Dreams
She knelt down and felt a wave of disappointment wash over her.
“You're not in Cion, Laylan. Things in this world are mortal. The magick of Wicca does not work the same,” Artimous announced as he emerged from the bushes, watching Laylan.
Daemon jumped up and spun around, quickly unsheathing his sword, ready to attack. As he had just finished his turn, Laylan had enough time to grab her staff and veered his sword away from Artimous. Laylan stood tall and defensive with her staff ready, standing between Artimous and Daemon. “Put down your weapon,” she spat out in rage. “You shall never bring harm to Artimous. He has suffered enough at the hands of man and he shall suffer no more!” she exclaime
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