The Lover's Cost

Wrath

The very second the moon rose, Heather warped to the twin doors and hurried into them. She couldn't wait to see her mentor's magic and if it was truly as great as its owner boasted. Solving mysteries never failed to bring Heather great pride and satisfaction.

On the flip side of that coin, Heather wasn't extremely keen on making the beautiful mage upset at her. She'd done nothing but help her, and the poor thing starved, after all. Heather's sprouting feelings for the doll did nothing to ease the notion, either.

No, she had to do this. It'd be quick, and she would be sure to apologize profusely afterward.

Heather made her way to the chained sphere. Fighting its terrible aura, she took a deep breath and prepared herself for action. Then, she slipped into the void.

"Hi, Mistress!" Heather shouted, marching right in.

The pale woman jolted, whipping around to her student. "Heather! You're a bit early..."

"Yeah! I'm just so excited to start today! I've got some great ideas for training methods!" She plowed right on toward her mentor and purposely stepped on her foot, tearing a loud yelp out of the doll. "Oh no! I'm so sorry, Mistress!"

"Ugh, it's...fine," growled the frail woman. Heather couldn't tell if it was in pain or anger, but no magic sparks showed themselves yet so she proceeded.

"Oh good! Anyway, we should- AGH!" Heather crashed her foot into her mistress's again, but this time she fell into her bony frame and knocked both of them to the floor. "Whoops!"

The mistress snarled and scrambled to her feet. "What are you doing, Heather!?" Her eyes were narrow and her teeth gritted. Heather saw clear anger, and she saw sharp fangs, but no magic yet.

"Sorry, sorry," Heather huffed. "I'm a bit clumsy. We can get started whenever you're ready."

The pale mage sighed and her expression eased. "Good, thank you. Let's go ahead right now," she rasped.

Alarms sounded in Heather's mind. Phase one failed. The mistress already calmed herself, and that could not be allowed. Phase two would have to begin sooner than expected. "Wait! Mistress, before we start, I have an idea for training today!" Heather blurted out.

A purple eyebrow raised. "Oh?"

"Yeah!" Heather hurried to a huge duffle bag she brought and from it produced a wide skillet and a deep sauce pan. She took a breath, raised the two cooking utensils over her head, and banged them over and over until metal on metal filled the endless prison. Heather screamed over the obstreperous racket, "So, what if we, like, try to use magic and focus over all this noise! It's kinda like what you had us do last night! But with hearing instead of vision!"

The doll visibly cringed, her fingers curled like talons and her back arched like a hissing cat's. Heather charged forward, banging her pot and pan like a drummer in a marching band. She trotted right up to her mistress and smashed the utensils together an inch away from her face. "What do you think!?" Heather screamed, grinning. "Brilliant, right!?"

The ghostly woman shook with ire and thrusted her arms forward, each hand grabbing one of the cooking supplies. Silence instantly enveloped the void. The mistress trembled, her voice a low and angry hiss. "If this is some kind of joke," she began, leaning in with narrow eyes and clearly struggling to keep calm, "I don't have the patience for it..."

But she did have the patience to keep her magic at bay, so Heather reluctantly began phase three. "No joke, Mistress. But I'm sorry for causing a racket," she said, putting the pans away. As she fiddled through the contents of her duffle bag, she felt the mistress's icy eyes freezing into the back of her skull. A painful and ravenous force swirled deep in Heather's gut. Fear, she wondered? Fear of her mentor's sudden change? The pale woman had so far been quiet and calm, but she now revealed a terrifyingly quick temper.