Lillith woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. She heard a voice in her sleep. Her heart was beating so loud it disrupted her slumber and she looked around the dark with wide eyes, unable to shake off the feeling of being watched. She searched the room for a familiar figure, but to her further distress, Thomas was still nowhere to be seen.
At first, she thought it were the menacing whispers, that invaded her mind, however the longer she listened, the more familiar it sounded. She concentrated on the tune of the voice, the depth of it, listening intently, but it was more of an echo, blurred and unclear messages send from the darkest corners of the academy.
Lillith instinctively stepped out of her bed, curiosity dragging her up despite her exhaustion. She did not care whether she ran straight into a trap.
No.
She was tired of the constant questions, and she decided to seek the answers herself.
The witch pushed open the door, following the sound of a wicked soul, a taste of the forbidden paradise, blindly chasing the possibility of discovery. She needed to know who was the one calling her.
The open corridors send shivers to her skin as she walked across the empty school, the bloodthirsty eyes watching her every move. Lillith was never afraid of the dark, but only a fool wouldn't had felt endangered in the open air when the moon shone above. You never knew what was watching in the forest, hidden in the pitch-black dark. The creatures patiently waited until she let her eyes wonder, until she took a single, innocent look outside...It was all they needed for an invitation.
However, Lillith knew better. The heiress kept looking straight ahead, fighting the urge to glance. She could feel the shadows crawling behind her, but never turned around.
No.
She needed to know...
The voice turned louder with each step as her feet carried her down a long spiral staircase, the air turning colder with her arrival to the underground. The dungeons creeped into her sight, swallowed in pitch black dark, with only a single torch lit aflame at the very bottom of the flight of stairs.
Lillith hesitated weather to continue. She stopped on the very last step, her shallow breath turning into white air.
Come to me.
Shivers crawled through her skin, and she mindlessly stepped forward, as if enchanted, following the voice. She came by multiple doors, yet only one of them made her stop by.
The surface of the door was wet, droplets of water sliding down the old wood. The floor was slippery, stones coated with a viscous substance of moss and rain.
Lillith placed her ear on the surface of the door, listening intently.
Her eyes narrowed at the sudden silence, and she jumped back as the door creaked open, startled, feeling her heart drum in her fingertips. Despite her common sense, she once again, succumbed to the charm of the unknown and peeked inside, frowning at the single outline of a figure in the middle.
"You really like to take your time, do you not?"
The door slammed shut behind her with a blow and Lillith flinched, looking between the door and the wizard.
So, it wasn't the voices.
It was the snake in disguise for a fallen angel who disrupted her fragile mind.
Again.
"I told you to stop messing with my head," she hissed, pointing an accusing finger towards him.
Only seven candles illuminated his figure and he glanced at her across his shoulder, boredom lacing his features at her outburst.
"I will do as I please."
Lillith gritted her teeth, hatred bubbling in the pit of her stomach hotter than the hell itself.
"Why am I here, Crane?" she snarled, focusing all attention on him. There was nothing else to look at, just cold, wet walls and utter darkness, reminding her of the cell she was dearly familiar with back at home.
Memories flashed in front of her eyes and Lillith dug her nails into her palms in distress. She turned to grab the handle, only for her hand to collide with a plain wood.
It disappeared.
"Let me out Tom."
The wizard clicked his tongue, finally turning around to face her.
"I will," he assured her, walking in her direction. "But first, I have a proposition."
Lillith cocked an eyebrow, studying his eyes. They were filled with unexplainable desire for power, the raw brutality of a maniac, the shadow of the fire throwing a ruthless shade across his heavenly features.
He truly was a demigod among commoners.
Yet, she never understood how such innocent expression of calm could simultaneously express such sadism.
"Join us," he said, his voice monotone. "Join us, and you will be spared of any harm. You will be untouchable."
"Us? And join what exactly?" Lillith questioned and with her words, five more figures emerged from the darkness, stepping into the dim light.
"Us," Tom told her, his eyes filling with obscurity. "The descendants of the Sacred Seven."
The witch felt her heart drop.
"We are the Legacy. The heirs of the Originals. The direct connection to the Council of Elders."
Lillith felt nauseous whilst he spoke, her heart clutching within her chest at the sight of the curly haired wizard in the background.
Anthony gave her a compassionate look, recognizing the horror and repulsion in her face, whilst the others remained expressionless, staring at her with expectation.
"Join the seven fallen angels witch and I promise you, you will be protected," Thomas told her in a velvet voice, offering her his hand.
Suddenly everything made sense. His superiority complex, the hunger for respect...Lillith skipped between the other five as everything downed on her.
Nikolas Lecter, with a golden fly sewn into the fabric of his cloak was related to the Lord of flies, Beelzebub, the advisor of Satan. The second in command.
Nicolas Lecter was Thomas's right hand.
Anthony Turner, with a crow in his emblem, was the descendant of Mammon, standing proud on the Devil's left.
Donatella Vevrain, a bull, was the heir of Belphegor.
Galadriel Dante, a wolf, the heir of Mundus and lastly, Alexej Roman, a scorpion, the heir of Asmodeus.
