Fic-let 3: Renaissance Italy
"Agnella, do you realize we are just about to destroy one of the greatest pieces of art in history?" Bona, an earth magic wiccan, asked her friend in demon fighting.
"Oh, for goodness sakes, Bona, there is a warlock in there. We can't leave it among the general public," Agnella, the young heritage magic witch, told her companion. "Besides, all you have to do is copy it,"
"Practicality here. Three days. That's how much energy is used in the ritual: three days,"
"Don't complain, at least you don't have those pesky personal gain rules,"
"Shush!" She carefully took the large painting off the wall, looking around wildly as she did. She shook her head. "Ok, the coast is clear. Agnella, do your thing,"
Agnella nodded and closed her eyes. "Take this warlock from this world, place it into ours. So we may watch it's bitter end, and kick him in the eye,"
As the man inside the angel's arms disappeared into a swirling vortex, Bona glared at Agnella. "Really? That was the best you could come up with? It didn't even rhyme!"
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Agnella spat back. She barely noticed the tiny smirk on Bona's face.
"You're cute when you're angry, you know that?" Before Agnella could answer, Bona stood a little straighter. "We need to get ready. We'll have maybe five minutes to beat the warlock, do the ritual, and for you to drag me out of here,"
Agnella scoffed. "Please, we could get that done in two,"
"Nellie, I'm being serious. Get off your free spirit butt and get ready for warlock guts!"
"Well, when you put it that way..." No sooner had Agnella moved over to Bona's sighed than a shape-shifter warlock came out and shifted into a normal human form.
"Fine, witches. You want me, you can have me,"
Five minutes later, the warlock was vanquished, the ritual was done, and Bona was snoozing against Agnella's thin frame.
Agnella wrinkled her nose. "Geeze, Bona, what have you been eating?"