Page 58 of Demanding Discord
DISCORD
“Are you ready?” Cinder squeezed my hand.
I laughed dryly. Was I ready to face the goddess of magic, whose wrath would likely tear me to shreds the moment her gaze met mine? “No, not really.”
We stepped through the fissure, and the heat of Ruin’s chamber vanished behind us, chilling stillness replacing it. The silver light dimmed to a soft glow, illuminating an endless cavern carved of obsidian and bone. The air smelled of frost and rot, an impossible combination that made my skin crawl.
Then, I saw her.
Hecate hung suspended above a black altar, her body bound in chains that glowed faintly with demonic sigils. Her long, silver hair drifted like smoke on a breeze, her eyes half-lidded but aware. Even broken, she radiated power, the kind that humbles you without words.
“Holy Hec…” Cinder trailed off, her voice a whisper. “Is that…?”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “The goddess herself.”
Cinder started forward, her steps echoing across the stone. “We have to help her.”
“Careful,” I warned. “Those chains were forged for deities. Touch the wrong rune, and it could melt you from the inside out.”
“Just like in Indiana Jones,” she said.
We approached the altar, and the chains hummed, reacting to our presence. I could feel Ruin’s magic woven through them—layered, precise, merciless. This was no simple prison. It was meant to drain her.
“Cinder,” Hecate’s voice rasped, barely audible yet filled with divine resonance. “You came.”
Cinder froze. “You know who I am?”
“Your mother told me about you and your sisters.” She closed her eyes and let out a long hiss, as if speaking pained her.
Tears welled in Cinder’s eyes. “She’s alive? And my dad?”
“I helped them escape.” The goddess wheezed and opened her eyes. “As you will now help me.”
Cinder brought a trembling hand to her lips. “Where are they?”
Hecate hissed again, her eyes rolling upward until only the whites were visible.
“Enough questions. We must release her.” I circled the altar, examining the chains. “Ruin tied the binds to her essence…a trick he learned from Lucifer. If we break them the wrong way, we might kill her.”
“Then we find the right way,” Cinder said, her voice steady, filled with resolve. “Nothing is impossible. Not if we think it through.”
Her determination sparked something in me. For centuries, I’d lived in a world where power was brute force, where thinking too long was a weakness. But Cinder made intellect feel like defiance.
“Alright,” I said. “We outthink the bastard.”
I hovered my hand above the nearest chain, just shy of touching it, and the sigils pulsed red. I closed my eyes, reaching out with my mind and tracing the flow of energy. The bindings were a circuit, using darkness to feed on the goddess’s power. If we could disrupt the current with light…
“Cinder, channel your firelight into the binding sigil on the shackle here.” I pointed to Hecate’s wrist. “Slow and steady. Focus on your light rather than heat.”
My witch nodded, unquestioning, and held her hand toward the shackle. Her flames flickered gold rather than red, as soft as candlelight. The binding sigil glowed, growing brighter and brighter, its low vibration fighting against Cinder’s high. Then it faltered, and the chain shuddered.
“That’s it,” I whispered. “You’re burning the darkness out.”
She bit her lip, focusing, sweat beading on her forehead. The first chain snapped, the sound echoing through the cavern like a scream before dissolving into smoke. Hecate’s arm dropped, hanging limp at her side as her expression contorted into one of pure agony.
“Oh, Goddess. I’m so sorry.” Cinder wrung her hands. “It’s hurting her.”
“But it’s working.” I squeezed her shoulders. “Try the next one.”
