Fire and water do not mix for one would extinguish the other. Minah hadn’t felt love for him but a deep, sorrowful pity – for his kind, the good of his kind, who had been ravaged by invading armies.
Nevertheless he was still her dreaded foe and she was his. Love never once entered the sinful equation.
She had protected lost souls and guided them to their rightful place in heaven’s holy twilight. She used all her might to fight him with savage battles of mind over matter. Her mind over his matter. Winning many splendid victories. Once strong and eloquent in her fight. Now she was no more but a seraphic beauty in Sabroh’s fading memory.
Prue hated being helpless. She closed her eyes and astrally projected again. She appeared in the same room but this time she knocked one of the silver, floral screens she had hidden behind on her first projection. Sending it ferruling towards a mirror, crashing into a thousand pieces.
“Aagh, another seven years bad luck.” She wearily screamed.
Sabroh and Kane turned their heads to gawk and immediately Sabroh wafted his scrawny, emblazoned fingers towards her. In a flash the room filled with mystic shafts of hazy violet.
Prue found herself shrinking whilst all around her, above and below the whole room was increasing in size. She tried to project herself back but it was too late. She was a miniature and her body wouldn’t have accepted her back in that state. Prue was there but motionless, in spirit only. Her alternate self was stuck in an hourglass. Standing all alone in time. Prue had underestimated Sabroh’s powers. Thinking she could defeat him on her own.
Phoebe’s dreaded vision had come true.