I walked over to them with Erin and Lucia. "All of you need to wait here… no-one else is allowed past the gate."
Once I was out of sight, I spoke aloud, trying to regain my composure. "Anything I come in contact with is now affected by these brands. If I could master the power to use them, Belial, Satan, Lucifer and Leviathan can never touch me. Dantalion would be released of his obligation to sign the oath… and his obligation to be my guardian. I could have my own protection… the power to wield fire."
I hadn't noticed Vine following right behind me down the path. "Do not be fooled girl… the evils that give you that power are tied to something greater than you know. That is why they poison your soul… temptation and persuasion is the way of it for the New Order," Vine voiced aloud.
I broke free of his grip and entered the back door of The Tomb.
I didn't care anymore about temptation or persuasion. I wanted to be in control of my own destiny. Now I would possess the ability to confront both angels and demons. I remembered what Rowan said, about our immortality being what every demon wanted.
I followed a dimly lit passageway through several chambers. An open area was illuminated in flickering light, furnished with a sacrificial altar covered in blood. On the west wall rested four human skulls, bells and an open book. There was a stone burial vault engraved in Roman letters, 'We War Der Thor, Wer Weiser, Wer Bettler Oder, Kaiser? and below the vault in German were the words 'Ob Arm, Ob Reich, im Tode gleich.' From what I can decipher from my religious studies, I translated this to mean, "Who was the fool, who the wise man, beggar or king? Whether poor or rich, all's the same in death."
It doesn't matter what angelic or demonic powers one possesses, the human soul rests not in them, but in man. He shall possess the strength of that soul and maintain his 'faith', but in the end, death comes to us all.
Dantalion was the one light that still remained constant in me… the bond that kept watch as my guardian. His dark eyes fixed on me from across the room, his body shrouded in black. His gloved human hands gripped the hilt of an ancient dagger, silver armor covered over his ring finger like a piece from a medieval gauntlet. He stood at the head of a huge circle in the open room, a pentagram etched into the floor. The same crimson and indigo brands glowed in the center, like the brands on my arms, and I felt them begin to ignite.