Michelle Morone
Prologue
At last, the Enclave of Magi had lost patience with her.
“You are forever banished from the Underworld,” rang a voice that could only be heard within the head of Lady Arianna Hunt. “You shall be stripped of your Magic; you will live a mortal life, and you will die a mortal death.”
"Death". The word haunted her.
A thought came unbidden - How had it all gone so wrong? Bile rose in her throat at the dawning realization she would no longer be able to Commune, to talk mind to mind, that she must stoop to speaking. Best to get used to it now. “What of my Consort?” she asked aloud.
“He is to be banished to the Overworld with you. He will maintain his immortality and a modicum of magic so that you may watch him flourish while you flounder,” came the painful words, Communed to her. At her side, her consort Damon knelt more deeply against the floor where they were both chained. Was that shame Arianna saw on his cheeks? Envy welled up in her breast and hatred burned in her minds’ eye. It may have been her plan that put them both here, but it was their magic together that had sown the seeds of dissent.
“Repeat after us…” said the voice of twelve melded together: “I have brought myself low.”
“I have…brought myself low,” she whispered, gnashing her teeth against the bitterness of the words. Damon echoed the words next to her, his voice a soft rasp.
“I, Arianna Hunt, willingly accept banishment and loss of immortality. I will never again trespass upon the Blessed Underworld in body or spirit and I will protect the Sanctuary until my last breath.”
She repeated the words, feeling her control of magic seep away with every breath until it was locked deep inside, beyond her ability to sense. Dizziness hit her all at once, a gnawing pit chewed at her stomach, and weakness descended on her like a cloak. She was mortal.
Next to her, Damon nodded his head to some words Communed by the Council, “I understand, my lords,” he said, standing, “I am to be her caretaker and protector. Your interests in the Overworld shall be my interests until her dying day.” His chains broke and he immediately knelt next to her, melting the chains from her with a thought and permission from the Council. “Which Sanctuary are we to tend, my lords?”
“Iraeni Sanctuary in Maine of the United States shall now become Hunt Manor,” spoke the single voice to both. “You will ensure the tithe of power is enough to replenish our supply or you will suffer her fate as well, Lord Hunt.”
Both Arianna and Damon bowed their heads low, waiting until the Presence of their masters were gone before looking at each other. “What have you gotten us into this time, Arianna?” spoke Damon in a low voice as a door opened to one side of the room.
“Nothing that cannot be undone, my lord, nothing that cannot be undone.”