Elyssara pushes through the skeletons.
“Seren! Are you okay?” Elyssara asks, panic thick in her tone.
But Seren ignores her. She spins around as the witches step through after her.
Lara.
Caev.
Daphinia.
Their faces, as always, are neutral. Unreadable.Infuriatingly fucking dull.
Seren’s voice comes out as a snarl. “I want my question answered,” she hisses.
Lara begins walking straight at Seren like she expects her to move out of the way. But Seren softens her knees, bracing herself like a trained fighter, and she does not budge.
Lara huffs a sigh of irritation, expression almost bored. “The Widow is yet to inform you if you’ve passed. You’ll get your question when you’ve been assessed for the Harrow The Widow gave you.”
“No,” Seren snarls. “Fuck The Widow. And fuck your rules, Lara.”
Lara still doesn’t react.
But Elyssara steps up behind Seren, light blazing through her veins in preparation for whatever this is.
“No,” Lara responds, and moves to step around Seren.
A golden thread shoots out from Seren’s palm, and weaves into a loop.
A noose.
A golden noose.
Just like the one she made for Rhyven.
Holy fucking Stars.
She’s really doing this.
Elyssara crouches low, ignoring the pain flaring in her side.
Light simmers in her palm.
Then…
The black ocean stills.
The bones stop swaying.
And a hush falls over The Perils.
Lara’s lips lift into a smirk. And gasps echo from inside the cavern.
A single thread of black liquid emerges from the mouth, threading through the air like liquid rope, and heading directly for Seren. But she does not seem afraid.
Seren’s curious eyes dart around, trying to make sense of whatever is going on.
Elyssara moves to obliterate it with her magic, hands drawing back, but Seren lifts a hand.