The Sacred Seven.
The seven fallen angels.
Lillith felt like her head was about to explode. How could she be so reckless? How could she not notice? It was all right in front of her eyes the whole time, but just like the handle of the door, not everything was there in plain sight.
Lillith restlessly skimmed between the royals in shock, recovering from the realization.
"I see you've figured it out," Tom grinned, a sadistic, cold smile. "Shame it took you so long."
Lillith fell silent.
"You are probably searching for the seventh one," he chuckled. "Don't worry, he is already in my services."
"Why do you do this?" she questioned, hiding the panic in her voice. "What are you planning?"
"Isn't it obvious? The order shall be restored."
"What order?" Lillith snarled, fury taking over her features to what Tom grinned again. "The Queen is the order!"
"Join us, and I will tell you anything you wish to know."
"Or?"
"Or suffer the denial and bear the consequences," he did not spare it a further thought and replied in a heartbeat, watching her face twist.
"I knew your friendliness was an act."
"Then you shall not be surprised."
Lillith looked away from him, hurt and disappointed. He too, didn't believe she was suitable for the throne.
"We are the future Verity," Thomas told her softly, placing a finger under her chin to look her in the eyes. "And you, you are a part of it. It is up to you weather you accept your fate willingly, or by force."
Angered, Lillith swatted his hand away, bothered by his gentleness after what he had said.
"I won't do it."
Thomas's face did not falter at her reply.
"You will," he told her calmly, persuaded of his own truth. "In a few months, you will be my wife and you won't have a choice. Why choose the harder path if you can live like the nobility?"
Lillith never felt more disgusted by someone's words as she did that exact moment. She was a prisoner in his little game, a tool he could use in his benefit.
"Soon, I will be more than just a royal," his voice turned darker, his demeanour menacing. Tom leaned down to her ear, turning his voice down for only her to hear. "I will be a king and you; you will bow to me."
Lillith gritted her teeth, pushing at his chest to create a space between the two. Nevertheless, their faces were just inches apart.
"I will never," she hissed, her voice holding the tune of hundreds promises. "You will never be a king as long as I live!"
Tom threw his head back, laughing maliciously. That's when she realized her own mistake.
"Mark her words, my dear followers," he grinned, turning to his companions. "And enjoy once she is broken down on her knees."
He turned back to her and by the look in his eyes, Lillith knew she messed up.
"And because you already so beautifully pointed out an aspect of it, why not to tell them the whole truth?"
Lillith practically felt the colour drain from her face.
"Tom-"
"I know all of you must be confused, as to who is this mysterious witch nobody ever heard of? A commoner, engaged with the descendant of the seven. Why would I, the heir of mighty Satan, marry an ordinary witch..."
"Thomas stop-"
"Let me introduce you, my real fiancee, because Verity...Verity is nobody, but a liar, who doesn't really exist."
"Stop."
"And she believed she can fool you all."
"Thomas don't!"
Lillith grabbed his upper arm, dragging him backwards in hope he would listen to her, but he only grabbed her waist, pulling her flush against him and restraining her of any move.
"May I introduce you, the heir of Hecate herself. The mighty Lillith Verity Adelaide Moriarty Griffin, the future Queen, and the head witch of the coven!"
Lillith shook her head in dread.
"You promised!" she growled, fisting her hands. "You promised me!"
Thomas looked at her with distaste, finally letting go.
"Don't be naive Lillith. Since when did my promises hold any power."
The witch looked at his companions in fear, taking notice of the way their facades slightly dropped.
Anthony made no effort to hide his shock. He even seemed slightly hurt by the fact he found out this way, foolishly thinking there was shared trust among the two. Alexej and Donatella shared confused glances, whilst Galadriel's face was as cold as Nikolas's, hardly marked by a certain emotion.
"I won't join your twisted little cult!" Lillith yelled, shoving Thomas backwards, even though he just barely moved due to her lack of strength. "I won't let you manipulate me or outpower me like you did everyone else and first of all, I won't ever marry you! I would rather die than to let you sit on my throne!"
Lillith left in a hurry, stalking away with her core lit aflame. Galadriel made a move to go after her, but Thomas stopped him before he did, placing his hand on his chest.
"Let her," he told him calmly, his mind flashing all the possibilities to awake her submissive nature. "She will crawl back to me in no time when I'm done with her."
And so did a new game begin.
Tom promised that Lillith will no longer be protected if she refuses to join the Legacy, and he made sure she fully realized the consequences of her denial. If she thought that the academy was tough from the start, then the events of the upcoming days were the demonstration of living hell.
None of his followers spoke to her, not even Anthony, who avoided her glances as if she could turn him to stone. He was the only one who believed it wasn't right to abandon her, but his word held no power in comparison with his leader.
His accomplices too, obeyed with no further interrogation and went on with their days as if nothing had changed. They could not deny their surprise, although it wasn't unexpected either. Galadriel and Nikolas immediately sensed the strange aura of the witch, others simply ignored it. Alexej wasn't really the sharpest in the group and although Donatella was quite witty, she simply did not care.
