by Bo Reid
The Lost Daughter
Hells Hallow Book One
Bo Reid
Copyright © 2020 by Bo Reid
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover: HQ Artwork
Formatting: Graveyard Formatting & Design
Editing: Edits With a Coffee Addict
For Boo Thang and Day One.
Thank you for letting me be apart of the family.
Contents
Chapter 1
Twenty-Five Years Ago
Eighteen Years Later
Chapter 2
Seven Years Later
Tanda
Chapter 3
Javaraya
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Kalayavan
Tanda
Kalayavan
Chapter 6
Javaraya
Kalayavan
Tanda
Chapter 7
Kalayavan
Chapter 8
Javaraya
Tanda
Chapter 9
Kalayavan
Tanda
Chapter 10
Javarayan
Arius
Chapter 11
Tanda
Ernesh
Chapter 12
Tanda
Javaraya
Dearil
Chapter 13
Tanda
Chapter 14
Arius
Tanda
Chapter 15
Kalayavan
Javaraya
Chapter 16
Tanda
Chapter 17
Ernesh
Tanda
Twenty-Five Years Ago
Chapter 18
Ajal
Chapter 19
Tanda
Chapter 20
Javaraya
Tanda
Acknowledgments
Cult Reid
About the Author
Also by Bo Reid
Chapter One
“Every story has an ending, don’t fool yourself into thinking they’ll all be happy.”
Twenty-Five Years Ago
“We have to, it’s the only way,” Khalida demands as she looks around the room. Each member of her coven stands before her, they have tried to fight, but this is their last chance.
“You cannot be serious, it will kill us!” they say as their mouths drop open in horror at what the coven leaders are suggesting to them. “Maybe not the two of you, but surely us.”
“We will die as well; we are fully aware of what is at stake here. But she will survive; we will weaken him, and when the time comes, she’ll be able to do what we cannot,” Azrail explains as he reaches his hands out towards his wife and takes the baby into his arms. He sways the small child as she blinks up at him. She whimpers slightly, and he brings her close to his chest, planting a small kiss on her cheek before whispering, “You will save everything, My Dark Daughter. You will do what we cannot, and one day we will meet again, I promise.”
“If we cannot convince them, what makes you so sure she will be able to convince their heirs?” they question, motioning to the child in Azrail’s arms.
“Because there will be no other choice,” he says softly. “She is the only hope this world has.”
“This could all be for nothing,” the others plead their tones barely more than a whisper, asking with their eyes for any other way, but there isn’t one. Death is the last resort, a measure taken only in the darkest of times when there is no other way out. But evil walks in the darkness, and the darkness always brings monsters home.
“If we do nothing, we’re all dead anyways; this is the only hope we have to save… everything,” Khalida whispers.
“Since when are we heroes?” a member remarks.
“Since now. We will make this sacrifice because they will not,” Khalida orders her coven, her tone stern and leaving no room for further arguments.
They solemnly nod their heads in agreement.
“I will prepare the spell,” Khalida says.
Khalida spends the next hour preparing the potion and spell that will strip her coven of their powers and transfer them to her baby. The act will slowly weaken the coven members until they die. Azrail holds his daughter closer to his chest as his wife works, soaking up the last moments with the only family he has ever known.
The members of the coven spend their last moments in vastly different ways. Some can be found about the cabin drinking tea and sharing long lost memories with their friends. While others seem to be void of any emotions, the sudden realization of what they must do, numbing them to their surroundings.
“It’s done,” she whispers.
The coven members gather around, each taking a small vial filled with a glowing purple liquid. Once every one of the coven holds their vial, their eyes flicker from the purple liquid towards the baby and back before they down their potion. A chorus of coughing and gagging sounds can be heard through the room, the foul taste bitter on its way down. Azrail places his daughter in the center of the round table, and each of the twelve coven members place a hand on her gently.
Khalida begins the ceremony. “Nostra potestate donatus est tibi filia tenebras, filia matris inmortalium inventioni, filia angelus mortis. Donum onto vestri sumus omnia quae habemus, omnia, quae sunt omnia, ut sit semper futurum. Ut detur vobis in tenebris, ut influunt per venas ejus, et statim vocant tempus vobis est in domum suam.” (Our power is gifted to you, daughter of darkness, daughter of the deathless mother, daughter of the angel of death. We gift onto you all that we have, all that we are, all that we would ever be. We bestow upon you the darkness, may it flow through your veins, and call you home once the time is right.)
