The Witch prepares a spell in her move towards joining the fight with the servitor of the Central Sun. Connecting with the underground forest filled with all manner of life, she requests three ingredients, sulfur, salt, and mercury. The Fairy forest obliges.

Mere moments after making her request, three decently large ants crawl out from deep within the labyrinth of books bearing one container each. The Witch locks eyes with the ant carrying the container labeled with the symbol of mercury and she feels the presence of That-Came-From-Before.

The Witch knows the Mold still lives, and she smiles. Her crew is still alive and still fighting, she thinks, which fills her heart with further determination. One by one the Witch collects the ingredients brought to her and arranges them for her spell.

From the point closest to the servitor the Witch, using her new staff grows a wooden wheel for use as a magical circle. On the hub of the first wheel the Witch pours the mercury. Turning away from facing the servitor, the Witch goes left and pours the salt on the second wheel she grows.

Crossing from left to right and forming a triangle base the Witch forms a third and final wheel whereupon she pours the sulfur. Taking her position behind the base of the triangle, the Witch begins her chant. She whispers her words, careful not to betray her location too early.

A pyramid of living energy forms over the wheels, the edges of the upright sides emanating from the hubs. As her spell reaches its crescendo, three tree trunks burst forth from the hubs as well, and these trunks grow fast. Buds grow into leaves and flowers, with the flowers beginning to bloom.

The woody plants follow the trajectory of the pyramid of energy meeting at the pinnacle and forming a triple helix with their trunks. This tightly woven plant surges forward in the direction of the servitor, and the Witch follows her work.

The servitor of the Central Sun recognizes the attack as the Witch's tree slams into the shield of light the servitor cast to protect herself. The tree is not deterred, with the trunk forming roots that spread over the barrier and begin consuming the light energy.

The roots and trunk glow with the consumed light of the Central Sun. The servitor sees this and takes a ready stance, her short sword morphing into a broadsword in a flash of light. Soon, one root, then another, then many all at once penetrate the light barrier with large holes forming.

The Witch steps into the arena cleared by the servitor, wand pointed at the armored woman. Casting another spell, the Witch utilizes the solar energy within her plant's roots and trunk to accelerate the growth of the tree.

This magical tree transmutes the light into part of itself, bathing the interior of the still mostly standing barrier with pollen to the point the servitor can no longer see the Witch in the haze of yellow-green particulate. The servitor takes a defensive stance.

The armor protects the servitor from breathing in the pollen, but without her sight she must rely on sound and sensing of the magical energy. The pollen is rich in the magic of the Central Sun and the Witch, blocking and confusing all senses but the ability to hear.

Continuing to cast spells, the Witch stirs up a cyclone within the barrier of light, the noise of rushing air and pollen particulate impacting the servitor's suit of armor taking even hearing from the warrior of the Central Sun. The servitor stands firm in the maelstrom, but is continually battered.

Summoning vines from the trunks of the tree now running along the inside rim of the barrier, the Witch in fluid movement commands the vines to grab onto the servitor and her weapon, pulling her to her knees.

The servitor, tied down whispers, "Enough."

Exerting herself, the servitor breaks her vine bonds and throws her hands in the air. Calling all the energy of the Central Sun now outside of herself back to herself, a ball of light forms within the palms of her hands.

The light of the Central Sun coalesces, a localized star forming from the gaseous light. Quanta of light rip violently from inside the Witch's plants, tearing asunder the portions of the magical tree with consumed light from the Central Sun.

The barrier of light itself flickers and fails as the energy is called back to the servitor. The formation of a miniature sun in the hands of the servitor throws off great waves of energy, and with the collapse of the barrier, these waves of energy blow the pollen away.

The pollen scatters throughout the surrounding library, clearing the air once more. The Witch's summoned maelstrom is itself overcome by the forming sun in the servitor's hands. The Witch swears under her breath as the gathering light grows larger and larger, ceasing for a moment.

With a pause, the light of the forming sun collapses on itself, forming a single point of burning white light. The servitor takes that point in her right hand and crushes it within her fist, the light entering her, surging up her arm and through the rest of her body.

The lines of light energy glow as the servitor stands, turning to face the Witch, "Now our fight begins."