Cassandra’s look of amusement swiftly turned into one of shock and horror. [i]”Is he serious? The Pit has been in my family for four centuries. He just sat in my family’s most sacred possession . . . I hate him.”[/i] Cassandra let her mind wander as Jaklo scolded the young imbecile. Cassandra resisted the urge to fume, turning back to Baron. 

She sighed, allowing herself to calm down, she replied to him, “Don’t worry, love, The Pit goes where I go.” She snapped her fingers and the cauldron began to hover just above the ground and inch towards Cassandra, melting the snow beneath it. She marched forward with her comrades, cauldron in tow. A voice began to call to her, a familiar presence had descended upon them, known only to her, or so she believed.

[color=PaleTurquoise][i]“My dear,”[/i][/color] spoke the ethereal voice, [color=PaleTurquoise][i]“keep your wits about you. I have foreseen the dangers you are to face; you mustn’t lose yourself to the foolishness of others.”[/i][/color]

[i]”Thank you, Mary.”[/i] Cassandra thanked the spirit in her mind. If she ever loved anyone, it was Mary. She had looked out for Cassandra since she was eight years old, taught her the ways. Cassandra wasn’t the trusting type, but she trusted her ancestors without question, especially Mary. She knew the hardships of being alone as a young girl, perhaps that’s why she was the one who came to mentor Cassandra. 

Her anger faded, her mind was clear, and Mary departed, leaving Cassandra and her team to fend for themselves.