Queen Fiona was surrounded by dead bodies; her people were mutilated. Witches and mortals were lying scattered like broken pieces of glass.
Next to her sat her husband, on his knees. She looked into the eyes of King Bran, not realizing it was for the last time. He looked at her with warm loving eyes, but also with regret from the loss of their people.
They did what had to be done to banish Hades the King of Hell. They knew there would be consequences at some point.
She smiled at Bran but then caught sight of a coming blade. The blade buried straight through Bran’s heart, and she saw the light extinguish from his eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek when she looked at the person holding the sword.
Hella, the daughter of Hades, looked at her with a cruel smile and chuckled, “Don’t cry Fiona, you will join your husband soon enough.”
Fiona looked behind Hella and saw Gabriel, King of the Sky, with a collar around his neck, being restrained by one of Hella’s demons.
Next to him stood Roan, King of the Sea, unrestrained, but his eyes were full of remorse. She looked back at Hella, who was standing in front of her now.
“Any last words Fiona dear?” she asked.
Fiona closed her eyes and felt her magic pouring out, one last time she let her power rain down on the earth.
She looked at King Roan and said,
“I curse you King Roan, for standing by idle, where you could have made the difference between defeat and victory. I curse you to a life that stands still, you and your people will not age, will not reproduce, will not be able to enjoy the pleasures of life. You will be trapped in your Kingdom under the Sea, not being able to do anything just like you did today. Once a year you will be able to leave to try to find redemption. Only when the lost heir of the witches falls in love with you, then the curse will be broken.”
Hella rolled her eyes, “Ugh if I knew you were going to be this boring, Fiona, then I would have killed you immediately. But where is the pleasure in a quick death?”
Hella looked around and shouted, “SIGFRIED!”
Her demon servant came running.
“Make the woodpile ready, let’s give our witch Queen the goodbye that she deserves.”
They tied Fiona to the pole in the middle of the pile.
“You will burn as your ancestors did,” Hella said with a wicked smile.
She held out her hands and shot fire towards the wood. The fire licked on the wood like hungry snakes, and soon Fiona was engulfed by flames.
She felt her body burning but she would never give Hella the satisfaction of screaming. She suffered silently. As she felt her soul leave her body, her ancestors spoke through her in a prophecy:
“One will come who was long lost, with powers of the elements she will be stronger than nature itself. One with both darkness and light. One with the power to bring peace to the Realms once and for all.”
Fiona felt the emptiness of the departure of her ancestors, leaving only a dark black void.