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There was an appreciative gleam in Hades’ eyes as he handled the blades, their sharp edges catching the low light in the burrow, casting an eerie glow.
“These blades were the catalyst to this upheaval,” Hades muttered, his voice echoing through the cavernous expanse of the burrow. He carefully wrapped them in a dark cloth, his movements precise and measured. “They will return with me to my palace. Their misuse will not be repeated.”
As he moved, the air seemed to ripple, and with a soft murmur, he disappeared, leaving behind an unsettling quiet. The emptiness was jarring, a stark reminder of the changes that had taken place. They were no longer bound to Belial. They were tied to Ranna now, their fate irrevocably altered. What that would mean for them, however, remained an unnerving mystery.
After Hades departed, the burrow suddenly felt cold and eerie. Ranna turned to leave, her robes rustling against the stone floor, her departure threatening to plunge them into an uncertainty deeper than the burrow’s darkest shadows.
“Get some rest,” she told Nadir, Azimuth, Kobol, and Orias. Her voice held an edge that sent chills down Nadir’s spine, the echo of her words more chilling than any icy wind. She raked them up and down with her gaze, appraising. “My very own clockwork children,” she mused, as if speaking to herself. “You’ll have your work cut out for you soon enough.”
Her dark humor lingered in the air, tainting it with a vague sense of dread. Nadir frowned, her daemon senses picking up the underlying menace in Ranna’s words. As their newly appointed master turned to leave, a knot of apprehension tightened in Nadir’s stomach. The burrow seemed to close in on them as Ranna’s form disappeared, leaving them with nothing but their thoughts and the chilling silence.
When they were alone, they let the gravity of their situation sink in. The cold stone beneath them, the echo of their ragged breaths, the subtle scent of damp earth. Everything heightened their sense of unease.
“Well shit. That could have gone better,” Kobol spat out, rubbing the back of his neck.
“It also could have gone much worse,” Orias added. They all turned to him, but he waved them off. “No visions of worth to mention.”
But amidst the unease and uncertainty, Azimuth turned to Nadir, his gaze full of a newfound respect. “Nadir,” he started, his voice steady and sincere, “you played a dangerous game, one I would never have backed, but it paid off. We owe you for that.”
Nadir shrugged, her mind still reeling from the whirlwind of events. “Let’s just hope the price wasn’t too high,” she replied, her voice echoing in the burrow's silence. She glanced toward the portal Ranna had disappeared through, a sense of dread trickling down her spine.
CHAPTER58
ERIN
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows as Erin made her way to the temple gardens. There, amid the lush foliage and peaceful murmurs of nature, Orias stood waiting, his ever-present shadows dancing around his feet. His figure seemed to blend with the surrounding greenery, a guardian amidst the flora and fauna. Orias was to instruct her on creating daemonic wards, a foreign concept to Erin, who was still learning her god-touched abilities.
Nadir, Azimuth, and Kobol had dispersed across the temple grounds, each tasked with warding their own sections. A strange sense of camaraderie bound them together. They were on the same side now, united against the looming threat of the fae. Erin found comfort in their shared purpose, as she ventured into the magical unknown.
The gardens hummed with serenity, a cornucopia of vibrant flowers and intricate statues arranged with an artist’s care. Orias’ voice broke the tranquil silence, his words lacing through the air.
“Daemonic magic differs from your god-touched abilities, Erin,” he began, his tone gentle yet firm. “It draws from the raw energy of the cosmos, channeled through specific sigils.”
Erin turned to him, her eyes wide with curiosity. “So, it’s like drawing power from the universe itself?”
Orias nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Exactly, though it’s more complicated than that. On the plus side, you don’t have to be a daemon to construct them, but it’s important you understand their origination. They work well against the fae, unlike the comparable sorcerer’s wards mortals typically use.”
The statues surrounding them, ancient effigies of the gods, seemed to watch silently, their stone eyes betraying no disapproval of her newfound path.
“Now,” Orias continued, “let’s move to the practical aspect.” He handed her a small pouch filled with a blend of herbs and soil-infused chalk. “We use this to draw the warding sigils.”
Erin opened the pouch, her fingers brushing against the rough chalk. “How do I do it?” she asked, the anticipation making her voice quiver.
“Watch closely,” Orias instructed, demonstrating a pattern on the ground. The sigil glowed momentarily, a soft light radiating from the earth. “Now, you try.”
Erin bent down and replicated the sigil. Her fingers trembled initially, but steadied as she focused. The sigil beneath her touch glowed, pulsating with a rhythm that resonated with her heartbeat. She looked up at Orias, her eyes searching for approval.
“Well done, Erin,” Orias praised, nodding appreciatively. “With each sigil, the wards grow stronger. Can you feel it?”
She closed her eyes, her senses reaching out. There was indeed a sensation, a whisper of energy that laced through the air. “I can,” she whispered, a newfound confidence lining her words. “I can feel it.”
Erin could feel the surge of energy flowing from the sigils, an invisible shield growing stronger with every ward they set. With each new ward set, Erin’s understanding of daemonic magic deepened. Under Orias’s tutelage, she could craft increasingly complex sigils, each one pulsating with an inner glow that seemed to resonate with the temple itself. By the time they finished for the day, the temple was enveloped in a comforting, invisible shield. It was a delicate yet powerful web of protection that Erin could feel thrumming under her fingertips.
As Erin drew the final swirls of a warding sigil, she sat back on her heels, a sense of satisfaction spreading through her. Orias watched, his lips curling into an approving smile.
“You’re a quick learner, Erin,” he praised. “But there’s a bigger picture we need to consider.”
Erin turned to him, curiosity dancing in her eyes. “What do you mean?”
