To Face the Dark

Lord Evlon's hand caressed my cheek, tilting my head until the silver collar caught the purple-tinted light of the crystal enchantment. It was polished like a mirror, revealing my blood-smeared face as a mask of terror. The intricate seventh-level enchantments lacing the silver radiated a faint sense of pressure, adding to the suffocating aura the eighth-level inquisitor's soul emitted.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked.

I shuddered, unable to take my eyes off the Soul Binder. "P-please, no…"

He clicked his tongue. "Disappointing. You've led me on a chase across half the world, but to hear you beg like that…it's just pathetic. How could one so weak cause so much trouble?"

"You can't make me," I said, finally tearing my eyes away and meeting his gaze. "I'll never willingly accept the Soul Binder!"