Athan
I set the crystal bowl down on the coffee table and poured a cup of spirit water into it. It glistened like the Lake of Souls, beautiful and dangerous. Letting the water settle, I fetched myself a cup of coffee from the counter.
Of course, I could conjure it if I’d wanted to, but that way of living was boring. Sometimes I felt as lifeless as those lost souls that swam through the lake. Always floating, but never getting anywhere.
I plopped down on the sofa and took a sip of the cold liquid. I hated hot coffee. Everything in Hell was always incessantly, needlessly hot. Not that I couldn’t change it if I wanted to, I could. But fire and brimstone were expected, so I kept the blazing walls up mostly for dramatic effect.
Waving a hand over the water in the crystal bowl, I uttered an incantation. It swirled, clouded for a moment before clearing. Keeping an eye on Xandrea wasn’t a favorite task on my to do list, but my brothers didn’t care as much as I did.
It’s so boring around here. Let her wreak some havoc.
It’s been eons since we saw the outside world. What’s the harm in letting her have some fun?
None of them seemed to understand the importance of balance. Or if they did, they’d become so numb from their monotonous duties that they didn’t care. So, it had become my responsibility to watch her every movement and ensure that she didn’t do anything disastrous, which also meant watching the opposing team.
Humans had always fascinated me, the way they differentiated between their classes, often casting their own race off for being different or poor. Yet they all ended up in the same place when they died, floating in the Lake for eternity. How ignorant they were, the little fools.
Yet the girl had been different. She hadn’t been afraid when I’d met her, nor did she look at me like I was a beast. Most humans despised and feared anything different from themselves.
But not her. No, she was a breath of fresh air.
So, when I saw her face shimmer into view in my divination bowl, I was pleasantly surprised. She stood next to the Feyrie King at the edge of the Cauldron, her eyes bloodshot, as if she’d been crying. Blood coated her gear, and I understood what must have taken place. A mother’s sacrifice, the same one Gaia had made for all of her earthly children.
The goddess of chaos stood on the mountaintop and raised her arms, the wild wind tearing at her hair and dress. In front of her, the iron cauldron roared, a bubbling black liquid reaching up to kiss her elbows, no doubt giving off a sickly-sweet steam. Inside my bowl, her eyes burned with untamed fire as she cried out in ancient tongues, a language I was all too familiar with, but had been lost to those that still walked the earth. She tossed something into the vat. Blood coated her hands as she released the fresh heart into the cauldron.
An ear-splitting clap echoed through the air and the earth rocked violently, the vessel seemingly angry with what was bestowed upon it. A fire lit beneath the massive pot, and Hell quaked as it sang to life and called to its kin.
I watched as the liquid inside the massive pot began to roil and churn, as if alive, before it rose up in an inky tornado of swirling darkness. As sparks snapped from the side of the vessel, the viscous liquid shot up into the air, blocking out all light.
The human girl sank to her knees, her eyes wide with fear as creatures made of shadow and smoke emerged from the hole in the sky. Xandrea’s offering had opened a rift into the world, one that contained monsters that fed on panic, pain, and the many other deadly sins.
Pandora’s box.
The Fey King placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder to comfort her. It was a curious thing to witness. Something about him had felt familiar when he’d been presented in front of me. Not just his face, but what lay beneath it. Like his soul was entwined with another. I peered into his soul and found my sibling sitting prisoner behind a barred wall, banging his fists against it.
With the cauldron alive and singing, the Sword returned its melody, humming from where it hung over my mantle. The Goddess of Chaos was close to having the ultimate power, which meant I couldn’t let her get hold of the other Articles. I snapped my finger, and the Sword quieted down.
Safe in my hands for now.
Looking back into the bowl, I watched the girl clench her fists, determination written on her face. The dried blood plastered on her face told me everything I needed to know about her resolve.
It had been that expression that had given me the confidence to believe in a frail human girl in the first place and had ultimately been why I’d been willing to reveal the Sword’s location. It was up to her to put the puzzle pieces together to defeat Xandrea.
Sure, I could smite the devil goddess off the face of the earth myself, but what was the fun in that?
Perhaps my brothers had a point after all.
Sometimes, it was better to watch Hell break loose than to intervene.