Assassins Bane (wof medieval human AU)

Twisted, Bent, and Broken

Head up, this chapter gets pretty dark. If you are uncomfortable with some mature topics, like death, seduction and murder, and such, don't proceed. Or do. It's up to you.

Muisc by Derek Fiechter. (if you want some great fantasy music, check him and his brother out on youtube. They are actually frigging amazing.)

Glory

She had always hated thunderstorms. More precisely, she had always hated the minutes before.
When an eerie silence fell over everything, and the air seemed to shimmer and ripple with unease.

The first clap of thunder was the distant roar that shook the roots of the establishment and knocked her off her feet as she ran away from what she had seen. She was hurled into the wall and struck her head sharply against it.

Lights flickering before her eyes and blood trickling down the side of her face, Glory resisted the urge to vomit and stood up on shaking legs as her stomach lurched.

No one who passed her in the twisted hallways bothered to give her a second glance. They either hurried, screaming through the corridors or huddled in balls against the walls, holding their heads in their hands.

Halfway to her room, she saw Thunder and Moonflower standing together looking more confused than alarmed.

"Get Deathbringer out!" Glory yelled as she ran past them.

"What's going on?" Thunder asked.

"Get him out! All of you have to get out--"

"Glory." Moonflower caught her arm and spun her around so that they were face to face. "Glory, what is happening?"

"Sarai!" Glory cried. "He's gone mad!"

"Wh--"

"Listen to me!" Glory cried. "I can't explain it, but unless you want us all to die, you have to get everyone out! Deathbringer is in a locked cell deep below the ground-"

"We can find it." For once Thunder looked completely serious. "We'll find him."

"Thank you." Glory said, then ran. She knew where she needed to know. She also knew that it was now or never.

Her lungs burned, her legs screamed and nausea filled her as she climbed countless flights of stairs, up, up, and up until at last there were no more stairs at all. Only a room, and in that room, a woman sleeping within a coffin of glass.

She collapsed onto the floor, retching as bile burned the insides of her mouth, and lay in a shaking pile of limbs against the stones.

As she did so, a small silver disk fell out of a place where it had long been forgotten about. It hit the ground with a clang that was far louder than an object of its size should have accounted for.

Glory momentarily forgot her exhaustion as she watched it spin, round and round and round in a silver, incessant blur. Then a boot stamped down over it, and a pale, elegant hand pried it from the cobblestones.

Glory looked up in awe of the beautiful woman standing before her, with flowing black hair and skin that shone with an ethereal glimmer, like moonlight. Her smile was sad when their eyes met. So terribly sorrowful that Glory felt tears begin to drip down her cheeks.

"Poor, poor girl." The woman bent and stroke Glory's head with a soft hand. 

"Who are you?" Glory rasped.

"You offered me your hospitality some months ago, do you not remember?"

Glory shook her head.

"I am Libra, the goddess of Fate." She said. "You have need of me."