“No!” Rosy shrieked, wiping the trickling blood frantically. Arisa lunged towards her daughter, knocking Rosy at the back of her head. Rosy slowly lost consciousness, but the tears of blood continued to flow out of the corners of her eyes. Arisa wiped them away with her cloak, creating slimy reddish-orange stains over Rosy’s tanned cheeks.
“Well, what do we do now?” Allegra asked worriedly.
“Irma, come with me,” Cytheria ordered, flinging Vesta’s body over her shoulder. “Bring Alexei. He needs rest.”
“Where are we going?” Irma inquired suspiciously.
“To the catacombs so I can torture you both to death,” Cytheria said bluntly. She smiled at Irma’s horrified expression. “Just come with me.”
“Do as she says,” Alexei whispered hoarsely, his eyes fixated on Cytheria with a speck of amusement. Irma nodded reluctantly, and helped Alexei to stand up. Alexei coughed, clutching his chest in pain. Cytheria pushed Vesta off her shoulder and ran to his aid.
“Can you get the Queen?” Cytheria asked Irma. Irma nodded without question, and dashed to where Vesta had been laid.
“How is your mother?” Alexei whispered to Cytheria.
“She’s dead,” Cytheria replied tersely. Alexei sighed. He shut his eyes as Cytheria transported him to where Irma stood with the unconscious Vesta.
“We’ll be off,” Cytheria told the rest, her eyes fixated on Arisa in particular.
“Where are you going, exactly?” Artemis inquired politely.
“To Xerxes’ abandoned palace,” Alexei guessed, and in turn coughed. Cytheria simply nodded. She pierced the ground with her sword, and light spilled out from the crack, forming a deformed circle on the grassy ground. She stepped onto the white light, sinking slowly as if it was quicksand.
“Take care,” Artemis wished Irma and Alexei, smiling warmly at them. They returned her smile with another heartfelt one, and also sunk into the light.
“So this is how Vesta and Cytheria found me in Lord Xerxes’ palace,” Demetri muttered.
“What was that for?” A voice Arisa and Artemis somehow recognized asked painfully. Rosy sat up, glaring at the four. Her eyes were mixed shades of purple.
“Who are you?” Demetri asked curtly.
“Such disrespect,” Rosy tutted, ignoring his question. “Hello, Artemis! Glad to see you’re alright. Rosy was torn about your apparent demise.”
“M-milady,” Artemis bowed down. “T-thank you.”
Allegra and Demetri stared at Artemis in bafflement. It was Allegra who spoke, “Who might you be, to be so respected by Artemis?”
YOU ARE READING
The Devil's Tear
Fantasy"Once the mirror is reunited with the tear, The Devil will ascend once again." In a mirror, the spirit of a dead King lies trapped. And in a pure twelve-year old, the Devil's spirit lies in wait. Rosy Rains, a sweet girl from a poor family, discover...
