The commotion in the main hall of the castle certainly didn't go unnoticed, and while the king's guard were a bit...intimidated by the fifty-foot demoness in their midst, there was at least one person who, upon reaching the scene, maintained a bit of self-control. She was a young woman, with dark skin and flowing golden hair, clad in a flowing robe of white and crimson. Her eyes were an extraordinary jade, and seemed to possess knowledge and experience far beyond her years. As she entered the hall, assessing Lydia's towering form, she didn't feel afraid. She felt righteous.
She was Celeste, white magical priestess. She was second in the line of Lydia's replacements. She'd been raised since early childhood to use her magic to protect others. And she had no fear of the beast in her midst.
She caught Lydia's attention before the gigantic witch could move against the others around her; she felt, more than saw, the entrance of a rival mage. "So," Lydia purred. "This is your weapon to stand against me? A child barely separated from her mother's breast? Delightful!"
"Your doom was sealed the moment you chose this path, my dark ancestor," Celeste noted calmly. "Perhaps, as you die, you'll realize the error of your ways. Take heart in the fact that your folly before this court all those years ago led to the placement of unsullied white mages in your place. Indirectly, at least, you accomplished something of use in your wasted lifetime."
Lydia's playful smile vanished. The arrogance of this girl offended her, and she'd rectify the situation immediately. "I'm done with you, now," she snarled, before raising her hand and unleashing a dark torrent of flame down at the white mage. Those unfortunate enough to be within the blast zone died in agony, burned into ash. Celeste, however, remained unconcerned: an aura of white light surrounded her, halting the flames before they could touch her.
The giant witch hissed, serpent-like. This could be more difficult that she'd originally thought.