Moon Touched
“A good question. My mother and Aunt Yannylla taught me a prayer to shield the item and trick the bond that links it to its owner.”
We entered the sacred rooms one by one, breath held. Each chamber was a shrine—Zeus’s lightning bolt gleamed with golden menace; Hermes’s sandals shimmered with residual speed; even the dark elf’s crown radiated cold death and unending life.
And then we reached the room veiled in shadow, where the air weighed heavier.
Hades.
His presence clung to every surface, his childhood memories in small trinkets, war relics, coins from the River Styx, weapons that had slain gods and demons alike.