A Poignant Chat Ⅲ

Bored or perchance satisfied, Reginald tosses the wand onto the nearest chair. Purposefully, he turns his back on Sanderson, who rushes for his wand. Yet the hairs on the back of Sanderson's neck caused him to freeze in place mere inches away from the tips of his fingers.

"More's the pity," a disappointed tone can be clearly heard in Reginald's voice. The tip of the dagger is mere centimeters away from stabbing right between Sanderson's eyes.

Sanderson pulls his hand back to himself and puts his pride away to beg. "I beseech you, Prince, have mercy. They have done nothing wrong."

The grip on Reginald's wand tightens, but before anything further can occur, the flames turn green. Reginald warily glances at the fireplace as Sanderson seizes the chance and leaps for his wand. Sanderson had just retrieved his wand when he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Sanderson whirls about to face the new threat only to see a tall, slender witch with short, mostly dark with some gray in her hair swept to the side of her head like raven wings stepped out of the fireplace. The resemblance is uncanny to the old Prince leaving no room for doubt, it is Georgine Prince.

"You haven't killed him yet?" Georgine arched in surprise at her older brother. "Truly Reginald, you have gotten old. Such sentiments do not become you."

Reginald sends a cold glare at his sister in response.

"It is fortunate that I do not bear such weak sentiments," Georgine pointedly demonstrated raising her wand to attack.

"Wait!" Sanderson shouted. "Surely we can come to some sort of agreement," holding his wand ready in hand to defend. He didn't have an option now. He had to find the opportunity to flee and call for help.

"An agreement, you say?" Georgine chillingly said with a frigid expression. "Most certainly, Sanderson. All that I ask is that you return that which has been lost."

Sanderson's expression becomes grim. "I thought not," Georgine crisply retorted with venom in her voice. Sanderson takes a step back as Reginald begins to flank Sanderson from the other side.

"You will not succeed," Sanderson futilely warned trying to keep both of them in sight. "My staff will shortly notice your arrival and there will be lasting repercussions."

"Nonsense," Georgine waved her free hand in disdain. "(Kain) Shafiq and (Evan) Avery are managing the front as we speak." She deliberately paused to gloat. "It will be no feat for Shafiq to acquire and absorb this establishment and staff as his own."

"What do you want then?!" Sanderson loudly said. "Do you want me to beg?" His question rang in the air.

Something flashes through Georgine's dark eyes giving Sanderson hope. Despite his injured pride, he slowly lowers his wand, before falling down onto his knees. "Please," he genuinely pleaded for the first time in his life.

Georgine did not lower her wand as an expression of satisfaction flashed across her face. The emotionally wrought atmosphere is interrupted by a loud knock at the door. "What is it!?" She snapped unhappily at being so rudely interrupted.

The door opens a crack to reveal the sharp face of Evan Avery. His widow's peak seems more pointed then again, he is a widower and a father at a relatively young age. "Pardon me, Prince, but Shafiq is growing somewhat impatience. Might we join you?" Evan Avery politely inquired.

"Fine!" Georgine rolled her eyes. "Take all the fun out of it."

Evan Avery opens the door wider stepping inside only to be closely followed by Kain Shafiq. Kain Shafiq is a handsome dark-haired wizard with attractive tanned skin. His features are strong, both proud and solemn. The door shuts quietly behind him as Evan Avery takes in the room and thoughtfully conjures a chair to sit in.

"I must say, this very moment will be eternally seared in my mind," Kain Shafiq aloofly remarked conjuring a chair of his own to sit in.

"What is this?" Sanderson asked rather warily eying the arrival of the two other wizards.

"An interposition," Reginald coldly responded coolly stepping back and tucking his dagger away on his person. Yet his wand remains openly ready at his side.

"Your greed cannot be trusted, Sanderson, but as you have previously mentioned, we have need of your services," Reginald frigidly acknowledged.

Sanderson slowly knows his head as Georgine wrinkles her nose in displeasure at the remark. "What dear Reginald means to say is that both Shafiq and Avery hold investments in our information houses. Yet your enterprise is a sole proprietorship, Sanderson. We are here to remedy that and invest in thine business."

"Do I have a choice?" Sanderson hoarsely asked risking back to his feet. His knees loudly pop causing him to let out a pained grunt. His body simply is not what it used to be.

Giving Sanderson a moment to recollect himself, Kain Shafiq elegantly crosses one leg over the other. "Of course, there is always a choice, Sanderson. Nevertheless, I am certain that you will find this will be the most prudent of options."

