He landed in a better-lit-than-you'd-want-it-to-be dungeon -- and it really was a dungeon. Stone floors with grating in them, stone walls without window, a thick door of heavy wood with a barred opening, and many lovingly cared-for instruments of torture. Fortunately, the only fresh blood in the room trickled from Nico's mouth where she'd bitten herself trying (and failing) not to scream. Tears and snot streaked her face along with the blood, though none of them seemed to have stirred anything like compassion in the old woman dressed in white and red miko robes who was holding the Staff of One on Nico with an expression of boredom and distaste.
"I won't have my great-granddaughter live at the mercy of her humanity," she told Nico as Nico struggled against a dozen cat-sized gremlins, their teeth and talons passing through her clothes to dig into her skin. "I can make you better. Or kill you, if I'm wrong about your potential.
"What do you say?" she asked, raising the Staff as it glowed blue again. "Do you think you're worth the wager?"
Nico raised her head, gritting her teeth in a snarl. This old hag thought she'd give up? That she'd die here, a lifetime before she'd ever been born? That she'd leave Molly and Karolina and all her friends trapped here because she was too weak to take what belonged to her?
Her life. Her power. It belonged to her.
"Hit me," she hissed, her eyes flaring with a red light strong enough to show through the Witchbreaker's Staff's overwhelming blue, and screamed her rage and pain and defiance as the Witchbreaker did just that.
cw: magical torture
He landed in a better-lit-than-you'd-want-it-to-be dungeon -- and it really was a dungeon. Stone floors with grating in them, stone walls without window, a thick door of heavy wood with a barred opening, and many lovingly cared-for instruments of torture. Fortunately, the only fresh blood in the room trickled from Nico's mouth where she'd bitten herself trying (and failing) not to scream. Tears and snot streaked her face along with the blood, though none of them seemed to have stirred anything like compassion in the old woman dressed in white and red miko robes who was holding the Staff of One on Nico with an expression of boredom and distaste.
"I won't have my great-granddaughter live at the mercy of her humanity," she told Nico as Nico struggled against a dozen cat-sized gremlins, their teeth and talons passing through her clothes to dig into her skin. "I can make you better. Or kill you, if I'm wrong about your potential.
"What do you say?" she asked, raising the Staff as it glowed blue again. "Do you think you're worth the wager?"
Nico raised her head, gritting her teeth in a snarl. This old hag thought she'd give up? That she'd die here, a lifetime before she'd ever been born? That she'd leave Molly and Karolina and all her friends trapped here because she was too weak to take what belonged to her?
Her life. Her power. It belonged to her.
"Hit me," she hissed, her eyes flaring with a red light strong enough to show through the Witchbreaker's Staff's overwhelming blue, and screamed her rage and pain and defiance as the Witchbreaker did just that.