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Megaera
Demon sorceress
most revered and feared of the Lamashtu Clan
MEGAERA STIRRED THE pot of soup while leering at her prisoner who was tied to a chair at the other end of her butcher table. The old mage had succumbed easily enough to her sharp claws, crying out to no avail as she dug his eyes out of their sockets. She’d shown him a small act of kindness by tying a bandage around his head, only so that he didn’t bleed out before she was finished, for she preferred her meals to be living as she slowly devoured them.
He quietly sobbed as she dumped his eyes in her cauldron. She sang her favorite melody as she stirred the bubbling broth. This time she added a second part, foretelling the downfall of her enemies.
“A mother’s womb
A child’s feet
So many good parts to eat
A farmer’s hands
A maiden’s eyes
Makes delicious human pies
A trollop’s breasts
A sailor’s cock
Tender meat to fill my pot
A shifter’s rage
A dragon’s fire
They shall burn by folly’s pyre
A witch’s tongue
A mage’s eyes
Once again demons will rise”
She lifted the ladle and took a long sip of broth. “Ahh,” she moaned in delight, “the soup is ready. Would you care for a sip?”
She walked up to Thorin, holding the ladle beneath his chin, laughing when he arched away.
“No?” she taunted. “Very well. More for me.” She returned to her soup and took another sip.
Thorin’s eyes had added the perfect flavor, not too greasy with a mild taste. They also contained great magic, for his eyes were the portals where he channeled his mind-spinning. She let the eyes boil a few minutes before scooping them into a bowl and topping them with more broth.
She sucked on the eyeballs, rolling them around in her mouth as they slowly melted on her tongue. When a blast hit her like a thunderbolt, she stumbled to a chair, slumping onto the table while powerful magic coursed through her like a rush of venom.
She convulsed for several minutes, magic flooding and expanding her veins. Then she released a slow breath and sat up. Thanks to Thorin’s eyes, she had enough magic to open the portal. She also had access to everything Thorin had seen in his lifetime, as well as a clear vision of the Avias children. Her veins boiled with power, and she worried that if the old mage’s magic was this strong, she wouldn’t survive eating the white witches. Perhaps if she ate the children first, she would develop a tolerance to Avias magic.
After finishing the eyes, she left the cavern and made her way to her den of demonlings, knowing this surge of Thorin’s magic wouldn’t last long. Her spiders were feasting on the human remains she’d fed them earlier while waiting for their next instructions.
She took the hairbrush that Thorin had foolishly lost and set it on the floor. The demonlings crawled over it, claiming it as theirs as she hissed out her next order. “You will find the children whose hair is in that brush, and you will bring them to me.” Then she turned on a clawed foot and hurried to her spell chamber, her minions following her like loyal dogs, eager for their next meal.
Long streams of dark mist fanned out along the floor like rivulets of ink beading on a marble table. She knelt beside her pool of mist, stirring it with a finger.
“Shadows of darkness
