Page 56 of Isle of Beasts and Shadows

A hint of amusement danced in his eyes. Leaning closer, he observed Odelle’s reaction, noting the concern that flickered momentarily across her face as she glanced at Duran’s still form beside him.

“Teleport me now, and your death will be merciful,” Sirius demanded, his tone brooking no argument.

“As you wish,” Odelle agreed, her voice soft yet unwavering.

With a fluid motion, she raised her arms and chanted the ancient spell, the words weaving a mystical tapestry aroundthem. A portal shimmered into existence before Sirius, a gateway to his next move.

With a smirk, Sirius pushed Duran’s lifeless body through the portal first, a cruel gesture of his power. He had plans to store his body in Limbo to use as a vessel for later. After all, no one but him knew he was dead.

“You won’t prevail, Dark Beast,” Odelle warned, her eyes narrowing with resolve. “They will defeat you in your own twisted game.”

Sirius turned back to face her, his expression a mix of amusement and challenge. “What makes you so sure that will happen, Crone?” he taunted, his confidence unshaken as he prepared to step through the portal.

“That girl has strengths beyond anything you have,” Odelle stated firmly, her voice carrying a note of prophecy. “I saw it in her. I know it’s there. It’s a remarkable power for a young girl to possess. I’d be worried if I were you.” Her words lingered in the air, a warning wrapped in mystery and intrigue.

Sirius took a step back, a wry smile playing on his lips as he responded to her threat. “We shall see, Crone,” he remarked in a tone laced with defiance. With a deliberate wave, he bid her farewell and crossed the threshold of the portal.

As his foot landed on the other side, a swift glance around revealed that he had materialized in the dimly lit cargo hold of a ship.

Pondering his next move, Sirius raised his scythe thoughtfully, his eyes alight with a glint of mischief. “Limbo,” he mused to himself, the word hanging in the air like a tantalizing secret. Yet, a sudden pause interrupted his train of thought as doubts crept in. “Why conceal it?” he questioned aloud, his voicetinged with uncertainty. “I am the harbinger of fear. They will all tremble at my very presence,” a soft chuckle escaped him, a trace of self-amusement coloring his words. “And where could that elusive girl be hiding now—”

“No.” A voice, laden with determination, cut through his musings. The real Sirius fought against the malevolent force that sought to control him. “I will not let you bring her harm.”

The sinister figure known as Father smirked, his grip tightening until his hand bore the golden stain of blood. “But you see, Sirius, your resistance is in vain. With you removed from the equation, along with the half-breed and the troublesome soul she carries around her neck, the scales tip in my favor,” he proclaimed, his eyes ablaze with malice.

“Who’s there?” A guard’s voice boomed through the tense silence as he pivoted to face the shadowy figure of Sirius. “Show yourself!” His demand echoed in the dimly lit surroundings. With deliberate slowness, Sirius locked eyes with the guard, who visibly trembled in fear. The guard’s grip tightened on his sword, his knuckles turning white with tension. “You’re the wanted criminal.”

“Criminal? No. Miscreant? Yes.” Sirius’s voice cut through the air like a blade as he lunged forward, his scythe gleaming in the faint light. The swift arc of the scythe descended, meeting its mark with a sickening thud. A crimson gash opened, and a gut-wrenching scream pierced the stillness as the guard staggered, blood spilling from the wound on his neck. Desperation etched across his face, he tried to stem the flow, but the pain overwhelmed him, and he crumpled to the ground.

“What was that?” Another guard’s alarmed voice shattered the eerie quietude of the darkened cargo hold.

Sirius moved deliberately, his footsteps echoing softly on the creaking floorboards as he ascended the stairs to the helm of the ship. Two guards, unaware of the impending threat, stood conversing by the wheel.

“Hello,” Sirius’s tone was taunting as he swiftly drove the blade of his scythe through the chest of the guard on the left. The guard’s eyes widened in shock before his body slumped lifelessly. In a fluid motion, Sirius withdrew the blade, his gaze locking with the remaining guard. The guard raised his sword, a glint of defiance in his eyes, as he lunged forward with a fierce battle cry. Sirius sidestepped the attack with ease, seizing the guard by the collar in a swift, practiced move.

“Nice try,” Sirius’s laughter rang out, filled with a chilling mirth. “But, just not good enough.” With a casual strength, he flung the lifeless body over the edge, the thud of impact reverberating through the hold. The sudden gasp of horror from Airella nearby punctuated the scene with an eerie intensity.

In that moment, everything had slowed down to a crawl, and the anticipation hung heavy in the air. Airella’s piercing gaze bore into him, making him turn sharply to meet her eyes, a mix of defiance and curiosity in his own.

“Hey there, half-breed. Let’s have a chat,” he stated coolly.

Airella’s voice faltered, “Sirius?” His demeanor was chillingly brutal, his words cutting through the tense silence like a sharp blade. Glowing yellow eyes locked onto her, seeing through every layer of her being.

“That’s not Sirius,” Jonathan murmured softly, a faint glow emanating from beneath Airella’s white top.

Sirius smirked, his grip tightening on a handful of Airella’s blonde locks as he brought her face to face with him. She gritted her teeth, a fierce struggle clear in her every move as she fought against his hold.

“Why don’t we find a quieter spot for a little chat?” he suggested, his voice carrying an unexpected softness that clashed with his actions. With a swift motion, he severed the chains binding her to the other prisoners, yet the cold metal cuffs remained fastened around her wrists as he led her, still gripping her hair, towards the nearest cabin.

By now, the sorcery that possessed Sirius had cast a spell of slumber upon the ship’s occupants, rendering them unconscious. Airella recognized this enchantment from her past encounters with Sirius and Father—the power to lull individuals into deep sleep, selectively choosing who remained awake.

Guiding her into the confines of the dimly lit cabin, Sirius swiftly secured the heavy oak door behind them, the faint creak echoing through the stillness. As he turned to face her, a subtle air of mystery seemed to shroud his every move, his eyes holding secrets untold.

“What have you done to Sirius?” Airella’s voice, laced with a mix of fear and determination, cut through the tense silence, her body weak but her spirit unyielding as she used the rough wooden wall for support.

“Oh, don’t fret, my dear Airella. Sirius lives. His existence is tethered to my whims,” he remarked with a chilling smile, the dim light glinting off his eyes. “After all, I am his creator.”

“Please, just let us be. Why are you subjecting us to this torment?” Her words held a plea laced with genuine concern for the unfolding situation.

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