When the Sorceress heard that she would be overthrown one day by a child in a no name village, she did not react violently.. She did not kill the messenger, nor strike down the divinder who had the premonition of a little brat ruining everything, no. She knew far too well that doing any of those things would just seal her fate as “Evil Enchantress” (despite the fact that she is not an Enchantress or a witch). Instead, she calmly called the head of her guard and planned a siege of the village. If she was going to have someone overthrow her, it was going to be in her control, not some brat who is a “Savior of the people”. Thinking those words only made her want to vomit. How could someone come and ruin her beautiful world and all of her effort to clear the world of horrible rulers? And how was she the heartless one for not wanting it to be ruined? 

So here she was, standing in front of a burning village; fire always made her happy, the smell, the sound of the cracking wood and the screams of people not yet dead. She was waiting for her minions to come back with what they came for. Soon enough, she was in front of five children of varying ages. They were screaming and crying in the soldier’s arms, all except for one. A small baby with bright green eyes, staring out at the fire with delight and giggles.  She was even reaching out to touch the burning cleanse, enamored by it and its power. The Sorceress drew closer to her, hooking her umbrella on her arm to take the small child from the silent soldier. 

She made the small girl look at her directly in the eyes–something that made hardened warriors shake and fall to their knees to beg for mercy–and she giggled. She didn’t look away or start crying, she just squealed with delight and reached out to touch the wixen’s face. She looked beyond happy despite her family being dead and four other crying children behind her. 

The Sorceress was confused, but continued to examine the small child until something caught her eye. A bright pink streak in the little hair she had, as well as a small mark on the side of her head; a symbol reserved only for those blessed by Lady Magic herself. 

She immediately waved the other children away to be killed as she cradled the small girl in her arms. She was sure that this girl was the one destined to overthrow her, so she simply would care for her herself and grow her up to be a proper ruler of the kingdom and keep the idiot people from ruining everything she worked so hard to build by putting awful thoughts in the darling little baby’s head.

As the other children were led away, still screaming and crying, The Sorceress simply held the happy girl. She summoned a small ball of magic to her hand and showed the girl her first glimpse of the very thing she would learn to harness and use to rule in her adopted role. It lit up the baby’s face as well as the Sorceress’, revealing the bright purple streak in her own black hair that was previously hidden in the dim light of the fire.

The distant screams of the lost innocent lives finally faded out as every single one of them perished in the fire or the wixen’s soldiers. The Sorceress would make sure that she would have guards continue to check the surrounding area for any survivors and keep an eye on the land so there was absolutely no chance of another child trying to overthrow her and ruin her and her child’s life. 

As she cradled the baby in one arm, she pulled her umbrella off of the other and pointed it at the sky, watching as a purple stream of light shot out, visible to everyone miles away if they were even away. She cooed at the squealing child as she stepped into the light, letting her look forward as both of the chosen walk into the next step of their lives.

“Welcome home, Meteora.”