Forgotten Fates: Part One: A Forbidden Realms Novel by SJ Doran

Author:SJ Doran [Doran, SJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independant
Published: 2019-05-22T05:00:00+00:00

SOMEONE HAS TO DO IT

She was going through the motions while lost in a trance, removed from the sights and sounds which preceded death. The familiar swish of her blade, the dripping of blood down the altar to pool at her feet, that final gasp of breath.

Most of the ancient deities demanded their tributes in blood and suffering. Their power derived from those final moments in which her victims cried out to the gods for mercy. It was no use. Their suffering great and their deaths violent, for in their greed the gods knew no mercy.

It is why she closed off. Dissociation. It wasn’t her committing these vile acts, it wasn’t she who was causing such suffering, it wasn’t her who once suffered similarly for no other reason than it brought others joy. At least these poor fools had been offered death in the end.

Another life, a different girl...

Blessedly, her final sacrifice of the night had been different, not one offered to the ancient gods, but to the Nessus. This life had been sacrificed in the name of the King of Hell, Cassius. And in his name, Amara could afford to be merciful.

She had selected this sacrifice with care, had ordered her bathed with the finest oils and groomed by her personal attendants. The woman had spent the night embraced in the arms of worshippers, had been loved and cared for without corrupting her innocence. And finally, she had been given laced wine to drink, her cup filled until her mind was consumed by drug-induced euphoria, and her body rendered numb to the cut of her blade. No fear, no pain. The only mercy she was capable to give to one whose soul she had just condemned for eternity.

“The Nessus was weakened beyond expectation, it seems he has not been feeding regularly at all. Stubborn demon.”

Amara’s eyes opened slowly when she could finally release her connection to the Nessus, her gaze locking with the sightless eyes of her latest victim. The female had been younger than her, a white witch not even frozen into her immortality yet. She had been innocent, pure and brimming with life.

And Amara had just fed her soul to the Hells, where it would be consumed by corruption until nothing of that purity and innocence remained. She had destroyed her, for him.

The familiar weight of ceremonial robes settled over her shoulders, covering her bared and dampened skin.

“She made for a worthy sacrifice Sarratum.”

A humorless smile curled Amara’s lips at the sounds of Elmira’s husky voice, sure that her oracle sensed the growing melancholy within her. Her crimson tinted fingers brushed over the eyelids of the dead woman, closing those large grey eyes a final time.

“And still Hell demands more, its hunger grows by the day…” The corruption was an endless void, and as greedy and unyielding as she knew its king to be.

Her muscles ached, her head thrummed. From dusk till dawn lives had been surrendered to her blade, blood had been spilled, souls had been offered, energy had been exchanged.

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