Sheila stood alone in the clearing, her arms crossed and her mind churning with dark possibilities. 'I don't have my sword right now, but that hardly matters,' she thought, a cold glint in her eyes. 'Ice, water, and light magic are more than enough to deal with him. I can make this quick.'
Her smirk faltered slightly as another thought crossed her mind. 'But what about the body? Mystica isn't stupid—she'll suspect me no matter what excuse I give. Ugh.' She rolled her eyes in frustration, pacing the clearing as she worked through the potential obstacles.
Then, like a spark in the darkness, inspiration struck. 'Wait. Her steps halted, and her smirk returned, sharper than before. What if it happens during a fight? If I make it look like an accident, I could frame it as self-defense. No one could blame me for defending myself against a dark magic user. But for that to work, I'll need to make it convincing. I have to show signs of a real battle.'
