Of Immortals and Men | COMPLETE

Chapter 61 The New Divide

Chapter 61

The New Divide

"Did we get what we deserved?"

~Linkin Park~

'I remembered each face...each one that belonged to the House of Hallow. They were the witches that composed the coven from where I came—from where Isaac came from.'

Walking down the hallway that plagued her memories, Isabel felt as if her soul was being dragged.

David was dead...

It was the only thing that rang in her head as her dying bluing eyes watched every elder witch that stood to the side. They were spirits of the deceased, ultimately guarding the most grandest of treasures a witch can possess.

The Book of Shadows, the Wiccan Rede...

Holding their arms out to her as she passed each of them, they spoke words of blessings.

"Blessed be, blessed be," they repeated it countless times, as if it was the only thing they could say.

Numbness controlled her mind and her body—her eyes would look up and around at times, but nothing helped her subdue the pain. That pain that came in waves, and threatened to take her sanity.

It was a world full of poison, and the last thing she needed to do was cure it.

So she could die in peace.

The idea of not making it out alive from the battle that was to come with Ezekias did not seem so horrid to her anymore, and as Isabel dragged her feet towards the burning light that attached itself to the end of the passageway, she worded back her response to the elder witches.

"Blessed be." The power infused within her speech created a strong vibration from deep within her.

'The point of no return,' her mind screamed, allowing their power to engulf her the minute the light began to dissipate.

It showered Isabel and consumed every inch of her body, until something appeared before her eyes. The room became still and it turned into that place she remembered well.

His apartment...

Shivering, Isabel grasped her body for support as she fell to her knees.

"The Rede acknowledges that to change something for personal gain means to sacrifice another," the voice caused something within her.

Isabel lifted her eyes in pure awe to see him. It was true, the apartment belonged to the person she remembered clearly.

"Father," she whispered, seeing a man with glasses and sandy blond hair sitting comfortably on an office chair.

He held a stern look, his eyes never wavering, and within his lap was the object that she and Ezekias were after—the Book of Shadows.

"Stand up, Isabel," he ordered, and she did as she was told.

"What is it that you desire?"

"I want the Book," it was a simple question, or so she thought.

Her father shut his eyes and lifted one index finger to adjust his glasses. "That is not what you desire, the Book is but a tool to your ultimate goal." With a shake of his head, he opened his eyes and shot her a glare. "What is that ultimate desire that drives you here?"