The Master

Aurelia had leaned close to Zariel, holding onto the Azure Candle, heading through the hidden stairwell leading upwards to the unknown. The darkness seemed to thicken, so much so, even Zariel, with his incantations, felt a little helpless. He had spent years learning the Arcane Arts. Years of understanding its Weave. And this was the first time they had seemed to fail him. Not that he needed his eyes anyway. He was a master in the craft of perception. Whether it was perceiving the slight disturbance of air, the ever so faint tremor of the world beneath his feet, or the whiff of his enemies before they struck, Zariel had mastered them all to fill the weakness the heavens branded him with.

"It's dark," Aurelia muttered, stating the obvious.

"We could just walk in silence. Silence is good." The boy responded, tilting his eye to the hard left, where Aurelia lay near his side—letting the Azure Flame, the only source of light that did not seem to wane, no matter the time or how dark it had become, guide there path.

The Young Lass had noticed his attention and regarded him with a lovely smile, "Wanna tell Aurelia a story?" She had asked, drawing a bit closer, knowing of Zariels hatred of physical contact. She loved teasing him.

"A story?" He repeated, curious what was going through her mind. He pondered for a moment, holding his gaze fixed over the young lass, so close he could feel her warmth brushing against his neck. Various feelings not his own had stirred his mind at that moment. He had not been afraid, not truly afraid, since he escaped the Hells, but he knew the feeling. He knew it all too well. Breaking his gaze away, the sensation of fear vanished.

"Are you scared?" He asked, "Are you scared of the darkness."

Aurelia staggered from his side, and her footsteps fell short, shaken by the sudden revelation that pierced her heart. She simply stared. Knowing her dummy was mentally crippled when it came to understanding emotions.

"How do you know?" She asked peevishly.

"I-I don't know," He answered questionably, shaking his head. "Just a feeling. It's how I found this hidden stairwell. I think I connected your feelings to me; how strange. Is it the Weave?" He tried to ponder, but Aurelia had grabbed his shoulder.

"You read my mind?" She grimly asked, feeling exposed.

"I don't think so." He slapped her hands away, a tad annoyed by her constant touching. "Is there a problem?" He then said, taking a step back, perceiving a glint of danger from the lass in his eye.

"Yes," Aurelia swallowed hard, gritting her teeth. Thoughts raced through her mind. Unsure why she was furious, words slipped out one after another, "You invaded my mind! You-You saw my thoughts, read my heart. Those are mine!" She expressed one after another, continuing in an unending fashion.

Zariel was a little blown away, allowing Aurliea to continue to curse his name. After spending almost half an hour in lecture, he nodded, finally understanding why she was so peeved. He had never thought a simple observation would have caused such a reaction. Unsure why she was reacting this way, he simply allowed her to speak her mind—known best when to hold his tongue.

Dragging on, Zariel followed behind, contemplating that strange occurrence that had just happened. A little curious, he fixed his eye on Aurelia, ready to try once more, when suddenly he paused, sensing danger.

Jarred from his thoughts, he frowned as an intangible force began to tangle around him. "Who?" He exclaimed, pulling out his iron sword that morphed into Severance instantly. He drew in a sharp breath, and his katana flashed, severing the Weave, before this strange force, whatever it was, took hold of him.

Collapsing to one knee, sweat swallowed him as a vision of a hand, black as the night, carrying a sinister image of a knife permeated his mind. Sending shivers down his spine.

"The Black Hand," He said.

–

Noctem, Enrilia.

The moon had long since risen over the cloudless skies of multicolored amethyst. Jaded winds rustled frightfully over the barren ruins of the Corsem Empire, wheezing over the empty homes soaked in blood. Chasms running deep into the planet's crust stretched far and deep, revealing only darkness and the scarlet eyes of the beast that lay in its underbelly.

Near the once proud castle of the Corsem Empire, now standing in shattered bits and rubble, stood seven hooded figures, all on one knee. Struggling to stand, they could only fall back to one knee. Sweat dripped from their brow, carrying bits of blood down their necks and back. Their breathing was all horse as they could not believe their eyes.

"What… power," Lord Versinus Alva stammered. He had seen many things, fought in many wars, during his time, as a General in the Army of Noctem, but never had he seen the laws of karma severed in half from its core.

"Lord Versinus, " Torin, hidden beneath his robes, called. "What is that, child? How could he sever the Laws of Karma like it was nothing? The Black Hand will not be please we lost, Ilvina's Grace. Our holy artifact." He lamented that knowing Ilvina's Grace was the core of the Black Hands' way of finding their targets. All that was required was a name and an image.

Versinus grew silent. Catching his breath, he staggered to his feet. "I'll handle the higher-ups." He claimed somewhat confidently. "For now, Torin, Ronan, and Lem'gi, you two are to head to Zephir. I want Zariels head; the rest of you will handle the Lord of Ash. As one of the Imperial Tribunal, he will not take too kindly to our involvement." issuing a few more commands, going into a bit more detail, he dismissed everyone.

Stepping into the shadows of twilight, the howls of the winds skimmed over this body as he stared up at the Planer Moon, known for spreading its light throughout the Plane of Noctem; It was said that only a single moon existed over the endless expanse reaching far and wide.

Versinus reached into his dark cloak and pulled out a small transmitter, a small cube. Holding the Holocube firmly, he placed it on the ground away from the rubble and took a few steps back. a hologram appeared as it morphed into a disk, revealing another hooded figure. "Ilvina's Grace has been lost. Destroyed by the boy, Master."

The Hooded figure lifted the tip of his hood, revealing terrifying darkness that spread throughout his heart—Trembling not to meet his eye, Versinus fell to his knee. He knew his place.

"Master," He first said but was cut short.

"No need. I will speak to Ilvina once more." The Hooded figure's voice coldly addressed. "Observe the boy. There shall be no more mistakes, my apprentice." He added menacingly, and the Holocube when cold to Versinus relief. There were few people he wished to anger. And his Master was at the highest.

He could still remember the torment of those that failed him. Those that had failed, much less crossed them, would often pray to enter the Hells, believing anything was better than their Master's wrath.

The General took a deep breath, surveying the remains of the Corsem Empire, knowing this was his Master's Wrath.