Threat of the Shadow Mage

“Bleh! Look at them! No, never mind, don’t look. They’re disgusting,” the woman said as she waved her hand over the crystal to dismiss the image.

Her large feline friend looked in her direction to see where she was off to.

“Honestly. I can’t stand watching the public displays of what they call affection. Why must they always feel the need to be all over each other?”

The feline rolled his eyes. “Perhaps, mistress, if you were to find someone of your own, you wouldn’t feel revolted in this manner,” he said before laying his head back down on his paws.

The woman turned with a start. “How dare you make such a suggestion!” A gleam came to her eye as if she’d had an epiphany. “No wait...” she began. “You may be onto something there, Daegar.”

He perched his ears in her direction but didn’t move.

She shuffled back to the crystal and conjured an image of Dante once more. “All I have to do...is make him mine.”

“Not to be the bearer of bad news, but need I remind you elves are not susceptible to charm spells like lesser beings.” Daegar’s tone was slightly vexed and filled with an annoyance that said she had tried that trick one too many times before.

“Oh, no. I won’t need any charm spells to get this one wrapped around my little finger.” Her hands glided over the crystal in a twisted admiration. “No, all I need to do,” she began as a small bout of smoke changed the image, “is get between them.”

At this, Daegar turned his majestic head with intrigue. If Permythia was good at anything, she was definitely the mistress of mischief.

“And how do you propose you do that?”

“Through her.” The smoke settled and an image of Aspen appeared.