66. Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Six
Embla
The world outside my closed eyelids sways, and my stomach rolls until it revolts. I gag, dry heaving with an empty stomach. I wipe my face when I finally take a glimpse of my surroundings. Some kind of underground tavern, and I’m chained to the ceiling by iron that wraps around my waist enclosing my lower half. It burns where it touches my skin. A long chain stretching from the metal harness around my thighs is attached to the ceiling.
I don’t know where I am or why I’m here. I try to flap my wings, get them to cooperate so I can at least be right side up when I face my captors. But all I do is make myself swing more. My stomach rolls again. I would puke if there was anything in my stomach.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A little moth snared in a trap,” a deep voice floats through the air. I search the room, my eyes landing on a man with long black hair, red leathery skin, and large ram like antlers that run down his back.
“Who are you?” I’ve never seen anyone outside of Myrr who looks like him, even the fae and faeries don’t come close to matching his appearance.
“Don’t you recognize me? You’ve worshipped me your entire life. I am Malia, God of Demendia.” He splays his arms out wide as if he could hug the city.
“Malia is a god of prosperity, you’re neither god nor man.”
“Oh, little moth, I’m so much worse than that.” He approaches me, swiping a single finger down her cheek. “My true name is Mannon, demon lord of pestilence.”
“I’ll never help you.” I spit at him.
“You won’t have a choice,” he chuckles. “Once you’re mine, we will take the last cities of light that remain.” Mannon disappears in a puff of red smoke that lingers in the air, forcing itself into my face.