Tarot: Justice
The domain faded, leaving behind only Priscilla and Lucia who was heavily wounded. She cast her hand forward and chanted 'Aptur!' but the grimoire laid dormant. 'Aptur!!' Mustering every last ounce of strength escaped her throat, but it was fruitless, her magical powers had disappeared along with Justice's domain. A healing potion splashed onto her, Noir's quick reaction saved anymore lethal bleeding from taking Lucia's last breath.
'Thanks Noir.'
Priscilla's hand tremored, her eyes grew cold and distant. She herself stuck her arm out, a broom half of her size materialised in the air. Without so much as a word she disappeared from the training grounds, leaving the cavern behind her figure bathed in the moonlight. It was quiet night, but she was safe from the consequences up there. She plucked a small rectangular card from her pocket, sure enough it was the Justice card that robbed Lucia's power. A dark voice called out to her from within the card, a longing for power that resonated with her soul, power to overturn the world.
'God why do all of these magic items have a mind of their own? The brooms, the Tarot card. What next? My hat? My scissors?' She thought about it for a minute, a little blood spilled from a bit mark on her lip, the burgundy scissors formed around her fingers, a little less chipped this time.
'Do you speak?' Priscilla asked curiously.
'Mmmm - mmmm mm mmmmm.' Sure enough, a muffled voice came from the scissors. It tried forcing Priscilla's finger apart, she allowed it and threw the scissors in the air, holding them up with Lortus.
'Much better! Anyway, who do you think you are to summon the great I?' The sassy scissors barked at Priscilla who didn't know whether to feel offended or confused. She chuckled to herself, slowly turning into a full laugh allowing herself to fall off of the broom. Before hitting the ground she was swept up by her new friend.
'I guess that unlocking spells grows my power and allows me to acquire new abilities. And you guys grow more powerful alongside me.' The broom merely shook its tail, while the scissors continued preaching about how it didn't need Priscilla. A smile worked its way onto her face trying to fight away the memory of taking Lucia's power away.
'Anyway, if you are done trying to kill yourself, we should head back to the cavern. Haven't you noticed the heavy fog that had set in?' Priscilla's eyes widened, the quiet night wasn't brought on by the tranquil wildlife, but by the fear that the Vaundrs instilled. Her mind instantly snapped to the cavern, now weakened by Lucia's lack of power.
Priscilla zoomed through the air leaving a sonic boom in her trail as she bobbed and weaved through the trees, alarmed birds and foxes running alongside her struggling to keep up. The large entrance of the cavern stood high above her, she hadn't realized it before but it was part of a larger mountain range. However she was too late, the fog had crept inside, screams echoed through the uneven cavern walls, and dim lights flickered as she approached closer. It was not a single one or even five. It was an entire force, one hundred strong, by her speculation alone.
She activated night vision and dashed through the fog picking up any non-witches struggling to find a hiding spot. The rooftop of the cafeteria served as the best place, the fog couldn't reach such high places and it was a rather sturdy building.
Her eyes caught onto a familiar figure, the lanky Vaundr she had run into on the first night. Her scissors flew forward like a chakram, cutting apart the sickled hand, a scream of agony followed only by his figure bursting into butterflies.
'Over here!' A familiar voice called out to her from the rooftop of a nearby house, her head turned to be met with Noir's worried look. Her legs flexed, launching her up onto the building where Tasha, Lucia, Bianca and Noir had been hiding. Lucia was on the verge of passing out, the effects of the fog seemed to have a drowsy effect on anyone who couldn't access the magical spectrum.
'Listen, Priscilla, I need you to buy me some time while I rescue the rest of the staff members and witches. If possible kill as many as possible, I know it's hard but you are the only one I can trust on this.' Noir held her hand close, trying to show his sincerity by handing her an intricate key.
'This key holds all of my savings, if I don't return to help you, you can have it all.' Tasha gasped, not even she was ever trusted with the key to his vault.
