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Still, something drew her closer. As she neared, there was a glint as something caught the light, bringing her gaze down to the short stack of books and scrawled notes hidden beside the chair. She had missed those in her search before, but a spark of hope fired through her again as she leaned to pick up the two books.
A sheaf of papers fell out of one and she picked it up, instantly enamored with the sight of her grandmother’s sprawling handwriting. Quickly, she scanned the notes, her mind snapping to attention as she read his name. Its name. The name she had been looking for and dreading finding all at the same time. Eidolon.
Rapidly, she scanned the text, her heart sinking deeper and deeper with every word she read. Her grandmother had obviously done a lot of research on the topic, and it showed in her words. She wrote of how the evil spirit had first come to exist.
Once, just an average man with an average life, he had traded it all; his home, his family, his very soul, to the darkest of black magic in exchange for vast power. But it had cost him dearly, and unable to contain the newly gotten power, he had changed. Losing whatever small shreds of his heart and his mind he had left to him forever.
Now, he was nothing but pure darkness, drawn to create chaos and torment. His only reason for existence.
Hazel continued to read, unaware of the tears that had started to trail one by one down her pale cheeks as the harsh words registered. Her grandmother mentioned the ‘deliverer’ several times, which Hazel deduced must mean herself, and she also told of how the dark spirit, once freed, would only have until the next harvest moon to live unless he shed the last unwilling drop of blood from her. From Hazel. He had to kill her to ensure his own continued life.
Fear raged through her, storming across her mind as it sank in. The next harvest moon, she thought quickly, was less than three weeks away. And Eidolon would be desperate to reach her, to destroy her, before then.
A new, sudden thought ricocheted through her already troubled mind. What would that mean for Jayce and Nika? Would they also have only a few short weeks to live because of their cursed prison? Her stomach lurched and she squeezed her bright violet eyes shut tight as pain thundered through her. Would her life mean their deaths?
As Hazel struggled with this new onslaught of possible consequences, a loud noise coming from downstairs had her jumping back to her feet and scrambling out of the room, the sheaf of papers containing her grandmother’s notes left in a scattered pile on the floor next to the green chair.
Hazel made it down the stairs and into the living room in record time. She stepped into absolute chaos.
“…now, if you two will just come with me. The council has decided it would be best to keep you under their…protection until we know more about this delicate situation.” The Mother Guardian was saying.
“Wait, what? What is going on?” Hazel asked as she frowned around the suddenly crowded living room, her eyes crinkling in concern.
“We are not going anywhere,” Jayce said calmly at the same time. Nika stood to one side, shaking his head in agreement.
“I’m really afraid that you are. It will be safer for you, for us,” Elizabeth paused, sharing a look between them, “It will be safer for Hazel, as well.”
Jayce and Nika looked at each other for the briefest of moments before finally following one of the council members out of her house. Hazel immediately moved to follow them but was stopped by the Mother Guardian and two of the other council members that had arrived with her.
“Elizabeth, what the hell is going on? Why would they have to leave? Where are you taking them?” The questions shot out rapidly, one right after the other, and at the Mother Guardian’s arch look, she realized also with no regard for her position as coven leader, especially in front of members of the highest council.
The council was the governing body that ruled over all the covens in North America, and Hazel had yet to show her respects as she was so disturbed by the two men suddenly leaving under duress.
“I, uh…I apologize, Mother Guardian, council members,” Hazel said hastily as she burned a bright, embarrassed red.
They all stared at her for a long, painful moment before one of the council members, Hazel believed her name was Margaret Roark, spoke again, her voice notably cold coming from that austere face.
