Seirion stepped back, still holding the sword.
He had never spoken with the God of the Underworld before.. He knew him by name, from stories told by other gods and humans, but he had never had him face to face.
Vael walked slowly across the rift, which closed behind him with a soft creak. His crown of thorns cast shadows that seemed to move of their own accord.
The heralds bowed their heads.
"Nira, Korr, Syrel," Vael said calmly, without taking his eyes off Seirion. "Return to the Underworld.
Syrel, the masked woman, lifted her head cautiously.
"My lord, it's not necessary for you to deal with this matter. We can…"
Vael raised a hand. The gesture was enough to make her fall silent.
"Return," he repeated.
The three bowed and vanished into the shadows of the rift, which closed again.
Silence fell over the temple.
Only Seirion, Vael, and Erian's body on the altar remained.
Seirion took a deep breath.
