Beloved Beast

Chapter Forty-Three

The dark witch snorted, "Empty words for one that raises the dead. Is it not an infraction against nature to engage in resurrection?" She tossed her plait over her shoulder and tutted, "Hypocrisy on you is very unbecoming, sister. If anyone is to blame for the carnage that ensues, it is you. And let's not forget, Mother has no grave to speak of. No burial chamber to cradle her charred remains. There's nothing left of Vivian de Ceville to mourn, and I hardly suspect our deserter of a father will return to resume his place as patriarch. Perhaps if Mother had indulged in arrogance and greed, she may still be alive today."

"You're right. I should have let you die. Even if you were to succeed in stripping my element from me, then what? You cannot fully command it. The fire you wield now weakens beneath my rain. It wavers in your inept hands. It does not obey because you are not its rightful wielder. With or without the Elemental Host, you are not a true elemental. You will fail."

Sera's grin slipped and she gave a look fit to flay her alive. And then, without warning, she hurled a ball of fire.

Elle sucked in a sharp breath and tensed.

With quick, lissome hands, Veda brandished a thick curtain of water that rose high above them, shielding them both from the attack.

She blinked in surprise, stunned, and baffled that the white witch would protect her.

She's protecting you because she has plans for you. You need to run! You need to get far away from the both of them!

Her frantic thoughts had her eyes darting for an escape, but the fire had swelled, and it burned hotter; fueled in direct correlation to Sera's volatile emotions, negating Veda's claims that the element would not comply with the imposter.

To Elle, it appeared as if Sera was fully in control as she launched a wave of attacks, throwing flames in rapid succession against the water barrier, and with every forceful blow it rippled violently, in danger of bursting.

How long could Veda hold it while continuously invoking the rain?

"Fight me, you coward!" Sera bellowed with rage and frustration, her dark eyes bulging in her face as she flung countless rounds of fire at her poised sibling.

The two of them were a terrifying and arresting image to behold. Veda the calm, and Sera the storm. One dark, the other light. Fire against water. Sister against sister. But it wasn't sisterly affection that kept Veda from retaliating, despite the younger having no compunction about killing her. The white mage knew she was no match for her manic kin, in strength or in power, and so she didn't strike back. Instead, she held her defensive position while simultaneously commanding the sea and the rain, preserving her energy and strength where possible. As Sera became enraged, she grew careless in her fragile body. Unfit to endure the witch's supernatural prowess, her mortal vessel began to deteriorate. The more she furiously and tirelessly exhausted her magic, the more it eroded away at her features – Abby's features.

Like her shrinking band of fire, Sera diminished in size. Her shoulders bowed and her fingers gnarled. Her skin thinned, creased, and mottled with age, loosening around jutting bones. Her features drooped exaggeratedly, and the hair around her scalp whitened, aging her exponentially.

It was the same rapid decline that had claimed Prudence's remains, and Elle suspected, the myriad of others before her.

"You spineless bitch!" Sera seethed, expelling a ragged breath as she shook a fiery fist, the flames in her palms fighting to breathe. "You couldn't kill me if you tried!"