It was a dream, Allura thought groggily. One of those dreams when you knew that you were dreaming. She willed herself to open her eyes and wake up, knowing that she would find herself curled up in bed.
But she wasn't.
She blinked in confusion as bits and pieces began filtering back to her. It wasn't a dream. Fighting back the panic that threatened to overwhelm her, she forced herself to take stock of her surroundings.
The first thing that she noticed was the choking, almost tangible stench that seemed to combine the smells of every foul substance that she had ever encountered — brimstone, rotting flesh, human excrement.
It was difficult to concentrate, but she still had enough presence of mind to wince in disgust at the slime and filth that she felt on the ground beneath her hands. She forced herself to get to her feet —a task more difficult than she expected — because of the viscous sludge that made the ground flow and shift.
The silence was absolute — almost deafening in its completeness. She seemed to be alone in a world of darkness — no celestial bodies whatsoever shined in the ebony sky.
Thrusting the fear from her mind, she mustered a small spell. Fire flickered in her outstretched hand. It was a simple skill, one of the first mastered and one of the last lost with age — and the ease at which she cast it bolstered her flagging spirit.
Malevolent laughter rang out, far beyond the comforting circle of light created by Allura's small fire.
Allura turned her head in its direction, blinking in an attempt to allow her eyes to adapt sufficiently to the lack of light. Still, despite her best efforts, it took her a few seconds to recognize the figure that emerged from the shadows.
She straightened her shoulders. She was the Princess Royal of Arus and a daughter of the House of Cador. She would rather die before displaying any fear before her enemy.
Haggar emerged from the darkness, stroking her blue cat. "Princess Allura. I am glad you decided to join me. It's been years since I tasted the power of a daughter of Cador."
"Where am I, Haggar?" Allura demanded, her measured tones the result of a lifetime of training and countless generations of breeding. "What sort of place is this?"
"You are in my world, Princess, where my magic rules. We are beyond space and time, as you know it." Haggar said. Amused by Allura's demand, the witch's voice was almost affectionate. "I only hope that the mystical power in your blood is as strong as your spirit, Little Phoenix."
"Why do you call me that?" Allura asked, lifting a golden eyebrow archly.
Haggar shook her head with a small smile. Her golden eyes burned with ancient wisdom and an infinite capacity for malice. "You are the chosen one, Daughter of Cador, the Phoenix..."
The witch reached out a gnarled hand and ripped off Allura's sleeve with the speed of a striking snake, revealing the perfectly formed bird with wings of flame.
Jerking away, Allura gestured sharply, shot a bolt of pure light into the air and watched it land and burn harmlessly at the witch's feet.
The witch laughed and extinguished the flame with a wave of her hand. "You WILL give me what I want, Little Phoenix... whether you want to or not," Haggar said, angling her head. Murky blue fire gleamed at her fingertips as she sent the ground heaving under Allura's feet.
The ground, never really stable to begin with, shifted and swayed violently. The viscous sludge that covered it flowed up Allura's feet and sent her sprawling on the ground..
Haggar threw back her head and cackled once again. "Come, Princess," she said almost kindly. She reached down and touched Allura's shoulder where the phoenix mark lay. "Take my hand. Why must you suffer the pain? You know that the result will be the same anyway."
Allura gasped with pain as the gnarled fingers brushed her shoulder. Haggar's touch was unlike any that she had ever felt before — cold tendrils of evil that seemed to touch her very soul.
Her breath was short and shallow as she whispered words in the secret tongue of Cador, magical incantations passed down from a centuries-old unbroken chain of mothers and daughters. But her desperate attempt failed, her waning power slipped like sand through her fingers.
Sensing Allura's weakening like the predator that she was, Haggar laughed triumphantly, and swung her staff in the air like a sword, in an ancient ritual honoring the dark forces that fueled her malignant powers.
Her voice rose as she began to chant, gaining strength as it echoed across the sprawling emptiness of the landscape. "I call on the powers of Darkness! Xosw'aa, Lord of Terror! Qui-aza, King of Darkness! Yoaz, Who Makes the Dead Weep!"
Wild winds sprang out of nowhere as though in response to her call. The air moaned and howled in an obscene melody. Allura's unbound hair whipped around her body with a force that was almost painful.
A single star appeared on the horizon. Brilliant in its individuality, it blazed brightly on the ebony sky. Its strange light cast a reddish sheen on devastated hills and plains.
Blood began to seep through the silk of the Princess' gown and Allura shuddered, her eyes closing from the excruciating pain that seemed to originate from her soul.
Haggar uttered a hoarse cry — partly a laugh, partly a curse and partly a howl of triumph. The chanting grew louder. "Locktwarr waalori luatha daniyom, Tuailiee waalori tirea dariyu..."
Allura struggled desperately to hold on to consciousness. She sensed an approaching mist and summoned a weak wind in a futile attempt to repel it, knowing in the depths of her heart the threat it posed to her soul.
Haggar laughed in triumph as her voice began to change from second to second — from a roar, to a growl, to a shrill whine — never entirely becoming human.
Her body was equally fluid, constantly shifting from form to form — first becoming a grey-haired old crone, then a statuesque brunette, then a stately blonde.
The mist engulfed Allura and she felt what little strength she had left leaving her body at an appalling rate. Her head spun and she gasped for air as the mist stole her breath.
A single tear trickled from Allura's eye, a crystal droplet of sorrow and regret. The hope that she clung to like a protective talisman was snuffed out.
Allura's limbs became heavier and time slowed. Haggar's voice echoed through her head and filled her universe, forcing the Princess to begin a slow retreat into a safe refuge in the depths of her mind.
Closing her eyes, she summoned an image of Keith — not as she had last seen him, but as he had looked during their interlude in his study. She held on to his image in her mind's eye as she lost the battle for consciousness and slipped, bonelessly onto the ground.