Verity was completely irrelevant to her.
Until it was Lillith.
After the truth behind her sudden appearance was revealed, the curiosity rose among the peers, however their wings were cut short when Tom clearly proclaimed his displeasure of them snooping around his future wife.
There was a reason they chose to follow Thomas Crane and there was a reason they did not dare to question his orders.
Not only was he the prior descendant of the highest seven, but he was also a born leader. His presence brought fear like no other, although he had never shown the real greatness of his abilities. The students tried to make him the target of their cruelty for his bastard origin, but soon, the roles had changed, and he conquered all of them.
Nobody could forget the day Thomas Crane crossed the gate of Morariel. Nobody could forget the look of pure terror in the eyes of a royal who dared to disrespect the young Lord. Only one of them died that day, but he made sure all of them remembered what he was capable of. A nine-year-old child who is capable of murder, is capable of monstrosity commoners cannot imagine.
He could take away senses with a simple look, leaving victims grope in the dark. He could penetrate their mind, digging deep into their memories, recreate them into menacing terrors. He could manipulate their decisions, their movements, their own will...
Just one had to die for the order to be set.
Tom was a sly and cunning wizard, ruthless and determined to achieve whatever he desired. He had the wisdom, the knowledge, a certain intellect, but first of all, he had a cloud of mystery that made him impossible to figure out.
Thomas Crane was an enigma. A twisted, cruel, and bloodthirsty creation of hell, presenting himself as an angel. He practiced mannerism for years. He learnt how to charm people, how to deceive them with charismatic smiles and gestures of a born gentleman.
Powerful people underestimated him. They did not see him as a threat, and that was his biggest advantage.
They had no idea they were a part of his game. There was nothing that could stop him.
Not even the Queen.
However, that was a matter that concerned the socialite, whose heart turned sour at the given commands.
Anthony did not like the new orders.
He hated every minute of the day he was forced to watch the torment unfold in front of his eyes. The descendant of Hecate, a head witch, a Queen? None of it mattered in his eyes.
Lillith Moriarty...Verity was just a confused girl who looked at the world with eyes of a child, ones that had never experienced such mundane things as companionship, such simple gestures as a handshake. Their association wasn't interlocked by friendship or genuine care, but they all could rely on each other. They had a certain security of unspoken promises.
Anthony wasn't alone.
But Lillith...
She had always been.
He could read it in her eyes. The way she never let her guard down, the way she watched her surroundings, as if waiting for an attack. The way she tensed every time somebody moved too fast, too energetically, too suddenly...
She was socially uneducated, only knowing how to behave in the company of aristocrats. She hid her vulnerability under a thick layer of armour, but he saw through her as if she was a ghost. Sometimes, she was so transparent it was ridiculous.
For the young royal, it wasn't hard to figure her out.
It was his role in the Legacy, extract the information, deceive people, and lead them down the desired path, but with Lillith-
Circumstances were different.
Tom did not let anybody dig too deep into her life. Into her past. Into her mind.
He wanted to keep her all to himself.
He did not mention what were his intentions with the girl and a part of Anthony knew he did not wish to know.
However, the other was itching for knowledge, a single peek of what was about to happen.
Tom disappeared every night and returned before dawn. He could hear his steps pass his chamber every single day and he knew he was plotting something in that twisted mind of his. The only difference was that this time, he did not wish to see the outcome of his plans.
Even though they had not been told much, he took notice of the way Lillith's face sunk. He took notice of the verdant tint of her skin and the dark circles under her eyes. Her behaviour showed signs of paranoia and the lack of sleep was starting to get to her. He just didn't know how intensively-
A loud bang torn him out of his trance and the young Lord whipped around, only to witness a bundle of dark fabric falling down the stairs. Anthony watched with horror as the wizard shoved his future Queen down the steps and he lunged himself forward, only to be stopped by a firm grip.
"What are you doing?" Galadriel questioned, a monotone expression in his face. Tony looked at him in disbelief, his eyebrows pulled together in a mix of concern and rage.
"Didn't you see what has just happened?"
His yellow eyes briefly skimmed between the snickering students, keeping them to the surroundings whilst he spoke in a hushed voice.
"You may not survive the consequences of disobeying the high lord, Turner. I might not like you, but you are my companion and I do not wish to hear your screams at night."
His face hardened and he shook off his hand, straightening his posture.
"She won't survive it here," Tony told him firmly, his voice dead serious. "She was never let out of the castle. She doesn't know how to take care of herself in a place like this."
"She will learn."
"That would be too late if she's dead," he bit, a sour undertone in his voice, his jaw clenched.
"She will learn to obey Turner. He won't let her die. She is too important."
Anthony looked madly conflicted.
"See?" Galadriel cocked his eyebrow, motioning to a slender figure approaching the group of students.
"Gentleman."
The snickers died down at the sight of the wizard,
"I believe there is nothing interesting to see. Leave," he told them firmly, his voice holding a certain tone of authority.
All of them scurried away at his command, disappearing down the corridor and the two companions watched as their leader glanced down the steps, a blank look on his face, before he addressed to them as well.
"You too."