Flight didn't come as naturally to her as Phoebe had imagined. She crashed and thunked her shoulders a few times before she managed to catch the wind, and spiral up over the top of the city. A place she was sure that Viviane considered her Caerleon, even though the real place was back in Wales.

If, in Viviane's mind, Phoebe was Guenivere, and Gruna was Arthur, then Marcy... Marcy had to be Lancelot. She had always been a bit of a big sister to Phoebe. A mentor. So the witch would be throwing her to the wolves, in some sort of way that would match...

Phoebe's thoughts were cut off, a she heard the whisper of the wind around her. A response to her desperate pleas earlier. The voice of the trees, carried high into the air. Just an echo of something she hadn't been around to hear the first time.

Warning her that Elion had been resurrected, brought back by a pinprick of blood. Leaving him starving and insane, before the witch kicked him over to Phoebe's world.

"Better late than never..." She growled.

Then, something had fallen back through the portal. It had been a two way exchange, not one way. A young woman, trembling and frightened. The witch had taken her by the roots, which Phoebe assumed meant hair, and then was dragged along the path into the forest.

Phoebe grinned. She owed Gruna for teaching her about the trees.

The dragon dropped from the sky, hedging her wings and racing towards the place. To some, it might have been the darkwood of a fairytale. The place the people go to die. To her, it was a voice that spoke in anger against the holy knight who had been killed by a witch, who thought of her as nothing but a chess piece.

Claimed to hate Artur, to need something that...

Phoebe dropped from her draconic form, and crouched in the forest, moving off the edge of the road. King Arthur hadn't thrown away the sword, back to the Lady of the Lake. He'd asked one of his knight's to do it. She couldn't remember which, but it didn't seem to matter.

Viviane clearly thought that was Marcy. Which meant she was going to torture her to death, and push her beyond the edge of death.

Phoebe winced. She had really hoped that she'd never need to go back there. She closed her eyes, feeling the world go still. The whispers of the trees faded, the anger in her heart stilled. The fear continued, clawing away at her. Losing Marcy. Losing herself. Death.

She dropped backwards, passing through the green flames, before falling onto a floor that could not be seen. A place where there was nothing, but everything. She'd stepped beyond the door, and now, all she had to do was wait.

She blinked twice, thinking, and opened another portal briefly.

As she returned, she saw a blonde looking around frantically, biting the edge of her hand and crying in tears. Phoebe skipped up to her, and held out the cardboard cup. "Coffee. Just the way you like it."

"Fuck me sideways!" Marcy squealed and fell backwards onto the ground.

Phoebe smiled guiltily, "Yeah. I didn't take it so well either. Don't expect you to be 'kay, Marz."

"You... Bitch!" Marcy launched to her feet and slapped her as hard as she could. Phoebe's ears rang through the first line of screaming hatred. "- and you don't even know what real fucking coffee is!"

She nodded and held out the drink again, "Long black. Double ristretto. See, I can listen."

Marcy sniffled and took it, "What the fuck is happening, Pheebs?"

"Crazy bitch from another world reckons you and I can find her soul or some shit. Honestly, I stopped listening the first time she tried to kill me." She shrugged, and smiled at her friend, "But... We can pull a fast one on her. It'll be fun."

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"I'm... Dead... Aren't I?"

"Mostly dead. There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive."

Marcy glared, "No."

"Well, it's still kinda true?" Phoebe winced and then sighed, "Anyways... So... Turns out... I'm... Kinda magic? Like I magic'd my way here. I'm not some dead spectator guiding you to the next world. So I can get us out. But we should probably do that before Viv tries to yank you back."

Her friend's jaw dropped, "You're on first-name basis with that psychopath!?"

"Not a psychopath. She feels things, like fear of me." Phoebe corrected. "But a total bitch."

Marcy shook her head, "Well... I don't wanna be dead. Not even mostly dead. Can we get the fuck out of here, already?"

