Danse Macabre

Prologue

DECEMBER 2021

Do you ever wonder how many people are not who they seem to be? How many of your friends put on a mask every day, pretending to be someone they're not? Princess by day, ogre by night... Or, in my case more like a part-time student, full-time witch. I have done so many things that I shouldn't have, but the truth is - I would do it all again. Because all of it led to the craziest adventure of my life.

Brontë looked around, for the hundreth time wondering if there's anything she can do. It's been days since she's been taken away from her loved ones, with nothing but time on her hands.

"Hey! Is anybody there?"

She shouted with not much hope for any response. She was desperate for any companionship, for any sign that the world still exists and she's not alone. So far her cries went without any response. Resigned, she sat down on the cold ground and looked around.

Stone walls. Stone ground. Metal bars.Barely enough space to sit down. She knew the risks before, she knew that the arcane asylum would not be awalk in the park, but the lack of another person... It's been the hardest part so far.

"What are you shouting for?"

A tall figure emerged from shadows, making Brontë's heart beat faster. Finally, she thought, someone else is here! Maybe I'll get help. But as the person came closer and closer, her hope was replaced by terror.

Big red horns, sharp teeth and eyes looking like two black holes. Pale and handsome, dressed in his best attire, was the Master of Middle Worlds, a demon every self-respecting witch and wizard would fear. Auld Hornie arrived. And judging by the look on his face, he was anything but pleased. His voice was soft as honey, and his eyes were sparkling with joy, but Brontë knew better than to fall for his charms. Whereas Gods and Goddesses were well known by anyone with magic in their blood, not much was known about Auld Hornie. Knowing that many never leave his realm, Brontë realised that she cannot count on her friends to save her. She has to do it herself.

"Now, little witch." Auld Hornie raised his brow, while looking at Brontë as if she's a curious specimen. "Explain to me why you're locked in a cage here?"

Brontë blinked slowly, staring at the demon in disbelief.

"How would I know?" She asked. "I didn't put myself here. Isn't this your realm?"

The flickering of lights made her realise, that arguing with Auld Hornie was a stupid decision. The demon now looked annoyed, and if she had any chance of getting out of here, she needed him on her side.

"It is my realm, girl, that's why I want to know why do you think you're here."

"I don't understand."

Auld Hornie rolled his eyes and with a snap of his fingers, a chair appeared. He sat comfortably and put his hands together, resting his chin on them. Instinctively, Brontë took a step back, afraid of the demon who was now focusing all of his attention on her.

"Let me make something clear to you, girl. I was not consulted about your arrival in any way shape or form. I am not keen on keeping you here, but I cannot just release you. Do you realise what that would do to my reputation?"

"An irreperable damage, I assume." Brontë said quietly, but to her surprise, demon laugh.

"Exactly. So why don't you tell me how did you end up here, and I can see what can be done?"