Atia's Legacy Sewers were the underworld of today. Where in times of yore, tunnels and burrows sufficed for cavernous places of inhospitable murk, now existed drainage systems of filth and filtration. The dispossessed, dead and demonic roamed here, out of civilisation's way.
And it stank.
Stank of refuse, death and decay. A stench the recent visitor to this realm had long since grown accustomed to. Countless hours of wading through parasite-infested swamps, breathing in the fumes of toxic jungle vegetation and more, had all done their share of hardening her to the elements. Where the squeaking of rats could be heard, there was little cause for alarm. She had known far worse. Had hunted far worse.
"Speak, witch."
The blonde spoke to the surrounding darkness without slowing her pace in the slightest. From out of the gloom, pale white features framed by ebony now surfaced into reality's gaze, offering their owner a more solidified breed of presence. Still, though, one able to float, gliding along in its accompaniment of the traveller in its midst.
"I'd be offended, were I not to think you spoke that with fondness," Elfleda reasoned, diplomatically. "But I'm afraid your previous benefactor is presently... Somewhat indisposed."
"I struck no bargains with you. I speak with Atia or none, at all."
"Darling Atia remains quite out of reach for you, Cassandra... You represent my bridely sister's sin of selfishness in the face of Leviathan. You were a private exploitation."
"I know what I was. It changes nothing. The arrangement was profitable."
"Yes... Ever the bargain, ever the bargained. Atia's methods were... I believe the phrase 'tough love' is familiar to even your time."
Failing to elicit a verbal response did nothing to deter the Corruptress. This was not a place of light, nor was this one's aura in the least bit clean. On the contrary, the blonde was no champion of light. That line had been crossed long ago.
"I know your purpose here, Cassandra. That which you seek. What you did to arrive here... An impressive feat, in itself. Know only that your task is rooted in shadows, Cassandra... That makes it my domain. That makes it Leviathan's. What Atia would have approved is now inconsequential. Do not squander your blessings, lest they count against you."
That was when the inexplicable happened and Elfleda was turned upon, held by her throat against the tunnel wall. This was not something any ordinary mortal was allowed or even ordinarily capable of doing. There was a reason for the Corruptress allowing her this liberty. But then, it was not a physical submission; the one addressed as Cassandra was not physically contacting against the hellish diplomat's skin. Her hand was poised in a grip, yet a thin barrier of air could be detected between the woman's fingers and the damned brunette's neck.
She held her in a grip, but it was not one composed of flesh and bone.
"If Atia can no longer speak, then she can no longer request my services, shadow creature. You want me for what I now have... Consider yourself disappointed."
Under other circumstances, Elfleda's entourage would have set upon any who threatened her. In this instance, they had been held deliberately in check. Mentally waved off. She simply waited for the moment to pass, allowing her talkative companion to walk by, continuing on her way, while Elfleda lingered in one place, looking on in passive observation.
"No, Cassandra," spoke she in distant contemplation. "I want you for what you're intending to do'."