Adreanna wanted to run, but one look at the witches told her that running was futile. This was their dwelling. Every passageway was under their command. She would gain nothing by running.
What do we do?
I don't know. She thought, her mind running at full speed to think of a plan. Each was more desperate than the last. How could she have been so naïve?
Daseh! It's a goddamn anagram! How was I so blind?! And that painting...
Sidero smiled. Adreanna was itching to skin that smile off her face, but she stood still. These witches were formidable, drawing their magic from a deity almost as old and strong as Hekate herself. Confrontation would be useless. She had to be cunning... patient.
"I know you're confused. Let me explain." The High Priestess began.
"Not all we told you was a lie. My grandmother, Daseh Mortima, did indeed die for our coven. She sacrificed herself, channeling her energy and sealing a pact she'd made with Hades, our Lord.
In exchange for his protection, we serve him with joy. He gives us power and protection, all for a small price. Sign your name in the Book of Hounds, Adreanna, and you will have unlimited power."
Sidero said.
"Why me?" Adreanna asked.
Sidero glared.
"We do not question our master's motives. He is our Protector, and we serve him. It would do you good to do the same."
Adreanna stared at them, weighing her options.
Run? Die
Fight? Die.
She sighed. There was no other choice.
She approached the altar, picking up the pen. Its tip was sharp.
Sidero smiled with glee.
"I knew you were smart. Now, all you have to do is-"
What she had to do, Adreanna never learned. Sidero collapsed to the ground, the pen buried in her neck. The witches screamed, gathering their power and preparing to blast her into oblivion. Fire filled the room, burning their flesh and incinerating their bones.
The smell of smoke filled the air. Adreanna shivered as a familiar cold froze her blood, ten times the norm. She'd used sacrificial magic for the first time, and the effects were astonishing.
She fled, sprinting past doors and running down hallways. All around her, witches panicked as the fires spread. All she had to do was run. She could worry about the egregore and getting off the island later. There had to be other boats, or at least materials to make them, right?
All around her, panicked witches ran, trying to dispel the approaching flames.
Thought after thought rushed through her mind. Freedom was so close...
All of those thoughts stopped the moment she saw the exit. There, blocking her only way to freedom, stood a man. A man she'd seen only in myth and legend. His hair was dark and neat, eyes filled with malice. His handsome face held a cunning glint.
Hades. Lord of the Dead.
He scowled as he stared at the sight. His followers all ran like headless birds, panicking as they failed to drive away the endless fire. He held up his hand. The fire stilled, vanishing into the air. His form was almost physical, but he held a slight translucence that told her this was nothing but a projection.
But his power was still real enough. She gritted her teeth, staring at the exit beyond the door. She was so close...
"Lord!" One of the elder witches said, laying herself prostrate before him. The rest followed, kneeling so low their backs seemed broken.
"Pitiful, all of you. Pitiful." He growled. The shadows darkened, the air instantly froze.
"So much power, and yet a girl with a pen outsmarted all of you?"
His roar rang in their ears.
"M-My Lord, I-"
Blood gushed from the woman's mouth. Slivers of tongue lay strewn upon the floor as the crimson liquid flooded her lips. She wondered what went on in that head of his. Was he really angry, or was this just an intimidation tactic?
Hades gazed at her, his eyes boring into his soul. He could end them without a single word.
Styx took a step back.
"Well then, Adreanna Lucian, I trust you already understand what to do?" He stared at her, his face hard as stone. His eyes dared her to refuse.
She looked around. The other exits, if any, would take roughly the same time it took to reach this one, which was around half an hour. That was useless. The power she gained from killing Sidero had left her, and her own magic was useless against a god. Even if she did manage to wound Hades, the witches would retaliate.
She was surrounded.
What do we do?
We need to accept it, for now. That's the only way we'll survive.
We'd be giving up any freedom we had.
We'll manage. We always do.
"I accept, Lord Hades."
The last thing she remembered was his cold, icy touch.
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