❛WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MAKE THE TEN MOST POWERFUL GODS ALIVE PLAY A GAME OF MUSICAL CHAIRS WITH ONE SEAT?❜
They fight - to the death.
They fight over three crowns and a throne with steel spiked maces. They despair a little more everyday keeping thei...
"There still remains one person in the world who holds that kind of power," Eric said quietly, turning his gaze to me as did the rest of the room. "Edwina herself."
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RYVVENDEL MANSION, BELLHAVEN, STEFFITH.
EDWINA
It was three days before the Halflings saw fit to send us an answer.
We arrive at midday tomorrow.
Nothing else. Just five words. No details of who else would come, just the harsh, cold reply. They did not specify the location, and neither did they leave the day of meeting open to suggestion. The words were emblazoned in fine, jet black ink, darker and deeper than the blood of our enemies.
The Halflings owned and lived on three states. Elleria, Azura and Rentis. The rulers were three siblings, ancient beings that held the land. A male called Randall was the eldest, and lord of Elleria. His younger brother was Adriel, lord of Azura. The youngest of all was their sister, Geneva, who was the lady of Rentis.
The deadliest of all three.
I had ordered for a banquet to be arranged, just the four of us. I could not have the other immortals around the three of them, not with the suspicions and sheer frigidity that the Halflings had towards them all. They were only too ready to agree - no one wanted to dine with three deadly beings who could slice and shatter their mind in an instant.
I had often had fights with Adriel when I had risen to power in the states. His elder brother was quieter, but dangerous all the same. It had been their sister who had given me the most trouble, but she had turned into my staunchest ally at the end of those twenty years.
Relations between us were strained, but not like the bonds of fear that the other gods shared towards them. The Halflings respected me enough to at least give me a chance to explain rather than invading my head - or so I hoped.
I had woken up in the early hours before the dawn, watching the moon sink and the sun rise. Yet there was dread coiling in my stomach, nothing but empty, hollow dread. Perhaps it was the knowledge that our encounter could very well end with them leaving my mind in pieces, or worse - going back home without assuring us their help.
Because I could not have my mind broken into - not again, not after Leora.
I had finished the entire bottle of scotch minutes after I had gotten out of bed - my hands were still shaking when Tristan had woken to find me wracking the cabinets for more alcohol. He had paled at once before firmly picking the bottles out of my hands, preventing me from getting drunk any further. The morning had passed by in a haze as I sat in a tub of steaming hot water, the attendants busy fussing about.
