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A chapter out of a book were Sage after countless

Author:unloginuser Time:2024/12/09 Read: 3375

A chapter out of a book were Sage after countless other missions attempts do defeat her greatest enemy Azal Penawar who has the power to mind control anyone and everyone he pleases. She won’t succeed in her mission but is the only person who can resist his power. In the end of the chapter Anwir is under his power due to the kiss and then Sage is next. In the end she loses this battle. Azals will call her a mere pet or puppet after she’s brainwashed
Sage- Protector of prophecies and Commoner of Evergreen. NO powers and the only person that can resist any type of magic. Brown skin and brown hair, gold eyes and a mace for a weapon. Her voice never shows fear.
Azal – King of Alamas. Sages the worst enemy and wants revenge on the world for the death of his family. He can mind control people with his persuasive voice, hand jesters for complete obedience, and by kissing someone there permanently under his power. once people are mind controlled they address him as master or my king. He often speaks like a mad man acting as though its a game. He is a master mind on the mind and plotting. He’s Immortal having stolen that power from Sage when she was a newborn. Blond hair, teal eyes, teal and gold clothes, gloves to cover his scarred hands
Anwir LeRoy- King of the Vortex. Sage’s boyfriend and has the power to conjure shadows and monsters. He used to work for Azal but help Sage escape her death from the hands of Azal. Black hair, brown skin, indigo eyes, often wears ceremonial robes matching his kingdom colors indigo and black

setting: Palace of Alamas also called Azal’s home

Chapter Seven: The Serpent’s Kiss

The Palace of Alamas pulsed with a sickening sweetness, a cloying perfume that clung to the ornate, gilded walls like a shroud. Sage, Protector of Prophecies, felt its insidious tendrils slither across her skin, a silent warning. This was Azal Penawar’s lair, a gilded cage built on the bones of countless broken wills. This was her seventh attempt to end him.

Her mace, heavy with the weight of failed missions, felt reassuring in her hand. Anwir, King of the Vortex, stood beside her, his shadow magic crackling faintly at the edges of his indigo robes. His usual confident demeanor was clouded with a grim determination that mirrored her own.

Azal appeared as if summoned, a whirlwind of teal and gold, his laughter echoing through the vast hall. His teal eyes, icy and cruel, fixed on them. His scarred hands, hidden beneath ornate gloves, twitched.

“Sage, my delightful nemesis,” Azal purred, his voice a silken whisper that carried the weight of a thousand commands. “Again you dare to trespass in my domain? Such persistence is… amusing.” He gestured languidly with a hand, and the air itself seemed to thicken, the sweet scent intensifying. Anwir flinched, a subtle tremor betraying his struggle against the encroaching influence.

Sage gripped her mace tighter. She knew this was a trap, a carefully orchestrated dance designed to exploit Anwir’s vulnerability. Azal couldn’t control her, a fact that fueled his maddening obsession. He needed to break her, to prove his dominance, not just by conquering her, but by shattering those she cared for.

The battle was swift and brutal. Anwir unleashed a torrent of shadow creatures, grotesque and terrifying, but Azal deflected them with a flick of his wrist, his voice weaving spells of dissolution, turning the shadows against their creator. Anwir, despite his formidable power, was visibly weakening, his eyes glazing over. His usual sharp gaze dulled, replaced by a vacant stare.

Sage moved like a whirlwind, her mace a blur of brown wood and bronze, deflecting Azal’s subtle mind-attacks. She was faster than him, more agile, but she fought defensively – she knew brute force would be futile against his control. She saw the flicker of triumph in Azal’s eyes; he was enjoying the spectacle of Anwir’s downfall.

Suddenly, Azal laughed again, a sharper, more predatory sound. With the grace of a predator, he lunged at Anwir, his lips brushing against the King of the Vortex’s cheek in a swift, deadly kiss. Anwir shuddered, and his eyes locked onto Azal with a sickening obedience.

“My King,” Anwir whispered, his voice devoid of his usual strength. The shadows around him dissipated, replaced by a chilling aura of submission.

Azal turned his attention to Sage, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “Now, my pet,” he said, his voice dripping with false tenderness, “it’s your turn.” He advanced, his eyes glittering with an unholy light. He extended a hand towards her, but she moved with lightning speed, avoiding his touch. The mace rose in her hand.

But it was too late. He was too fast. Azal moved with impossible speed, his body a blur, closing the distance in an instant. He used the speed and agility as the perfect distraction and before Sage could even think to react or defend he swept her into his arms, his lips finding hers. She had nowhere to go, and her strength didn’t matter now. There was a moment of resistance, a flash of defiance in her eyes.

Then, the darkness closed in.

She didn’t even cry out, her voice still strong as ever even if it’s only in her mind.

Later, as she watched Anwir serve Azal, her body acting on a whim not her own, she understood. The prophecy hadn’t been wrong, it had simply been incomplete. She was the only one who could resist him for a while, but not forever. Azal’s voice, cold and dismissive, cut through her newly-forged servitude.

“My puppet,” he whispered, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “You were a challenge, yes, but now… you’re mine.”

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