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Demoness 2 - Chapter 81 - Ethical Cross
🕑 Added 2024-03-19 05:27:54 +0000 UTCElania’s footsteps echoed through the hallway as she left the third cell block behind, a trail of golden light motes floating in her wake.
The screams and pleas of the monks still rang in her ears, but she pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand. Each step felt heavier than the last.
The artifice light flickered and dimmed as she passed, the excess [Power] crackling and interfering with their delicate stores.
Elania barely noticed.
The final cell block was just like the last, the terrified faces of the monks peering out at her from the shadows.
They huddled together, their robes dirty and tattered, their eyes wide with fear. Some of them babbled. Others clawed at the stone. Or pried at the bars.
Elania didn’t ask for permission as she approached the cell door, the steel shrieking in protest as she took hold of it and slid it open.
The monks scrambled back, pressing themselves against the far wall as Elania stepped inside. The air was thick with the stench of fear and desperation, the monks’ labored breathing filling the cramped space.
One tried to rush past her. She took his head.
The golden light illuminated her features and filled her eyes with the callousness of the divine.
“Please,” one of the monks begged, his voice trembling. “Have mercy.”
Elania’s gaze snapped to the monk, her eyes narrowing. “Mercy?” she asked, her voice cold and flat. “Where was your mercy when you attacked? When you tortured Yolani?”
The monk flinched, his face paling. “I… I have no idea what you are talking about,” he stammered. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”
Elania’s lips curled into a sneer. “You chose to follow a path of destruction and death. And now, you’ll pay the price.” Her words felt hollow, but there was no turning back.
She stepped forward, her hand outstretched, the golden light motes swirling around her fingers.
The monks cowered, their eyes wide with terror as they realized what was about to happen. Elania’s heart clenched, a part of her recoiling at the thought of what she was about to continue.
She pushed the feeling aside.
Golden threads flashed out, punching through skulls with ease. Screams were cut short as they weaved through the huddled flesh, leaving the bodies behind to fall to the ground. Immediately the mass began to disintegrate, her will pulling away the [Divinity] that had suffused them.
She moved to the next group, and the next. The process repeating itself as she cleared the cell.
The rush of [Divinity] flowed through her veins like molten fire.
She paused as she neared the last four monks huddled in the corner, recognition sparking in her eyes as she met the gaze of one of them. “Taniel,” she said flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.
Taniel gaped at her, his arms wrapped protectively around his companions, who wept silently into his robes.
His shock quickly morphed into a glare, his eyes burning with hatred. “Demon,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “I should have destroyed you when you were weak.”
Elania’s lips curled. “You contributed to making me what I am now,” she said.
Taniel recoiled as if she had struck him. He recovered quickly.
“Joren helped you,” he snarled, jabbing a finger at her. “You should have been thankful.”
A harsh laugh escaped Elania’s lips. “Joren? He helped torture the woman I love.” She leaned in close, her eyes glowing with a malevolent light. “I threw him into the abyss and obliterated his body.”
Taniel’s scream of rage filled the cell as he launched himself at her.
Her hand lashing out and slapping his head clean off his shoulders.
It hit the wall with a sickening crunch, his body crumpling to the floor in a heap.
She turned to the remaining monks, their faces pale with terror as they cowered before her. She ended it swiftly and the golden light of their [Divinity] flowed into her, their bodies withering and crumbling to nothing in seconds.
Elania turned and stormed out of the cell, her footsteps echoing through the hallway as she made her way toward the Celestial Engine room.
The mix of [Power] and [Divinity] swirled around her like a cloak, the wings on her back curling around her, as if to shield her from the weight of what she had done.
The Celestial Engine’s chamber was empty as usual. Elania skipped the small elevator and floated down through the space on her wings, landing by the control room’s instruments.
The pedestal loomed before her, its surface glowing. She moved towards it with purpose, her mind focused on the task at hand.
A flicker of movement caught her eye, and Keswick materialized from the shadows. Elania turned toward her immediately.
Keswick’s face twisted into a sneer. “The Magisters made a mistake trying to work with you,” she spat, her voice dripping with contempt.
A prickling sensation of danger crawled up Elania’s spine. Instinctively, she began to form a light spear in her hand; the energy crackling at her fingertips.
But before she could consider unleashing it, Keswick opened her arms wide.
The room erupted in a blinding flash of light, and ghostly chains whipped out from the walls, snaking towards Elania.
The chains latched onto her throat, legs, and arms, yanking her off balance. Her summoned spear dissolved harmlessly.
Elania stumbled, the metal biting into her skin as she struggled against the restraints.
Keswick’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “The conclave isn’t the only ones who know how to deal with out-of-control celestials,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. “Whether they’re true or demonic copies.”
Elania’s eyes widened as realization dawned. The geas sigil on Keswick’s forehead was conspicuously absent.
Gritting her teeth, she strained against the bonds, her arm reaching for the collar around her neck. Her fingers scrabbled at the metal, desperately trying to find purchase, to tear the accursed thing apart.
Keswick watched her struggle, a cold gleam in her eyes. “You’ll pull your head off before you can find a way to remove it,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless. “You’ll be a good little demon from now on and obey.”
Elania coughed, the chains constricting her throat. “How?” she rasped out, her voice hoarse and strained.
Keswick’s glare was filled with unadulterated hatred. “You don’t even know how your own magics work, demon,” she snarled. “You slew Bannon and freed me from your compulsion yourself.”
Elania struggled, but it was impossible. Her strength was draining fast.
Her eyes slid down to the pedestal.
She reached down and touched it with the last of her freedom.
Comments
Jonathan Wint
So that's why they wanted her to kill.
