To Bewitch a Devil

He shouldn't have gone so hard on her, because knowing Lydia, she would have said everything with a sprinkle of dramatic gore, and Neera ever so softhearted, would be crushed.

Now he didn't know how to undo it.

The chants lowered, and the sizzling of energy as well. The witches were soon to be done.

It didn't take long before their hands lowered, and when their spirits returned back into their bodies, they let out a collective groan of both success and tiredness. Anna gathered the witches together, their conversation too low and jumbled to reach Zavian's ears.

"Are we supposed to trust them to do that?" Azriel asked.

The circle broke off before Zavian could answer. Freya had stood and joined the demons, and waited expectantly as they looked at the long sword with an unfamiliar crest burning at its hilt. It was more plaque than a sword, and Anna held it out to them.

"This is what we have been working on," Anna jerked her head back to her witches. "It was fashioned from the portal of the Underland. It is the only way to stab and kill Aloysius, once and for all."

"Can't any sword just do that?" Freya asked.

"No, it took us weeks to even fashion this one," Anna said. "If the leader is killed, the army is thrown into chaos. All that is needed is to stab his heart with this."

A soft crunch of grass reached Zavian's ears, and he knew Neera had come to listen.

"I'd do it," Freya said, reaching for the sword.

"No," Zavian took it before she did, and studied it up close. It was weightless, almost impossible to believe it could do anything fatal.

"I sent him there," Zavian said. "And I will end him completely this time."

Anna bowed. "We have more potions for your soldiers and horses, and we promise to do the best we can in fighting this war with you." Anna raised her head, her expression troubled. "But there is something we noticed."

"And?" Zavian prompted.

"Something is off," Anna said. "And we all felt it. There is always a balance of energy when light touches the dark, but the darkness of the Underland didn't reach out to us. And the Underland feeds on the chaos of its inhabitants."

"So what does that mean?" Freya asked.

"It's almost like...," Anna glanced over to her other witches. "The Underland seems to be... empty."

"Empty?" Freya asked. "But that would mean...," she trailed off, looking at her brother.

"He's here," Zavian completed.

....

Penelope watched the men go in and out of the estate, lugging weapons upon weapons. Horses neighed as they followed obediently, and yells of orders were tossed from different ends of the courtyard. Yet she couldn't find her Master among them from where she viewed them from the balcony.

She ran down the stairs, deciding to do the search on the ground floor. It was a lot more chaotic than it looked. Something had happened, and the war was looking real now. It sickened her in her stomach.

She wished she could see Neera, but everyone was swamped with duties and every human was told to stay indoors. Penelope was aware of what would follow next, they would all be hoarded in the underground rooms of the demons and kept till the war would be over. Every Kingdom had those, and some had high towers, but those were less safe. Please visit 𝐟𝒓𝚎𝘦we𝐛𝐧𝐨vℯ𝚕. c𝘰ｍ

"Move!" Someone yelled behind her, Penelope stumbled back, unaware, and tripped on something. As her hands flailed out in front of her, reaching for anything to hold on to, solid hands were behind her, catching her just in time.

"You shouldn't be here," Came Azriel's voice in her ear.

She turned around to face him. "I was looking for you."

Azriel's hand slid into hers, and he tugged her in his direction. Navigating the people with him leading was easier, and they parted quickly as he walked the path back to the main mansion.

Inside, Azriel drew Penelope into one of the smaller chambers on the ground floor. Once the door closed, blocking most of the noise, he gave her his attention.

"What's so urgent that you had to go through those people?" He asked, his questions coloured with anger.

"I...," She let out a shaky breath. "I just had to see you."

Azriel noticed how her entire body trembled, and his concern quenched his anger.

"Pen," he held her hands in his, and they were cold. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," Pen said, appreciating the warmth of his hands. "I'm just...I'm so scared." Her gaze slid up to his. "I am so scared, my Lord."

"The war would be over before you know it," Azriel said. "We have the weapons, the soldiers. We've made a lot of preparations..."

"It doesn't guarantee anything, my Lord!" Penelope cried out, her vision swimming in water. "I can't...sleep, I can't eat. I can't bear the thought of losing you. I am so scared."

Azriel was quiet for a long while and Penelope wondered if he heard her. She didn't look up and allowed the tears to roll down, dripping on the carpet, and one hit Azriel's shoe.

"Pen," he called her name. "You won't lose me."

"You have to promise me," she clutched unto his tunic, desperate. "Promise me you'd come back to me. Promise me with everything you have."

His eyes danced across her face. "For you, Pen, I'll be back."

"Good," she said and gave a small laugh out of nowhere. "Good. And I am sorry for running away, for rejecting you. I'm sorry it took me this long to say it, and maybe it's also because of the war, but it gives you a newfound appreciation for the lives around you. But, I do...I do love you, my Lord. I just didn't want to admit the truth, so I ran from it instead."

Voices droned on from behind the door, and behind Azriel, the door slammed open. Penelope didn't look at Azriel's face, but instead at the dark-clothed soldier behind him.