The Blind Witch

I know you hide within the child. I have traveled across hundreds of universes to find you. I will make her submit to me, as I have done you.

The night was dark. There was no moon in the sky, and the stars seemed distant and less bright. There was a chill in the air. It clung to every surface, biting the skin with a frozen kiss.

Out in the western lands, nestled among a snowy mountain range, lies an old castle. It had stood there, unmoving in time. From the outside to the humans and wolves, it looked abandoned. The structure looked as if it was decaying, but it was just a facade. A magical barrier surrounded the castle.

The barrier kept out those who were unwelcome within the grounds. Those that weren’t Requiem; those that did not align with their thoughts of the world. This castle was their sanctuary, their place of worship. But they had safeguards in place. They ensured that whatever happened within the castle's walls was hidden from the world. That every sound stayed within the wall. That the light of the world could not pierce their sanctum.

Deep within the walls, in a room with no windows, lies their sacrifice chamber. In the center was a large stone table. The stone was tilted slightly forward. At the base of the stone were channels that collected spilled blood. It would take the blood and pool it in buckets under the table.

But for tonight, there would be no bloodletting or collecting. But there was a large man on the table. He was a man blessed with dark magic, one who had trained his whole life. His eyes were black, identical to Clarissa's. He laid on the table willingly, waiting for his end.

"The hour is nearly upon us," Dray, the High Priest of the Requiem, said to those in the room.

There were a dozen people there, surrounding the sacrifice table. All were witches, but some were vampires as well. Everyone wore long black robes; only Dray and the High Priestess stood out in their red attire. They stood to the side, away from the others, waiting.

"Do you think it'll work this time?" The high priestess asked Dray. "This will be the third sacrifice."

"The two prior sacrifices were weak. Erebus requires a sacrifice who is strong not only in mind but also in body. But this oracle is a fine specimen, one chosen by Erebus himself. I do not doubt that it'll work this time." He replied confidently.

The man on the table was named Orion. He was born within the Requiem, as were his parents. He was blessed with dark magic, but not from Nyx. Erebus had blessed him, giving him the power of shadows and lightning. But then, once the previous sacrifices failed, Erebus chose Orion to be his oracle.

This meant that Orion was given a piece of Erebus. It also meant that his vision was altered. Gone were his once brown eyes; only pure black remained. He could no longer see the world as it was. Just like Clarissa, he could only see auras and magic.

Since becoming an oracle, he trained for months. He strengthened his body and built up his muscles. He was large comparatively to the other witches of the coven. But he needed to be large; he needed to be strong. Erebus' essence would not survive in anything less.

"Let us begin!" Dray called out as he walked up to the stone table.

Beside Orion was a dagger. The blade was made of obsidian, forged in the old fires of the Thresnora temple. It was a ceremonial knife that was used only for special occasions. Dray picked up the dagger as he looked at the oracle.

"Brother Orion, do you consent to die willingly for Erebus, our God of Darkness?" Dray questioned in a loud, booming voice.

"I willingly give my life to him," Orion replied with a smile.

"Your sacrifice is appreciated, Brother Orion," Dray said as he touched Orion's head. "You have spent your life in service of Erebus, something that has not gone unnoticed. You shall be rewarded in death. And should this work, your name shall be remembered for generations to come."

"You honor me, High Priest," he replied as he held his hand to Dray. Dray reached over and gripped it.

"It is time. Go to death with pride," Dray commanded. "Become one with the darkness, become one with the void. Join our brothers and sisters in the eternal; join the shadows and consume."

"Atenulus Xaergo," the group began to chant. "Renlavan Auxum."

"Atenulus Xaergo. Renlavan Auxum."

They repeated the words over and over again. Dray took the dagger in both hands and held it high above his head. Orion spreads his arms and closes his eyes. He was ready for death, accepting it willingly. Dray stabbed the dagger into Orion's heart.

"Atenulus Xaergo. Renalavan Auxum."

Orion screamed as a billowing cloud of smoke rushed from his body. Dray put his hands on the top of the dagger's handle, forcing the blade further into his heart. Dray stumbled backward as the smoke blurred his vision.

"Atenulus Xaergo. Renalavan Auxum."

Suddenly, the cloud of smoke stopped rushing from his body. It froze in time, lingering in the air. Then, the smoke and darkness poured back into his body. There was a roar as his body reabsorbed the smoke. The chanting stopped when the body sat up. The man gasped as he filled his lungs with air, seemingly for the first time.

Everyone fell to their knees and bowed to him. The man slowly put his feet on the floor. He wiggled his toes, taking a moment to enjoy the cold against his skin. The witches and vampires lowered their heads when he stood. Orion was now larger, taller. And his skin, smoke constantly emitted from him like steam. But this was not Orion anymore. He was dead. What remained of his body was now Erebus: a god now reborn into the body of a mortal.

"My lord," Dray greeted as his forehead touched the stone floor. "Welcome to our meager world."

Erebus took another deep breath as he slowly moved the joints across his body. He stretched out his muscles. Even though Orion had been up and moving just a few minutes prior, Erebus had not been in a body for over a thousand years. His black eyes looked around. Auras and magic. This was not how he saw when he was in his god form, but the body of his oracle limited him.

His eyes finally settled upon the silver outline in front of him. It was Dray.

"Rise," Erebus' voice echoed through the chamber.

Dray quickly stood to his feet, but his eyes refused to meet Erebus' gaze.

"Dray," Erebus said with his booming voice. "You have done well."

"Thank you, my lord," Dray replied with a smile. Being complimented by a god, by your god, it was overwhelming and exciting all at once.

"Tell me of the child," Erebus instructed.

"Clarissa still resides at Haerford Palace," Dray explained. "At your command, we have left her be, only watching from a distance. We know that she is strong, but it seems that she has been conservative with using her powers. In the years we have watched her, she has not demonstrated anything as destructive as the sun that she created."

"She hides," Erebus remarked. "She fears that I can track her by her magic. But she is not wrong. Every time her darkness comes into the light, I see her."

"What are your orders?" Dray questioned. "Should we take her and bring her here to you?"

"No. I am still weak." Erebus replied as he attempted to look at his hands. "I need time to gather my strength. But the child goes nowhere. Keep your eyes on her and leave her be. I want her to have a false sense of security."

“As you wish,” Dray said with a bow.

Erebus flexed his hands, summoning tiny sparks of lightning. The lightning cracked as it wrapped around his hands. He held his right hand out, attempting to shoot a bolt at one of the coven members, but nothing came out.

“Weak indeed,” he mumbled to himself.

He held out his left hand, summoning darkness to his palm. Something slowly materialized in his hand; it was a handle. As he gripped it, a large black blade began to form. He pulled his sword closer to him, inspecting it with his fingers. Without his sight, he was unsure how the blade looked. He wondered how his mighty sword had faired after many years of not being used.

But as he ran his fingers along the edge, he could feel the sharpness against his skin. The blade was wide and long. At the time of its creation, it was the largest sword of darkness. He created it himself, using the power from a black hole to mold it. It was his favorite weapon; the kills and darkness he would create with it were remarkable.

He smiled, pleased that he could at least summon his sword. This body of his was still fresh, still young compared to his actual age. It would take time to gather the magic that he needed. But he was not stressed. He had spent thousands of years searching for Nyx, and now she was close. He would not rush it. He would not risk losing her, not again. He needed her.

Sorry, I think this is the shortest chapter of the book!

But song time!

We Become the Night by Motionless In White. Really this album has several songs that I have listened to while writing this book!