rain. This time, three harpies failed to dodge the inferno. Their echoing screams rang with pain and fury; their greasy black feathers flaming as they fell from the stormy sky.

Nerys moved at last. Anything that brazen, with that much power, held too much temptation for her. She didn’t know what it was, and she absolutely had to go and find out.

She didn’t usually approach the storms – only observed them to gauge how badly magic was falling out of synchronicity – but today she would make an exception. Leaning forward, she launched herself off the tree. She swung her magic out, catching hold of the air currents around her, using them to control her descent as she glided. It wasn’t flying, strictly speaking, but it was as close as a Witchkin could come, and she relished the feeling. It was a past-time usually only reserved for the Airkin, but even they could not compete with Nerys’ fluidity; she plucked at thermals like playing a lyre. Lat’Nemele were exceptional, equally at home in control of all Elemental Magics, and Nerys revelled in her innate power.

Her keen gaze fixed on the rain-blurred shadow blasting harpies out of the sky, and she swept unerringly towards it. She was almost there, but realised that she was too high to come in at an advantageous angle. With a wave of her hand, she ported in mid-air, evaporating in a cloud of shadowy black butterflies. A heartbeat later, she reappeared ten feet lower. She hit the ground running, fangs bared, and flung herself at her quarry with momentum as her ally.

She caught the other woman around the shoulders, pulling her to ground, and they tumbled over and over beneath the pounding of the pouring rain. The other, a snarling blonde, rolled free and sprang to her feet, a savage growl rumbling deep in her throat. She faced Nerys, pushing wet strands of golden hair out of the way as the stream of rainwater cascaded off her body. Nerys crouched where she was, her fiery gaze snapping with amazement as she realised whom she faced.

The woman who’d arrested her attention all those years ago; her singular peer, her equal... and the woman she couldn’t forget. Nerys narrowed her eyes, pushing aside the brief, pleasant surprise that had risen unbidden. She reminded herself that this woman was her Queen’s enemy – her enemy.

“Where the hell did you come from?” she snarled.

“Hell, indeed!” Calyx shot back, her magic singing around her, “That’s exactly where I’ve been!”

“Well, dear, let me have the pleasure of helping you get back.”

Nerys leapt upright, a ball of freezing blue fire coalescing in her palm. She hauled it at Calyx, who danced aside at the last moment and returned a bolt of searing liquid sunlight. Nerys felt the heat as it grazed past her, and conjured a shield of ice to deflect the second blast that followed rapidly behind. Calyx fired bolt after bolt, unleashing twenty years of frustration, hammering her without mercy. Nerys locked her shoulder behind the shield, gritting her teeth against the fusillade of magic.

That had escalated a lot faster than she'd anticipated.

Calyx was relentless. She bared her teeth in fury, her form glowing with magic and menace.

“I've done my time!" she shouted above the roar of the storm, the crash of her magic, “Yours is about to begin!”

The barrage started to crack Nerys’ shield. She gasped a scathing response, but it was lost in the thunder of magic rending the sky. Forcing her focus, she pulled at the wet air beyond Calyx, snatching it towards them. The icy blast hit the blonde from behind, knocking her off balance, and Nerys used the window of respite to retreat to a safer distance. She called the chill from the air, borrowing power from the storm raging around them, and launched a volley of ice shards back at Calyx before she could recover. The leading wicked spine sliced past the blonde’s cheek, drawing golden blood, and Calyx howled in fury as she flung up a living wall of flame to protect herself.

Around them, the storm gathered momentum, and the two Sorceresses battered each other with savage intensity. Soon, each was bleeding freely, though neither could gain the upper hand. Trees cracked and fell around them; boulders uprooted and flew through the air, crashing down to crush large stretches of woodland. Charred ashes grew heavy beneath the weight of the rain, and charcoal-black mixed with flashes of gold where blood spatters marred the soil. The denizens of the forest skittered in terror, dodging death at every turn until, at last, the Sorceresses began to tire. They might be fit, strong, and in their prime, but the trading of magical blows took its toll. Like swinging a sword, the wielding of magic was not an infinite exercise.

They moved further apart, a silent acknowledgment that they were heading for a stalemate, and the forest breathed a sigh of relief. The gouts of magic became sporadic, and at length, they retreated, each hiding in the eerie aura of the storm. They glared at each other from just outside striking distance, catching their breath, rethinking their strategies. They were two of a kind, an unheard-of occurrence. Between them, a blood feud raged, fuelled by loyalty to different Queens. The only resolution was for one to kill the other.

Each took the other’s measure in the brief moment of respite.

A thunderbolt shattered the heavy air and, as if on unspoken command, both women re-ignited their magic. They leapt forward to resume their savage fight, but an earth-shuddering roar, louder than any storm-growl, halted them both mid-stride. Nerys cocked her head, eying Calyx warily, but the blonde stared back, equally bewildered. Nerys raised her eyebrows, and in unspoken accord, they turned to face whatever approached.

Rapidly gaining ground in their direction, a monstrous silver shadow sped through the clouds, effortless, immense. With a resounding thud, a gigantic beast landed between the two Sorceresses, bellowing its fury. Nerys’ gaze ran up, and up, and up, trying to take in all of it at once.

The dragon’s hot breath burnt clean through the closest thunderheads, and the beast gleamed in the bright sunlight that pierced the gap in the storm. It glared down at Nerys with large, crimson eyes, gnashed its teeth in irritation, and then swung its great head to face Calyx, who wore an expression Nerys had never thought to see on the face of a Lat’Nemele.

Fear.

In a heartbeat, the blonde Sorceress disappeared, fleeing into the Betwixt. The dragon snapped furiously at the glowing smoke left in her wake, but then paused with a worrying amount of intelligence etched onto its scaly face. Nerys watched it, ready to bolt.

But the beast ignored her.

It huffed.

And then, it did two things Nerys had never seen a dragon do before.

First, it shrank – down to the size of a large pony. And then, snuffing at the magic trail like a bloodhound with the scent of fox in its nose, it ported.

Nerys’ jaw dropped. She suppressed a shiver as the beast disappeared in a haze of silver smoke. Fear was an alien emotion to a Lat’Nemele, and yet it had touched both of them in the space of two heartbeats. Nerys wrapped her tattered cloak around herself, pulling it tight. She stood, alone, chilled by more than the rain.

Inexplicable magical anomalies were becoming more and more commonplace, which was why she was out watching the storm in the first place, but she’d never witnessed anything as strange as she had today. She glanced up through the hole burnt through the clouds by the dragon, gauging the time by the height of the sun. It was hours earlier than she was due to return, but she decided that Fayne ought to know what she knew, immediately. The storm could blow itself out just as well without her assistance – the wild-magic was in tatters anyway, thanks to the dragon.

Nerys fixed her inner eye on the Palace and forced her heartbeat to slow down. She released her breath and her solidity at once, and, trying not to think of the impossible dragon inside it, ported into the Betwixt through a cloudful of smoky butterflies.