10: Hecate

The thread woven between her fingers dripped with ichor. Dense, black mist hovered around it, extinguishing any shred of light that dared to pass through it. She heaved an exhausted and remorseful sigh .

"Does she not bode well?" A soft voice asked from her left.

"No." Hecate replied as the thread faded from her grasp. "I am afraid this child is lost."

"Every child becomes lost, but in time her feet will bring her back to the proper path." Another voice chipped in, slightly deeper in octave and stronger than the other.

"I believe this time she is gone for good." Hecate said. She broke away from their formation and peered around her dimly lit temple. Sconces flared softly on either side of the aisle that lead to the stone steps of her altar.

"What power does she wield?" Hecate turned to the soft tone of voice that belonged to Artemis. Two hounds sat at her feet. Still as statues, but their eyes shifted about.

"It is Necromancy." Hecate informed her. Artemis looked away with disda