There is a faint glow of power that emanates from the coven members, through their hands and onto the child in front of them. Her dark black hair glows with a purple hue, and as the magic flows into her, the purple sinks into her hair, latching on — a reminder of where she comes from.
“Donum autem in nobis es potestates tenebrarum pervadit, ut in vincula testamentum tuam in ecclesia sanctorum de obumbratio, ut sis in caritate perpetua sicut vos ametis, ut se mortem et malum,” Azrail chants. (We gift upon you the powers of evil, may the bonds be forged in the darkest of shadows, may the love that binds you, be everlasting just as death and evil itself.)
Azrail nods to the coven members, and one by one, they take turns bestowing stolen powers onto the child. There is a reason they are the most powerful dark coven across all realms, and no one understands they went where no other coven has gone, they have done things that no witch would think to do.
They stole powers from the oldest known beings to walk the land. Now they’re giving them to the last of their blood.
“Et draco de caelo quae habet in montibus.” (The lightning from the dragon that rules the mountains.)
“Ut praeesset nocti conspectu eorum.” (The sight from those that rule the night.)
“Lunam rectores orbis creaturae quae est auditus.” (The hearing of creatures that rule the moon.)
“Vox potestate ab his quae cantare carmina mortem.” (The voice of control from those that sing the death songs.)
“Vana specie fraud is a dæmonio liberarem.” (The illusion of appearance from the demon of trickery.)
“Et ex pura angeli sanitatem.” (The healing from pure angels.)
“Donum daemoniorum shimmer huc atque illuc.” (The gift of demon
s that shimmer here and there.)
The powers flow into the baby, her laughter echoing throughout the cabin as she flails around, attempting to grab the magic as it flows into her blood. Her parents look down upon her lovingly, tears filling her mother’s eyes. Azrail wraps his arm around his wife, using his other hand to scoop up his daughter.
“It is done,” he whispers to the room.
The coven members nod their heads, turning to walk away, turning to die in peace.
Azrail holds his daughter in his arms, and just before they can turn in to spend their last night with their daughter, a figure appears bathed in blue and white flames. When the flames die down, a dark hooded figure stands before them.
“I believe one more gift is in order,” the deep, demonic voice calls. A black, clawed hand reaches out, gently touching the baby’s hand. “Et ignis in se diaboli et inferos.” (The fire of the Devil and Hell itself.)
Khalida gasps, covering her mouth with her hand as the flames flow onto their child, soaking into her skin as she giggles. She reaches out, grabbing the dark hand and pulling it up towards her face.
“Why?” Azrail asks the hooded figure.
“Consider it a gift, from her favorite grandfather,” he says before the blue flames engulf him once more, and he disappears as suddenly as he arrived.
Azrail hurries away with his daughter and wife to their bedroom. Khalida sits on their bed and watches as Azrail sways their laughing daughter in his arms.
“We’re going to miss everything,” Khalida whispers softly.
“But she will live,” Azrail replies.
“We have to hide her.”
“I have it all worked out; we leave in the morning.”
“Which powers do you think she’ll get first?” Khalida muses.
“Any normal witch would receive their lesser powers first, grow into them and gain more as they learn to control what they have,” Azrail contemplates.
“But, she’s not normal…”
Azrail smiles. “No, she’s so much more. She was always destined to be something great, greater than all other beings. Now… Now she’s going to be everything the world fears.”
“And everything the world needs,” Khalida adds.
She reaches her hand out, and Azrail places his in hers, giving her a gentle, reassuring squeeze.“She’s going to do it, you know that, right?” Azrail says with confidence.
“I know,” Khalida whispers. “And we’re going to miss it all. The first dark witch to save all the realms, and we won’t even bear witness to it.”
A tiny blue and white flame licks across the baby’s skin, she giggles as her eyes grow wide and the flame jumps between her fingers.
“Well, that answers that,” Azrail chuckles.
“Flames of the Devil and Hell itself,” Khalida gasps, moving her hand to cover her mouth.
“We’re going to have to hide that,” Azrail says.
“They’ll never take her if they see that, we’ll have to hide all her dark powers.”
“Until she’s eighteen,” Azrail agrees. “They’ll protect her until then.”
“Only eighteen? She can’t possibly be ready by then,” Khalida argues.
“She won’t be, but after that, she will be sent to—”
“Don’t say it,” Khalida interrupts, her tone a harsh whisper as she glances around the room.
“Khalida,” Azrail says, his tone soft and calming as he reaches for his wife's hand. “I would never put her at risk. They will only take her until she is eighteen because any power binding spell we place on her can only last that long. Judging by what she just displayed, I’m honestly not sure if it will last until then. Either way, she will be taken care of and looked after.”
