Disclaimer: I don't own Gargoyles.
At the green hill known as Glastonbury Tor, where Avalon of the Mists had once been but would never be again, the three thwarted Weird Sisters took refuge.
"Barn owls!" Phoebe exclaimed in indignation, disgustedly pulling a downy feather out of her hair.
"To think, a young mortal from the Welshlands—"
"—with his weak, flawed magic, a bastardization of the true art—"
"—could bypass and so demean us!"
"Heaven only knows where he obtained such a spell in the first place!" the youngest of them cried in rage and despair. "And now those mortals defile our sacred isle!" Of all mortals, only the sleeping king, Arthur ap Uther, the Pendragon, had been allowed to rest on Avalon. And now…
It was unreasonable, unbelievable, that such a man could do that to them. They were the Weird Sisters; their magic was outmatched only by Oberon and Titania. The mortal had been taught by a powerful human sorcerer, it was true, but there had been no true magic in humans since the days of druids and bards, and most of the light had gone out. Yet he had somehow managed to frustrate their just efforts to keep impure human magic out of Avalon.
They would be avenged. The impetuous young mortal man had humiliated them, hurt them; a fitting punishment would certainly be arranged, in time, to repay their hurt and banishment.
But what to do? What would be fitting for such a foolish mortal?
To kill him? It was an appealing thought, but unfortunately much too merciful, and much too swift.
But then, something occurred to the sisters. Something very, very interesting.
It was, it occurred to Selene, very intriguing the way the young Magus looked at the princess. And it opened up a great many options.
"What, sisters, hurts a mortal more than any sword blow or magic spell? What fells a mortal more insidiously than any plague or poison?"
The younger two looked at her in confusion for a moment, then slow, cold smiles formed on their faces. "His heart, his heart. His soft and foolish heart."
It was perfect. The stones were set in place. True, Oberon, forbade the interference of his children in human affairs, but the sisters knew how to be subtle.
The boy with them was just a child. But he would grow.
And if their suspicions were correct, they might not even have to do anything at all. Just sit and observe, lean back and watch the Magus suffer.
The Weird Sisters would have their revenge.
And the Magus would pay.
