Arthur started walking home. His earlier boredom had calcified into a cold, sharp calculation. He scanned the eerie scene one last time, devoid of any human feeling.
"The Dark Witches are displaying an unusual coordination," he stated flatly, speaking more to himself than to the wind. "I think what i need might be in the spellbook, dark witches even among themselves can't be trusted I have to find my own way to become powerful and unstoppable."
He turned and strode away, completely untouched by the fight he just had with the witches. In his confidence and purely intellectual magical focus, he failed to notice that his leather wallet had been jarred loose during the physical teleportation and now lay unnoticed on the dark, damp earth.
When Arthur arrived at his mansion, he immediately spotted a young woman a familiar girl pacing furiously in the main hall.
