Adreanna stared around, noting the faces of each one of the many witches within the Coven of Daseh. She saw the painting at the end of the hall. It was a dead woman, a bloody knife in hand.
Blood dripped down her throat like a gaping second mouth.
She has no eyes.
Something about the painting seemed...off. It felt as if, eyes or not, the woman was still staring at her. Her body was thin, most of the flesh seemed to have been eaten off of her.
Underneath it, the plaque read:
"In honor of Daseh Mortima."
"She was my grandmother." Sidero said, observing Adreanna's newfound interest. Adreanna stared at it. She had already ventured a few guesses about what this woman had done to earn herself such a distinguished portrait.
"She gave her life for your coven, didn't she?" Adreanna asked.
Sidero nodded.
"When we first arrived here, we were not a coven. We were just a bunch of lost witches whose magic was just a shadow of what it once was. We had no power, but we persevered. We lost many in our battles against nature.
My grandmother, Daseh Mortima, gave her own life. She tortured herself, and forced us to scrape off her flesh so that we could survive. She gouged out her own eyes, using her magic to sustain herself. We channeled the energy of her pain, drawing our power from her own life force and rekindling our magic."
Sidero said, smiling proudly.
"She sacrificed herself so that others could live."
"She must have been powerful to use her magic in such a way." Adreanna said.
Sidero nodded.
"Her magic was formidable. But sacrifice itself is a powerful tool, when you know how to use it."
Sidero left to speak with the other witches. Adreanna hadn't been around people for ages, and even before the incident, she had never particularly been interested in them.
So instead, she took time to break apart what she had now learned. In her lap, Styx slept peacefully.
Styx? She tried. Telepathic magic was a difficult topic, but being connected by a pact made things easy.
Yes? He grumbled.
Let's take apart what we know, shall we?
Is this some new game?
Something like that. Want to play?
You've already woken me up. Fine.
Well, we found a hunter. He was killed by a Dark God, the name of which is unknown. He had some information which seems to be damaging to the gods.
Is it possible that the witches here killed him?
Perhaps, but that would require some very powerful magic, don't you think? Still...perhaps you're right. It's certainly not something to throw out just yet.
Our spell was hijacked and we were brought here, to the island of the Coven of Daseh, which is guarded by an egregore.
Daseh Mortima was the foundress of the Coven who used sacrificial magic in order to sustain the others.
They claim to save me because I'm the last witch outside of this island.
Well, maybe it's the truth. What do you think?
I don't trust them. I'll tolerate them until they outlive their usefulness.
"Adreanna?" A voice asked, bringing her back to Earth. "Come with me".
It was a male witch. She admired his handsome features before getting up. As she stepped forward, she noticed a young girl standing at the other side of the hall. A dense crowd separated them, but she seemed to be mouthing something to her.
Her hair was black, but a sliver of white gave it variety. The male witch noticed where she was looking. For a few seconds, he looked angry, before transforming back into the"trustworthy" persona he was trying to create.
"Styx, let's go." She said, stroking her familiar's fur. He swore, changing into his avian form.
As they walked, more paintings lined the halls.
"Who painted all this?" She asked. They were all melancholic, depicting brutal, bloody battles and gruesome torture scenes. Some had corpses, others had nothing more than knives drenched in blood.
He chuckled.
"Some of us are a little...shall we say, eccentric. Our coven values the understanding and acceptance of nature's inevitable cycles, including the cycle of death. The artists among us took it literally and made these- "He gestured around "-deathly works of art."
She nodded.
"They're beautiful."
Finally, they reached the chamber. It had a mahogany door, and he pushed it open to reveal a group of thirteen witches. Sidero was among them, seated at the very top.
"High Priestess, I have brought Adreanna Lucian to you."
She nodded, and he escorted himself out. Adreanna noted the faces of the different witches. They were all emotionless, eyes boring into her own. Each of them was seated, and Sidero occupied the highest position of all.
An intimidation tactic. Not exactly glamorous, but effective. Adreanna wanted to glare, but instead stared at the floor. This was a game she would have to play. A coven within a coven, more common than you might think.
At the top was the High Priest or Priestess, and below them was their circle of twelve.
Even further down were the other circles, and finally the general members.
Circles within circles.
Sidero was prideful, and speaking first would be seen as a power-play, undermining her position in the Coven. In a place like this, the more allies, the better.
Finally, they turned to her.
"Hello Adreanna. I hope we weren't too long?" She said.
Smile and wave...smile and wave.
Adreanna managed what she hoped was a polite smile.
"Let me make one thing clear. You being the last witch outside this island does not make you special. Just like everyone else, you'll have to work here. Otherwise, you're just one more mouth to feed."
Adreanna nodded. Get to the point.
Styx fidgeted, clearly just as impatient. His eyes scanned the surrounding witches.
"Connected here by a tunnel lies a grove of pomegranate trees guarded by another spirit. It guards the entrance to the grove fiercely, and we do not wish to dispatch our protector and distract it from its primary task of watching over our island. Your job is simple. Get rid of that spirit, whatever it takes."
Styx scowled, and she could feel the weight of his raven eyes on them.
Don't provoke them. She muttered mentally.
Are they mad?! We just got out of a fight with one creature and now they want us to bumble into another?
That spirit was an egregore, strengthened by these witches. This rival will be far weaker.
If it's so weak, why don't they deal with it themselves?
It's a test, remember? They want to see whether we're equals. They want to see if we can do the things they can do themselves.
At least, she hoped so.
Once more, she traveled through dizzying passageways and labyrinthine corridors until they reached the tunnel. It was dwarfish, forcing her to crouch in order to get in. She took a deep breath as they waited, squeezing through the narrow hole.
Styx wasn't with her.
She tested the door. Locked.
She stared into the darkness. Somewhere in the distance, the eyes of a predator stared back.
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