In godly halls, Valkas stood, stature tall,

Master of anti-magic's potent thrall.

Burdened heart with sins concealed within,

New age beckoned, a tale about to begin.

To his brother, Antioch, his voice did call,

Godly power's weight, a potent sprawl.

Valkas saw his magic too immense to steer,

Sealing it away, choices crystal clear.

Antioch, the ever-eager, played a daring game,

Accepting Valkas's power, no sense of shame.

Dark magic flowed 'twixt kin, brother to brother,

Valkas turned Hermit, unlike any other.

Antioch, now ablaze with power's burning might,

Unpredictable force, a celestial light.

Twisting 'twixt darkness and beams so fair,

God of mischief born, a vibrant flare.

Valkas, as the Hermit, tranquil and serene,

Roamed the world, where he had been.

Earth's and heaven's secrets were his gain,

To willing learners, he shared his reign.

Valkas, the Hermit, and Antioch, god anew,

Distinct their powers, yet a bond that grew.

Not the might they held, in its grand finesse,

But fraternal love, timeless, to impress.

As the echoes of the dream still reverberated in her mind, Harahel's heart raced, and a deep sense of unease settled over her. The visions of Taliesin's pain and the ominous words "Antioch knows" had left an indelible mark on her psyche. She knew that she couldn't ignore the urgency of the situation any longer.

Just as she was lost in her thoughts, a knock at her door startled her. Harahel's gaze flicked to the entrance, her senses on high alert. With cautious steps, she approached the door and opened it slightly, revealing the old warlock standing there, his gaze intense and unyielding.

"Harahel," he murmured, his tone hushed and deliberate. "I've returned to inquire whether you've reconsidered my proposal. I'm prepared to aid you in extracting the answers you desire from Antioch."

Harahel regarded him warily, her emotions in turmoil. The old warlock's offer was tempting yet treacherous, a path that could lead her into even deeper deception and manipulation. She had faced so many twists and turns, and the presence of this enigmatic figure only added to her doubts.

"Why would you help me?" Harahel asked, her voice laced with skepticism. "What do you want in return?"

The aged warlock wore a subtle smile on his lips, though his eyes remained enigmatic. "I have my reasons, and they align with yours, at least for the moment. I, too, want answers from Antioch, but our goals are not entirely the same."

Harahel's mind raced, torn between her reservations and the desperation that gnawed at her heart. She knew that the old warlock's involvement could lead her down a dangerous path, but the darkness of her dream, the specter of Taliesin's pain, haunted her thoughts.

"Tell me your plan," Harahel said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions within her.

The old warlock's smile deepened, and he leaned in slightly, his words a whisper meant only for her ears. "I have methods to extract the truth from him, and you will have your answers."

A frown formed on Harahel's forehead, her thoughts a tumultuous whirl. The idea of forcing Antioch to reveal what he knew was tantalizing. But the old warlock's presence, his hidden motives, cast a shadow over the situation.

"I won't be a pawn in your game," Harahel said, her voice tinged with defiance. "If we're going to do this, it will be on my terms. No tricks, no hidden agendas."

The old warlock's expression remained unreadable, but he nodded in agreement. "Very well, Harahel. Your terms it is.

Harahel's resolve hardened. She was well aware of the risks, and the uncertainty that lay ahead. But her determination to find Taliesin and to uncover the secrets surrounding Antioch's role was unshakable.

"Fine," she said, her voice steady. "We'll do it your way. But know this, old warlock, I'll be watching you every step of the way."

The old warlock's smile widened, his eyes glinting with something that Harahel couldn't quite decipher. "As I'll be watching you, Harahel. Our destinies are intertwined now, for better or worse."

As Harahel and the old warlock left her cottage, the night air felt heavy with anticipation. The moon cast its silvery glow upon the path before them, and the forest seemed to hold its breath. Unbeknownst to them, Gadriel was following, her presence like a phantom weaving through the trees.

As the old warlock and Harahel ventured deeper into the cave, the air grew heavy with tension. The flickering light from their torch cast eerie shadows on the walls, creating a sense of foreboding that matched Harahel's inner turmoil. She couldn't shake the feeling that this path was a dangerous one, but the urgency of her quest pushed her forward.

Antioch's bound form lay in the heart of the cave, his enigmatic gaze fixed on the approaching figures. He seemed almost amused by their presence, his smirk a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation. "Well, well, what have we here?" Antioch drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Harahel, my captor, and a new companion. How delightful."

