#mermis

@heart-of-dunbroch

Artemis came back to Swynlake to a howling.

At first, she thought this howling was herself. She felt the whistling of the wind through the hole in her soul. It was painful, sharp, and cold. It left her weak and tired. It filled her with the blinding rage of every hero ever scorned by the Moirai. Artemis wanted to rip at the ground beneath her feet and dig until her fingers bled, until she punched through to the Underworld and could drag the Moirai out by their hair and demand they change it. 

She wanted to sink her teeth into their necks and tear out their jugulars like a wild beast. She wanted to suck the magic out of them, feel all the fates of the world disappear in an instant, plunging everything into the same chaos of her own soul. Which was still howling.

Though, not the howling she could hear.

That was the ghosts. They pressed back into her mind as she stepped into the mortal realm once more. The veil was thin as paper mache and behind it, the ghosts were wailing--though the sound was a mixture of laughter and mourning. It sounded like sirens, telling her what she wanted to hear:

You can find them.

We know where they are.

No we don’t, but we know who does.

“Who?” Artemis asked the empty air as she notched another arrow. 

The one who walks between worlds.

The King.

His Majesty, the small town Board member.

Hades, Hades, Hades, they chanted.

And so, it was to the Ambassador that she sought, her clothes still bloody, dried and cracking with every step. It was dusk and the little shop’s sign had just flipped to close. The door was not locked, however, and Artemis shouldered her way in, bow hanging strung and ready at her side.

“Artemis!” That was his little wife, the silly one whose power was only kindness. A weak and terrible power, if you asked Artemis. Her kindness, her soft heart had lead to all that Artemis raged against now. “What--what happened?” 

Another woman rounded the corner then. One that Artemis had never seen before, but sensed immediately. A werewolf. Good. Artemis was afraid of no beasts. Her head snapped towards the wolf. 

“Careful,” Belle cautioned, turning her head to her friend as well. Her voice was calm and precise. “She can take your magic from you.”