She promptly nodded and summoned her broom once more, blasting away to allow for their swift escape. In the little town square a group had gathered to construct a large pyre with several witches tied in the centre, with torches in hand they danced and sang to the dismay of the unfortunate witches. Dust flew into the air, a second later the witches were gone and only Priscilla stood to face them. Her eyes filled with pure animosity, the blades of her scissors unlatching and growing to half her height.
'Whatchu gonna do with that little missy? A Vaundr laughed his head off, his lantern shaking in the air dropping small pieces of soul fire onto the ground.
Her figure vanished into the fog, appearing directly behind the headless Vaundr. The rest stared in disbelief, a threat that could end their existence descended to bring divine judgement on their long past lives. Some ran, some stood their ground, but all were met with Priscilla's animosity. A dark shadow veiled her face, covering everything but her red eyes that glowed through the thick mist.
Priscilla's sweat drenched the thin cloak she had been wearing, the blades still ringing from the clash of many sickles, all ruptured by her mighty scissors. 'Priscilla-' the scissors flew, impaling the wall beside her neck. Noir's face was devoid of all colour, but regardless of who bumped into her, they were met with her icy glare.
'You- You did all of this yourself?' She nodded her head slowly, the fatigue finally setting in. Thousands of butterflies fluttered against the fading fog, her eyes drooped slowly leading her consciousness into slumber.
'Don't you dare pass out before letting me back in your body!' Screamed a particularly annoying cutting tool. She flicked her hand the blood entered back in through the cut on her lip sealing itself on the way back in. Priscilla's body hit the ground with a soft thud, Noir smiled while picking her body up. She had achieved something that would ensure her name be in history books, the slaughter of one hundred Vaundrs.
==============================≧◉ᴥ◉≦===============================
'Gah! Where am I?' Priscilla awoke in a vast and endless plane of nothing but flowing time. Her legs struggled to lift her from the watery ground, it was neither cold nor hot and she was dressed much differently than what she wore before passing out. Night had fallen yet nothing had changed, before even five minutes had passed morning too had come to say its hello.
'Is anyone out there?!' She cupped her hands around her mouth, her voice being carried across the vast watery terrain yet nothing responded. Thoughts started flooding her mind, what happened to her real body? Did she pass away? Are all of the Vaundrs gone?
'Hey! Over here!' Priscilla's head snapped, her spin screaming for help. Her ears told her in which direction the sound came from, but no one was within her line of sight. 'Down here, you idiot!' Priscilla instantly recognised the voice, the words were just an added extra.
'Hey there, mind explaining where we are?'
'Pfft, you don't even know? God this generation of witches is slow. Do you not know what happens when you expend too much magical power?'
Priscilla shook her head, confused at what the little scissors were talking about.
'You enter a type of hibernation until you recover fifty per cent of your power back.'
'How much did I use?'
'Like at least ninety per cent! Do you know how dangerous that is?? I could've been wiped from existence! And there is no way I am letting an amateur witch expel me from this world.' The sassiness of the scissors certainly seemed to carry across the two different plains of consciousness, but Priscilla was not sure how to handle the attitude in both.
'That is quite a bunch, is there an easier way to track my usage of magical power?'
'Of course! You should've asked sooner. Chant ''Witch Status''.'
And Priscilla did as she was told, a sheet of parchment paper materializing in her hand with several stats like in a video game.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
─⋅⋆⁺ MP (Magical Power) 45/500
─⋅⋆⁺ BP (Battle Prowess) 170/300
─⋅⋆⁺ GL (Grimoire Limit) 5/5000
─⋅⋆⁺ HP (Health Points) 250/250
─⋅⋆⁺ MF (Mental Fortitude) 1/25
─⋅⋆⁺ SD (Star Divination) N/A
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
'This is pretty cool, reminds me of those novels I used to read. But what are the last two?' Priscilla asked curiously.
'MF is the amount of stress or trauma you can handle at any one point. Your body begins neglecting wounds inflicted onto you while your brain shuts off all functions. But listen to me girl, never let it drop to zero!'
'What happens if it drops to zero?'
'The end of life as you know it.'