Harahel ignored his taunts, her gaze fixed on the old warlock beside her. She could feel the weight of their agreement, the uncertainty of what would transpire in this place. The old warlock's presence held an air of grim determination, his intentions veiled in shadows.

"You're here to extract the truth from him," Harahel said, her voice steady. "And I want answers about Taliesin's disappearance."

The old warlock's gaze met hers, his eyes unreadable. "I have my methods," he replied cryptically.

Antioch's eyes flickered between them, amusement dancing in his gaze. "A warlock my love?" he mused. "And I thought you were desperate with the witches."

The old warlock stepped forward. "Antioch the Heretic," he said, his voice firm, “It's time for you to answer for your actions."

Antioch's smirk didn't waver, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he was taking the situation more seriously than he let on. "Ah, the righteous avenger and the curious interrogator. How quaint."

Harahel's fingers tightened around the handle of her torch, her resolve unwavering. She couldn't let Antioch's words, or his demeanor sway her. She had come here for answers, to unravel the truth that had been obscured by manipulation and deception.

The old warlock stepped closer to Antioch; his gaze locked onto the captive god. "Let us begin.”

As Harahel watched, a feeling of unease settled over her. The old warlock's confidence was both reassuring and unsettling. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was stepping into a web of manipulation once again, that the line between justice and revenge was a thin one.

The old warlock began to chant, his words a mixture of ancient incantations and whispered commands. The air in the cave grew charged, a palpable energy enveloping the space. Antioch's form tensed, his eyes narrowing as he fought against the magical force that held him captive.

Harahel's grip on her torch tightened, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to trust the old warlock's methods, and his promise to extract the truth from Antioch. But doubt still lingered, fueled by the memory of Thalia's taunts and the dream that had shaken her to her core.

As the incantation continued, the air seemed to crackle with energy. Harahel's gaze remained fixed on Antioch, his struggles growing more pronounced. But even as the magical force intensified, a twisted smile played at the corners of Antioch's lips.

"Is this your grand plan, old warlock?" Antioch's voice was laced with defiance. "To use your feeble magic to pry answers from me? You underestimate the complexity of my truths."

Harahel's chest tightened. She had to know the truth, to uncover what had happened to Taliesin, and to understand Antioch's role in it all. But as the confrontation unfolded before her, doubt crept in once again. Could she trust that the old warlock's methods would lead to the answers she sought? Or was she being drawn into another manipulation, a new layer of deceit?

The cave seemed to pulse with energy, the tension growing with each passing moment. Harahel watched as the struggle between Antioch and the old warlock reached its climax, a battle of wills that held the promise of revelation and danger.

"Stop!" Gadriel commanded, voice resonating through the cave, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade.

The old warlock's incantation wavered; his attention was briefly disrupted by Gadriel's unexpected appearance. The magical energy that had enveloped the cave began to dissipate, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake.

Harahel's gaze shifted between Gadriel and the old warlock, uncertainty etched across her features. Antioch's smirk widened. "Ah, the plot thickens," he mused.

"Who are you to interfere?" the old warlock retorted. “I am a loyal disciple to this ridiculous god. If you kill him, I will have to find another one and I do not have the energy for that.” Gadriel said, her luminous eyes remaining locked onto the old warlock.

“He is not trying to kill him,,” Harahel said “We just need the truth about Taliesin.”

"Truth," Gadriel's voice carried a tone of disdain as she spoke to Harahel. "The truth about Taliesin, about his disappearance and his fate, it all lies with him," she pointed to the old warlock, her words laden with a weight Harahel struggled to comprehend.

The old warlock's resolve seemed to intensify as he regarded Gadriel, his fingers curling around the hilt of his staff. The warning in her words seemed to fuel his determination rather than deter it. With a swift and practiced motion, he raised his staff and began to weave intricate patterns in the air, his incantation laden with ancient power.

Recognizing the danger, Gadriel moved to step back, her intention to fade into the shadows once again. But before she could fully evade the spell, the warlock's incantation took hold.

Ribbons of iridescent light shot forth from the tip of the old warlock's staff, intertwining and wrapping around Gadriel's form. She struggled against the magical bonds, her efforts creating ripples of light that illuminated the cave walls. The binding spell held fast, its power fueled by the warlock's determination and the very fabric of the ancient incantations he had invoked.

 Harahel watched as Gadriel's form became encased in the glowing ribbons of magic. Gadriel's struggles against the binding spell grew more pronounced. The old warlock lowered his staff, his breath heavy with the effort of the spell. The ribbons of light that bound Gadriel shimmered and pulsed, holding her captive within their intricate embrace.