Kiyor and Rowan were forced along a dark corridor. They were taken up
some steps and emerged in a Cathedral. The Cathedral’s pillars,
chalices and candlesticks were silver, but these were displayed around
the side, where they were mostly ignored at night. The religious
artwork in the Cathedral displayed many types of Angels: dark-skinned,
white skinned, robed, garbed in tunics or naked. All the Angels had
wings of white feathers. In the middle was a large altar with shackles.
It was covered in dim blue light, which came from the glass spire above
it. Around the altar was a circle of robed Sorcerers, covered in head
to toe, whispering a chant.
Rowan wore nothing but a white tunic. Kiyor only had
what seemed to be a loincloth. On their faces were expressions of
despair, shock, fear, sadness, loneliness, emptiness, humiliation,
entrapment, abandonment, loss, pain, helplessness, disability,
victimisation, hurt.
Mazra and a few others wore white robes. They stepped forward.
“It is time,” she announced.
With whimpering, Rowan was forced to the altar. They
pressed her onto the altar and shackled her wrists and ankles. All she
could see around her were robed people and dark servants in shadows.
The chanting grew slightly louder. Kiyor was then pushed forward. He
was thrust on top of her and his ankles and wrists were also shackled.
He had room to move so he quickly shifted to a kneeling position, but
could not get himself upright. Despite being in a sexual position, they
were visibly shaking from fear. The pair did not look at each other.
“Mate, like you know you want to,” crooned Mazra. The chanting grew louder.
Suddenly, the full moon appeared and those in white
were bathed in silver light. A scream came from the shadows. Everything
stopped. More screams. Crunching and growling was heard. The remaining
servants retreated silently in different directions, trying to escape
the unseen enemy.
“It seems the Demons have found their next
meal,” called out a voice. The man who stepped from the darkness
wore black leather. His eye shadow was indigo-blue, just like his short
hair. He was in his early 30s. “How long has the Twilight Covern
been functioning Mazra? I would strike a bargain and give you leniency
for answering my questions, but considering that action resulted in the
continuation of the Twilight Coven last time, we’ll know to be
more aggressive this time.”
Mazra smirked. “You do not possess the power to topple one as I.”
“But I do!” A woman stepped out of the darkness and fired light rays at Mazra, toppling her.
“A Witch!” someone called out.
The woman was a Witch of the Light Kingdom. She wore
a pink roll-neck jumper with blue jeans. She herself had hazel-brown
hair and blue eyes and was also the same age as Mazra.
Another Sorcerer stepped out of the circle.
“Sorcerers inflict as much damage to a Witch as a Witch attacking
Sorcerers!” He fired a dark wave at her. The Witch braced for
impact but the wave was deflected by a protection bubble.
“We did bring that into consideration,” told the indigo-blue-haired man.
Mazra struggled up in disbelief. “The Sorcerer’s Guild will never defeat us.”
At that moment, several Demons sprang from the
shadows and pounced on the robed figures. Naturally, the robed figures
tried to shoot them off with their magic, which Demons were resistant
to.
The Witch ran to the altar, still protected. A pair
of male twins who were Kiyor’s age ran out and helped the older
woman surround the altar. They were wearing yellow and green leather
suits and a special pendant each. Scythe and Manar kept low and hurried
to the altar. The shackles of the frightened pair were quickly
unlocked. The non-magical rescuers pulled off Kiyor and Rowan and
forcibly pushed them to the side of the great Cathedral.
“Hurry! Don’t look anywhere!” ordered Scythe.
Rowan screamed when she saw a mutilated man, with
part of his skin shredded and torn away, his neck broken and trachea
spilling out.
“Look away Rowan,” ordered Manar. She forced her charge along.
Scythe reached a door and quickly opened it. Kiyor
was hurried in, followed by the hurried Rowan. Manar closed and locked
the door. Zareen and Midiro were waiting there with large blankets,
which they wrapped around their children.
Zareen checked her son for injuries. “I wanna
get out of here,” whimpered Kiyor. Scythe wrapped his arms around
his son and shushed him gently. Relief seemed to wash over the
father’s face.
Rowan sobbed against her father’s chest.
“Daddy? Where’s Mummy?” The thankful Midiro
didn’t know how to answer.