Tamara took a deep breath and began reciting the secret mantra that granted access to the Shrine. Like all places of worship approved by the Gods, this was a place of power. Trying to enter it any other way would reduce most Sorcerers to smithereens, let alone a Priestess like her.
Holy Priests were not that strong, after all. Their talents laid in healing and comforting others. For this reason, every Priest or Priestess had to pick a Guardian. Those that followed Lyra, the Goddess of Mercy, had to abide by an additional law. It was a sacred rule that Guardian and Priest had to be married to ensure their union would be unbreakable.
How ironic, she thought, that this bond had become the chain that kept them leashed to their captors.
The barrier protecting the entrance flickered out of existence. Only people blessed by one of the Gods could see it. Not even Master Dyne - the man she hated the most - could perceive it, despite being the strongest Sorcerer she had ever met.
"Are we sure it's safe? You are not fucking with us, are you?"
Master Jade, the detestable half-elf, grabbed her by the arm. She recoiled at his touch, a habit she had picked up after spending many nights in his company.
"She's not lying. I can tell from her Brand."
Mistress Diana never let go of an opportunity to remind her of the cursed Soul Brand. Master Dyne had warped their souls, corrupting her Goddess' blessing: a white lotus-shaped mark on her soul she had received during her initiation as Holy Priestess. Now, in its stead, Tamara could see a shiny black lotus that sapped her will to defy her Masters.
The feeling of someone having unrestricted access to her thoughts made Tamara want to retch. The worst part was that Mistress Diana would rent control over her Brand to customers, who were quite eager to pay for the chance to humiliate a Holy Priestess in front of her Guardian. She could only keep one percent of her earnings, the rest going to her Mistress for "management fees."
Tamara needed every copper she could get her hands on to pay for Milo's monthly upkeep. Mistress Diana demanded a thousand gold coins a month to not kill her husband, and she had no choice but to use her free time to keep selling herself on the streets to make ends meet.
"Still, are we sure we can trust this bitch?"
"It's going to be fine, I'm telling you."
"Focus. Both of you."
Master Dyne's curt remark snapped both the tiefling and the half-elf back to attention. Supposedly, the three all shared the same rank in their mysterious organization. However, it was clear to Tamara that Master Dyne was in charge of this expedition.
Before entering the temple, Master Dyne locked Mistress Diana's hands in a heavy pair of metal manacles. A thick, long-chain was attached to them, the other half firmly in Master Jade's hands.
"Remember. We helped you capture Diana, and your husband died in the fight."
"Yes, Master."
Tamara could not oppose this man. He could kill Milo with a thought or make her think or feel unspeakable things. She still remembered how desperately she had begged him in front of her poor husband, who could do nothing but watch. The things she had said that night had broken something deep within Milo. Something she wasn't sure she could mend, even if she didn't have to whore herself out every day.
With bated breath, Tamara entered Luna's Shrine. She was one of the very few people that knew the truth about the Gods. The Holy Priestess knew now that her own life had been a giant, cruel lie. The only contact she had ever had with her Goddess' presence was by interacting with the Shrine of Grace in the Kingdom of Lyra. Nothing more than an Artifact She had left behind to handle blessings in her stead.
Luna was the only Goddess she had ever met in person. Lyra's daughter had appeared to her and Milo one day, out of nowhere. She had explained the situation and recruited them for the craziest plan she had ever heard: invade The Hells directly, and use the element of surprise to break Lyra free.
It was a reckless plan, but it was the only one the Enlightened races had left. Far too weak to contend with Gods and Demons, they could at least fight the Devils that would be hindering Luna's descent into the Forsaken Place.
Nothing of that would happen though, Tamara would make sure of it. Despite Her efforts, Luna would fail. She was far too weak and inexperienced to contend with Asmodeus. Even now, She had no idea the Forsaken One had already foiled her plans. The only reason they hadn't been all killed by Demons and Devils was that Asmodeus didn't want to risk the general public finding out about the truth. The illusion of Heaven kept most people in check, content to live a pointless life, unaware of their true destiny.
For that reason, the Cabal was in charge of kidnapping Luna. Master Dyne had made her an offer she could not refuse. In exchange for the betrayal of everything she had ever believed in, she and Milo would break free from Diana's grasp. They would instead become Angels serving Master Dyne when he ascended to Godhood.
She hated that man, but anything was better than ending up in The Hells after death. If she had to serve him for eternity, so be it. He could be a vicious Master, but the cruelest of Gods would always be far better than the kindest of Devils. She loathed to admit it, but there was also a part of her that had never stopped craving him since the only night they had spent together.
And thus, having made up her mind, Tamara led the wolves in the sheep pen.
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Ivy was lying in a square stone pool filled with lukewarm water, located in the bathing room of their new safehouse. She could feel her cramped muscles releasing the tension accumulated during days of grueling training. If not for Lily's words, Ivy would have begged to not be allowed this relief. She didn't deserve it after what she had done.
"Don't worry. You are going to hate this."
The Remnant had delivered the curt sentence with a soothing voice while making sure the water temperature was just right. Since the day Master had shown Ivy how selfish and pathetic she was, Lily had taken great pleasure in fanning the flames of self-hatred that raged in her heart.
