⚔️ The Betrayal ⚔️

"What of the Angelics guarding her cell?" Verrin demanded, stomping up the wooden stairs. She kept her face void of emotion yet inside she was anything but. The events that had occurred tonight thrashed against her mind; a barrage of dangerous possibilities now playing endlessly in her mind. Her imagination was running wild, and could not be stopped.

"Dead. Not one survived, Verrin," Allise whispered incredulously, her eyes betraying the same terror Verrin was trying her best to hide. "Their bodies were discovered by the women who were supposed to relieve them of their shift. If they had just arrived sooner they—"

"Would be dead too," Verrin interrupted. She stopped climbing the stairs and turned to face the younger woman with a stern look. "I realize you are a relatively new to your Whites but this... this thing that killed those women; she's too dangerous to be left unchecked. She needs to be recaptured immediately." 

Allise's face lost all colour. "Mother and Maiden . . . who was this person?"

Verrin climbed the last few steps and opened the door, revealing the massacre inside. The room was rather spacious, decorated with what had once been fine satin and textured tiles. The wooden furniture had been obliterated, chunks of it scattered across the room.

Then there was the blood, and the flesh.

She heard Allise gasp as she, too, saw the sickening sight. Verrin gestured to the room. "A monster. One of the last remnants of a long forgotten age." She felt her stomach churn as she forced herself to look away from the deformities she had once called friends.

As she stood in the doorway, her head turned away, the smell of burnt flesh and dark magic caused her nostrils to flare. She could almost taste the soot, and the evil that infected the room. It seemed to strangle the air, masking it in an almost tangible mist.

Steeling her emotions, Verrin forced herself to take a step into the prison. Then another. And through the sunlight that poured in from the window she could see the remains of several bodies scattered throughout the room; each one killed in a way more gruesome than the last. Her hands curled into white-knuckled fists as she made her way across the bloodied floor and inspected their bodies with a heeled boot. Goosebumps began crawling their way up her spine as she touched a mysterious piece of flesh that had somehow, someway been attached to a human.

Bile began rising in her throat as she dropped the slimy piece of detached skin and she had to cover her mouth with the back of her hand to stop herself from heaving. In all her years hunting the Undying, this was by far the most disturbing sight she had ever witnessed. Though that fact only fuelled her need to capture those that aided in this monster's escape.

"How did we stop her before?" Allise asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Verrin noticed the slight shake in the other woman's hands, and she couldn't be sure if it was from fear or anger. Anger could be harnessed. Weaponized. Fear was a senseless instinct created by the mind for people who couldn't defend themselves against the terrors of the world. She had no use for fear.

Before Verrin could answer, a scream shot its way around the camp. A blood curdling scream followed by an eerie silence. Her heart dropped into her stomach from remorse, for whomever that had been was dead. Screams before death were unmistakably animalistic. Primal. She looked at Allise, who looked like she wanted to disappear into the walls.

"Ready the horses," Verrin commanded briskly. "We ride for Operial."

Verrin watched Allise crash down the stairs and sprint towards the stables through the fading light of the sun. She hadn't mentioned to the younger woman how some of the people they called friends were working against them. She herself wasn't ready to openly admit it yet.

The wooden floor by the doorway creaked under a new weight. Verrin didn't even turn around, she didn't need to. She knew who it was.

"Hello, Verrin."

Verrin closed her eyes as her heart sank even deeper into her stomach. She knew the voice, just as she had expected she would. It was an attack on her pride, a massive betrayal that threatened to release the old woman's rage upon the world.

"Mary. I thought you were stationed in Draul Gyra." Verrin's voice dripped with acidic hatred that corroded the very words as they passed over her tongue, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She pursed her lips and tried to ignore the memories that flashed through her mind as she reminded herself that Mary was no longer her childhood friend, but an enemy of the Angelics.

"Verrin you look lovely," Mary expressed through forced delight and sickening happiness.

Verrin was old. Old enough her brown hair was completely greyed and her skin had sunk deep into her face. She was taller than Mary, with blue eyes and fine features she appeared to tower over the other woman with a luminous glow.

She wore a fine dress of blue silk that draped around her like a delicate flower in bloom, with a white slash through the centre that blended with the silvery embroidery of several unrecognizable designs. Her belt glinted off the fading sun as did her dozen necklaces, several expensive rings, sleeve of bracelets and bangles, and her earrings that dangled just above her shoulders. Even her net of sapphires that strung throughout her hair turned the ceiling into a shimmering illusion of light. 

"Do not toy with me," Verrin spat, turning to face the woman with eyes of liquid fire. "You aren't near smart enough to win." Her voice was deep and guttural, far past her usual honeyed words to issue a warning. Like a wolf howling before it chased down its prey to devour it.

"You wound me," Mary called back, Verrin watched as the younger woman carefully stepped around or over the dead bodies of Angelics, weaving her way through the gory maze with extreme difficulty. "We were closer than sisters once, sneaking into the kitchens late at night to steal honeycombs or cakes before the cooks caught us."

Mary was a head shorter than Verrin, with blonde hair and green eyes she appeared no more than fifty. She wore a dress the colour of obsidian, with deep golden embroidery that swirled its way throughout her entire outfit.

Verrin barked a laugh. "That was before you betrayed your oath and helped her escape."

"You have no proof."

"There were over two dozen Angelics stationed here. All are dead, except you. I haven't seen you in thirty years and you look forty summers younger. I have all the proof I need." Verrin caught Allise leading two strong looking horses out of the stables. Good, it was long passed time they go.

"Are you going to try to take me to Michelle?" Mary asked, no fear or worry in her voice. She had reached Verrin by now, and stood by the window looking down at the horses with her old friend.

"No."

Mary's head recoiled slightly, her eyes widening for a split second before she caught herself. "Why?" The woman all but sneered, looking suspiciously at Verrin.

"Because when I inform the Archmother what transpired here and when she signs a decree for your — and your accomplices heads, I will kill you myself."

Mary nodded, unaffected. "I would try to stop you, but we both know Michelle doesn't have the backbone to reveal her failures to the rest of the world."

Verrin didn't put to words how she'd make Michelle write that decree if she had to push the woman's arm across a piece of parchment herself. Instead, she pushed her anger into the deep recesses of her mind until it was a distant memory and inclined her head as she took her leave. As she came to the doorway, however, she stopped. "Get a good look at my face, Mary," Verrin instructed, turning to face the woman again. "It's the very last thing you'll see before you die."