Khalida nods her head in agreement and sets to work, compressing her daughter’s already-growing magic. Covering her evil powers, capping her magic to prevent her from growing too powerful, too soon.
“You know, by doing this… she’s going to get them all at once, it’s—”
“Going to hurt when they come in.” Khalida nods. “There is no other way; they won’t take her in if she starts to display these powers. There is no other way to keep her safe. And if she displays them too soon, they’ll force her out.” Azrail looks down at his daughter. “She can handle it; she’ll embrace it. She’ll use the pain; she’ll channel it and use it to help her learn to control her powers. I believe in her.”
“So do I.”
The next morning, before the sun has risen over the mountains, Azrail and Khalida set out on their journey. When they show up with their daughter in their arms, they hand her over to a man who should be their sworn enemy. A man who should be afraid of them, but he knows all they have tried to do in an attempt to save… everything.
Even him and his people, for what they have gone through, he owes them a debt of gratitude.
“Goodbye, Tanda,” they whisper, kissing their daughter on her forehead before turning to walk away.
Leaving the most powerful dark witch with a white witch coven. To be raised as a light witch, to be taught spells of healing, life, and ceremonies that do not match her heritage.
She is a ticking time bomb... ready to explode.
The countdown is on.
Eighteen Years Later
Tanda
“Tanda, are you listening to what I’m telling you?” I snap my gaze back to the coven elder and slowly nod my head. Taking a deep breath and steadying my nerves as I feel the twitch of electricity running under my skin. Sparks jump between my fingers tips, but I manage to push them away, to hide them once more like I have done for so long.
“Tanda, we never wanted things to come to this. The burden is too much for any one person to bear, they never should have done this to you,” he whispers. “They took on too much responsibility, and when they couldn’t fix things, they forced that responsibility onto you. It isn’t right.”
“Well, there’s no changing things, is there?” I ask, trying not to sound hopeful, but after everything that was just laid out, hope is all I have left.
Hope and magic.
No family. No friends. No coven.
“Tanda…” his voice trails off, full of despair.
“It’s fine, I understand. It was always meant to come to this, right?” I ask, taking a deep breath and centering myself.
“You can’t stay,” he whispers, “It isn’t safe, for you or us. Not anymore, not since…” he trails off, motioning to the sparks still jumping between my fingertips. My new powers seem to grow stronger each day, becoming harder and harder to hide.
“I always knew I was different, now I know why,” I sigh, pushing myself up from my chair. “Thanks for looking after me.”
I turn, picking up my bag and heading for the large oak office door.
“Be safe Tanda, but remember—”
“I have a job to do, yeah I got it,” I call over my shoulder.
“Ace dark magic alone. Find a bunch of evil fuckers and convince them to work with me and save the entire existence of good and evil as we know it. Yeah, shouldn’t be too hard at all,” I grumble to myself as I walk down the long hallway towards the front door of the coven's main hall. Leaving behind the only family I have ever known. A family that was never mine to begin with. I push open the large oak doors and step out into the blinding sunlight; no wonder I never cared for how fucking bright it is here. I never liked the white robes, the white candles, the cheerful personalities. Everything was just so much, so bright, so happy — and that’s never been me.
Not that I’m not a happy person, I mean I’m fine. It’s just that I don’t need to have a constant smile on my face. At least I have a pretty good excuse for my fucking attitude now — I’m evil; it’s literally in my blood.
“Tanda!” I hear my name being called, and when I turn, I see Michael jogging towards me. I internally groan; I can already tell I’m going to be lousy at goodbyes. I was really hoping to just sneak off into the shadows, looks like t
hat’s no longer an option.
“Hey,” I greet him with a small wave, instantly pulling my hand down when lightning flicks between my fingers.
“Did they figure that out?” he nods towards my hand.
“Yeah, actually, they did. Got a whole history lesson in there,” I joke and throw my thumb over my shoulder towards the building I just came out of.
“Great! So they can fix it,” he says, rocking on his heels, the hopeful tone in his voice can’t be missed, and it nearly breaks my heart to have to tell him the truth.
I bite my lip. “No, Michael, there’s… no fixing it.”
“But I don’t understand. White witches can’t have a dark power,” he responds in a conspiratorial tone as he leans in closer as if sharing a big secret — trust me, I don’t think any secret can top the one I was just told.
“I know, I was in Hereditary 101 too.”
“So that means…” he trails off and takes an involuntary step back.
