Rot & Romance (Rewriting)

Chapter 108

Channel Islands, Western Europe

The long and arduous trek through the most obscure and desolate island in the English Channel was finally over. The sorceress Ursula stood before the tomb of the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever known. The sorcerer that created the three unforgivable spells and forced Ursula to create the Demon's Spirit that turned her family into monsters.

The sorcerer Demetrius.

The tomb was located in an underground cave located near the center of the island, protected by barrier spells she and the other three elemental witches had cast after they had sealed Demetrius inside.

Ursula had effortlessly dispersed the spells and knew she could just as easily break the spell that sealed Demetrius, now that she possessed the blood of his descendant.

She began placing candles around the tomb--as much as she believed was needed to amplify her magical potency to that equal to all four elemental witches. Ursula raised her hands over the tomb and recited the unsealing spell.

Deatuse Signaculum!

The lid of the tomb opened ever so slightly, indicating that the spell was successful. Ursula flicked a finger and the tomb lid flew off, revealing the calcified immortal.

The Evil One of the prophecy, of which she is essentially the progenitor of.

The only man with the magical capability to kill her family and rid the world of the species she birthed.

Since Demetrius was an immortal, the only option the elemental witches had was to seal him away in an incapacitated state. At the moment, he was neither dead, nor alive. And his physical being was as it had been six centuries ago.

Ursula pulled the vial of Lainey's blood from her robes.

"Blood of thy kin, of which to restore life."

She pulled out her pocket knife and forcefully jabbed it into the side of Demetrius' face and swiped to her left, leaving a large scar. She dipped the tip of her knife into the vial of blood.

"Flesh of thy receiver, of which to reawaken."

Ursula released the vial, leaving it levitating in the air before her and then extended her index finger. She inhaled deeply and then swiftly brought the knife down, severing the finger. Howling in pain, she knelt down to pick it up and inserted it into the vial. The finger quickly dissolved and the potion became an oily jet black.

"Sacrifice of thy patron . . . of which to break the curse," she said, voice shaky.

Bleeding profusely, she grabbed the vial and stood over the tomb.

She was seconds away from reviving Demetrius. Reviving someone who could very well be earth's greatest calamity.

All she had to do was feed him the potion.

And the Evil One of the prophecy shall rise.

"I've anticipated this day for far too long," she whispered as she hovered over Demetrius. "To be able to stare the world's first immortal and originator of the three Forbidden Spells in the eyes and request a peaceful death."

She hastily poured the potion into his mouth.

"Please . . . free me from this world."