Chapter 153: The Pact of Shadows
At the great hall in Araidne's Mansion, the lights aglow with an ominous, crimson hue. Great licking flames danced in the big fireplace, casting shadows on cold stone walls. The smell of smoldering herbs was combined with a metallic streak of blood-a silent witness to the dark rituals being performed.
Araidne stood before the fire with dancing tongues of flame. With her sharp eyes now shining, it would seem, as though she was born from it. Standing next to her, dressed in black, was a sorcerer she had employed some weeks ago, a man whose name long since had been eaten away by oblivion, remembered for something: an aura of dark magic embracing him as if it were his own skin.
Lying in that low, hollow moment, a voice spoke "You've gathered all you needed, Araidne. Sure this is where?
A thin smile curled the corners of Araidne's lips. "Certainty is a luxury I no longer enjoy. But necessity," she stepped closer, dropping her voice to a whisper, "necessity breeds conviction."
With no more words, she went down and her transformation began. Bones cracked, and muscles writhed, until in that instant the woman was gone - only to be replaced by a great black wolf whose fur shone with firelight brilliance of polished obsidian stone. The same eyes, however, blazed: gold eyes aflame with the fury and darkness.
The sorcerer took a step backward, yet piqued by such raw energy. He knew she was trading her doom but he dare not advice her. He waved his hand in the air, and a dark runes etched in the stone floor started to glow faintly as they formed a spiraling sigil. His voice rose, and words heaved up in an incantation ancient enough to stir the air itself. Tremors ran across the ground at their feet.
Before her, the pit to the Underworld yawned open with a deafening crack - a swirling vortex of shadows and crimson light, gaping like the sound of some great, old monster. Araidne cast herself back into human form. Her breathing came ragging herllll in anticipation. Without one moment of hesitation, she plunged into the chasm. Behind her, the portal sealed shut with a deafening boom.
It wasn't the domain of fire and brimstone; Underworld was nothing like Araidne had imagined. Just one waste to infinity bathed by constant twilight, with black ichor cutting in slow rivers across its expanse and obsidian spires reaching up towards the sky crimson-stained, as with teeth from some gigantic god long forgotten.
She strode on, heels clattering loud over the deserted space until she came to a stop before the obsidian gates and the citadel of the Underworld Lord. Demonic monsters stood at the entry, creatures twisted by some dark magic into beings whose empty eyes burnt red. They said nothing. That was unnecessary.
Ariadne was scared as she stepped across the threshold when that was laid before her very soul the weight of innumerable souls: huge, a somber wrought of fire-lit, crimson orbs danced in mid-air. At the far end of it, upon a throne, sat the great Lord of the Underworld-a figure cover by shadows, with his face hidden beneath a crown of bone made out of the skulls of dead kings-ancient but eternal.
Ariadne sank to one knee and bowed her head. "I request the pleasure of your company, Lord of the Underworld."
She spoke like silk on stone: rough, chilling and unyielding. "I do not associate myself with werewolves."
The words cut deeper for the intention of hurt, yet Araidne wasn't one to break this easily. She lifted her face, eyes flashing determination."I have not come continue like my ancestors but I have come to pledge that you trust me to be different."
There was stretched silence, as fragile as pulled glass, and then it was dismissed with one wave of that bony hand, of the shadows around the Lord to shift and continue.
"I pledge my loyalty to thee," Araidne said now, her voice steady as cold seeped into her bones. "By blood, though not by word, in my soul, within all that has to do with me. So I shall serve thee, Hades of the Underworld, in return for granting me that power-to release hell upon Reika."
He leaned forward, and behind his crown, his eyes smoldered like glowing fire. "Reika," he whispered, the word spoken as though forbidden. "You will plotting you own ruin. Reika has great forces protecting her."
Ariadne's jaw tightened. "She is a thorn in my flesh, my Lord; give me strength, and I will destroy her completely."
Laughter rumbled low across the chamber. The laughter sounded so evil, but Araidne wasn't scared."You cannot overpower her. She was created with things stronger than that you. But if you still insist."
He rose from his throne and moved over to Araidne like a nightmare. "There is a price," he hissed, his voice like rustling leaves. "Your soul—and the souls of your most trusted council—shall belong to me."
Ariadne did not flick an eye. She was ready to.sacrifice anything to get powers. "Agreed."
A scroll appeared out from the darkness, scribed in blood and bound with a seal. The pact was written in a few simple brutal words for clarity. Without saying a word, Araidne drew her knife across her palm, letting her blood drip fall on the parchment. The contract crackled as if thirsty to drink her blood.
It is done, said the Lord of the Underworld, he voice sounded like the final sounding of a funeral bell.
And from out of the darkness arose these, demonic giants, each empowered within the seal of the Lord, pulsing within them in dark, soft energy, collapsing to their knees before Araidne in all their loyalty, forms overflowing with raw undistilled hatred.
These are your arms of war, the Lord of the underworld whispered. Under them well for they all under your control now.
Araidne felt a surge of victory in her heart, she was so certain she was going to win this war. Turning, she bowed to thank the Lord of the underworld before disappearing off to her where it all began. Araidne was so determined that Reika was doomed. She rose in from of the wizard with the ring of power in her finger.