"Tallyho." Phoebe smiled sweetly, before blasting a little green hole in the air. She was afraid for Marcy, of what it would mean for their relationship. She did have to admit, she'd once had a crush on her friend. They were closer than just friends. She couldn't lose her, even saving her.

The two walked back into their world, and Phoebe went to hug Marcy, who took a quick step backwards. "Nah, uh. Not until you explain."

"Viviane is a bitch of a witch, who reckons I'm Guenivere or something, and is looking for King Arthur's magical sword. So she ripped a hole in the earth, and transported me there. Where I fell in love with an orc that she then killed." Phoebe took a deep breath, "And that's not even the start of my week. So, how was yours, after I disappeared off the face of the planet?"

"You... Didn't." Marcy blinked. "I mean... Yeah. There was some faultline or something, and a break opened in the road. Cars crashed. But you were fine. Then you called me a bitch, quit your job, and we... Stopped talking."

Phoebe rolled her jaw, "Ever feel like my eyes were purple?"

"Um. Once? Wow." Marcy blinked.

Phoebe cracked her neck, "I have something else to kill the bitch for."

"So... Viviane?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Purple fire is sort of... Hatred? So she's stuck with it. Only the one kind of magic, because she's a heartless bitch. I'm barely understanding what I'm doing, but already worked out a few things that one up her."

Marcy's mouth frowned, "There's a problem with that, though, isn't there?"

"Problem?"

"I wanted you to grow up. I wanted you to always be the one who could think herself out of a hole, because only you could... Pet."

Phoebe nearly burst into tears, "Oh. You saw me coming."

"I took her for a reason." Viviane laughed, using Marcy's face.

"But, pretending to have always been her, that was a long shot." Phoebe sniffled, "But... S'pose you know how much I hate you. So that's something, at least."

"Oh, pet..."

Phoebe took a deep breath, fighting back her anxiety, and clenched a fist, grabbing onto the edge of reality. The flames wisping up the side of her arm, threatening to prick and burn her unless she fed them. "But... Do you actually know magic, Viv? Illusion. Illusion! Nothing but illusions. They might be as convincing as the halls of death, or the fucking tortuous labyrinth, but all you do... Time and time again... Is illusion. Do you even know any other magic?"

The smile vanished from Marcy's face.

Phoebe grabbed and wrenched, ripping aside the illusion as easily as she could split open the worlds. Then she stepped forward and burst into flames, headbutting the witch as she formed back into a dragon.

Knocking the woman flat on her back before pounding a claw downwards and burying her into the soil.

Viviane gave a sigh from where she was sitting on Phoebe's back, "Did you really expect that to work, pet?"

"ANOTHER ILLUSION." Phoebe snarled, knowing that the witch sitting on her was no more real than the one she had planted into the dirt.

The vampire had been real. Elion had killed people... Or at least, Phoebe was fairly certain he had. Gruna had really died. Drektanion had, as well. There was something real in Viviane's arsenal, it wasn't all designed to fool.

Which meant she wasn't killing Phoebe for a reason. King Arthur crap was probably just a story yanked from her home. A story meant to be familiar, to divert her attention and concentration. An illusion, to hide the real dagger that Viviane was trying for.

God, she could use a cup of coffee.

The dead dragons and their prophecy was probably a thing. Probably not the temple in the city. Something was off about the whole scene... The knight in shining armour. Knight's fought. They didn't polish and show off who they were, that risked death, and failing in their duty. Gruna hadn't.

So Phoebe might be their Child of Destiny. Maybe. Which meant that she might be destined to destroy this world.

A world that Viviane couldn't leave.

The dragon snarled, smiling, as she realised just what she had to do. There was a lot she couldn't tell was real or not. She didn't know if she had the power to take on Viviane face-to-face and win.

Phoebe grabbed the world in front of her, and split it open with an ear-wrenching howl and screech from the other side of the portal. A horrifying scream as banshees poured out of it, fleeing in every single direction.

The dragon let out a bellow, a roar of defiance, and a bunch of netherbeasts changed their mind about rushing through the portal. The fiery creature walking forward with a flick of her tail, and through and into the centre of the world.