Sanderson's expression darkens as Kain Shafiq picks some lint off his clothes. "Mr. Sanderson, we are unfamiliar with each other. Yet you would do well to remember the various debts you owe to the Prince household. The Prince's are in their full right to claim your miserable life and that of your family as payment."

"There are plenty of blood houses that I am certain would be thrilled to have one of your blood among them to service elite clientele," Kain Shafiq purposefully said causing Sanderson to shake with suppressed anger.

"The Prince's are not the only ones," Evan Avery interrupted staring down his nose with disdain. "As do I."

"My family does not forgive a crime against us lightly, Sanderson," Evan Avery brought his face forward his lip curling in rage and disgust. "The Babylon Candle that you sold to Mulciber cost my wife her life."

"It was just business-," Sanderson began to say only to be ruthlessly cut off.

"Marceline was innocent!" Evan Avery howled throwing himself at Sanderson.

Kain Shafiq barely manages to grab the back of Evan Avery's robes in time. Keeping a firm grip on the young man's robes Kain Shafiq hauls him back into his seat. Kain Shafiq does not release the younger wizard until he is certain the young man has calmed down enough to be rational.

Breathing harshly, Evan Avery genuinely says, "My apologies, I let my emotions get the best of me."

"It is perfectly understandable," Georgine knowingly said glancing at Sanderson with old hatred. "A heart can be ruthlessly ripped out and trampled on callously by ignorant blackguards."

"Hypocrite," Evan Avery expressively sneered at Sanderson.

Sanderson had commenced his quest for vengeance against the Dark Lord only upon learning the identity of the murder of his son, Dayn. Ironically Sanderson considers himself exempt from justice or vengeance for the terrible acts he had committed (or had others commit at his bequest). A villain is always exempt from justice.

"Mm, a reminder of who we are is prudent," Georgine said tucking her wand away and holding out her palm to her brother, "lest Sanderson forgets the objective of the lesson."

There is only a faint pause before Reginald places the dagger into his sister's palm. With ease, Georgine twirls the dagger in her head. "Reginald," she said as abruptly cords appear and bind and gag Sanderson where he stands.

Sanderson struggles in vain but the fallen chair is righted and levitated therein. "You and the world have forgotten what the Prince's are, Sanderson," Georgine murmured admiring the sharp edge of the dagger. "However, we have never forgotten our roots."

Georgine approaches Sanderson and leans forward causing Sanderson to lean back against his seat. Georgine leans even further brushing her lips next to Sanderson's ear. "You think yourself, a Percussor, but let me correct your limited imagination, Sanderson."

"You see Rancor Prince hated his children," Georgine whispered into Sanderson's ear. "My father was a monster in every definition of the word. He taught his children to hate. So I will generously demonstrate what I learned at my father's hands."

Sanderson wildly struggles when Georgine begins to carve into Sanderson's left hand leaving his wand hand untouched. "Sanderson, the more you move, the more this will hurt," Georgine chided as though he were an unruly, misbehaving child, and though she was not in fact peeling the flesh off Sanderson's hand.

"Utterly repulsive," Kain Shafiq murmured under his breath but showed no discomfort at the ghastly scene he was seeing. Much less did Reginald, on the contrary, Evans Avery seemed to be greatly enjoying the discomfort of Sanderson.

Finished flaying Sanderson's Georgine steps back to inspect her bloody work. Sanderson's wolfish eyes gleam in the firelight with a light sheen filled with anger, fear, and hatred.

"Remember your place, Sanderson. I was quite generous in not flaying your wand hand. Do not disappoint me," Georgine said before cleaning the blade of the dagger and returning it to her brother.

The bonds and gag vanish leaving Sanderson panting in pain cradling his bloody flayed left hand to his chest. Sweat can be glistening in the light, before slithering down his face. He pants from the pain trying to ignore it and concentrate on the task before him.

"Shall we commence?" Sanderson's jaw is clenched from the pain.

"Indeed, that is what we are here for," Kain Shafiq said as contract after contract flew out of his pocket to unfurl before them. "We have much to look over to ensure our investments are handled and our shares are protected."

Indeed, they did.

And though Sanderson would grow to hate Georgine Prince with a fiery passion. He had no one to blame but himself. T'was he who turned the wheels of fate that led to that ill-fated day. And as much as though he loathed to admit it, his hand would heal, nor could he deny the fact he knew he deserved a far worse punishment than that was granted that evening. A troubling paradox.