Sciamachy (noun); a battle against an imaginary person, a battle with ones shadow.
Day seventeen
Ginny
March 1st 1998
It had taken two days of convincing. Still, on March first nineteen ninety eight Ginny and Amora found themselves in the forest. It was a warm afternoon, it wasn't quite hot but it was warm. Ginny set six viles of calming drought on the soil, the glanced up at Amora. She saw the signal, and put her arms up, she said incantations under her breath, and all three trees surrounding them pushed themselves back. Ginny looked back down.
She took the dagger out of its box, she could feel Amora glaring at it like it was some kind of menace. Amora and Ginny sat on either side of the dagger. Ginny tied her hair up, and carefully took a small needle from the basket she'd carried there. She took a breath, and pricked her finger. She waited until exactly three drops had stained the dagger, she watched Amora prick her finger as well.
When exactly three drops had fallen, Ginny looked up at Amora. She held both of her hands, and they both started the incantation. First at a whisper, though as the power built up they both got increasingly louder.
The dagger floated up in the space between their hands, it had a slight glow to it. She could see the magic in the air, it hung around them and pulled itself into the dagger.
The last thing Ginny saw before she fell to the ground, was Amoras eyes.