"Some pre-Athol stuff about one of the secondary characters named Dwayne. Written under a prompt on Pinterest.com. This kid learned very quickly that there are often consequneces to practicing witchcraft. And I'm also including an older prompt from DevaintArt that fits with this plot line." -Casey
Dwayne tossed and turned before finally turning to look at his clock again. He had to get up in five hours. The teenager sat up in frustration and reached for the cell phone on his nightstand. He flipped it open and selected the recording option. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he was never going to get to sleep otherwise. He set the phone up to record through the night and then finally laid down to sleep.
When Dwayne woke the next morning he found that he was already late. He rushed to get ready for school, dressing in his long white robe and grabbing his magic books. He didn't remember the recording until he was almost out the door. He stopped and took a moment to let the phone run through the recording. It was mostly static so he fast-forwarded through almost the whole thing. Midway through he was ready to give up and hit delete, but that's when he heard it. The faintest hum of a breeze blowing through his room, the soft sound of a fan that he didn't own. He listened as it grew louder and finally a garbled whisper could be heard intertwined with the sound. "Dark warrior..." it called. "Listening to whispers in the dark." Dwayne shut the recording off and deleted it as fast as his frantic fingers would allow. He hadn't been imagining it after all. He really had heard the voice of the sorceress in his dreams.
***
“I see you finally put a stop to your disreputable habit of bringing outside reading to school,” Fiona said with an approving smile.
Dwayne looked up from his textbook at his teacher with a polite smile. “Headmistress,” Dwayne began thoughtfully. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“You mean there’s something that the great Dwayne Flannchadh doesn’t know?” Fiona asked in false surprise. She pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table and sat down to listen to her student attentively.
“Who is the source of your magic?” the boy asked.
“Who?” the sage repeated.
“The unseelie court was never united under any one banner,” Dwayne explained. “So their power is scattered and autonomous. So who is it that you serve?”
“Oh, Dwayne,” Fiona sighed. “I warned you about delving into those old distinctions. They give you such a backwards viewpoint.”
Fiona leaned in closer to Dwayne, who was compelled to lean further back in his chair. “I serve no one,” she explained. “That is the entire reason for being a sage, to govern one’s own fate.”
“All power has a source,” Dwayne reminded her. “You taught me that.”
“Yes, yes,” Fiona sighed. “And my source is greater than any the ‘seelie’ court ever commanded.”
“Then explain why she was banished so easily by that power.”
Dwayne watched his master carefully, but Fiona’s features were a mask. No hint of any kind of emotional response. Dwayne was grasping at rumors and guesses after all. He had no proof of any she hiding down in the sub levels of the school.
“So…” Fiona said at last. “You’ve heard of her… That’s usually a privilege saved for a student’s graduation.”
Dwayne swallowed his panic and did his best to appear unaffected by the sage’s words. He had guessed this much after all. He’d just been praying that he was wrong.
“Perhaps your studies are just a waste of time then,” she shrugged. “Perhaps you would like to meet her. She’d be thrilled to have you after all the time you’ve invested in getting to know her. And who knows, she might even insist on meeting your family as well.”
Dwayne got up from his chair and glared down at Fiona. “You leave him out of this,” he warned.
“I didn’t bring him into it,” Fiona admitted. “In fact, it would be a shame to lose his monthly check for your studies.”
Fiona took to studying her fingernails as the school speakers sounded with the synthesized tone of a bell. She got up from her seat at last and began to make her way out of the library. “Now, now, Mr. Flannchadh,” she called. “It’s time for class. You wouldn’t want to break that perfect attendance record of yours. That sort of thing speaks volumes about your future with this academy.”
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