Chains of Darkness

Blue and violet fire flickered in sconces, casting dancing shadows on the cold stone walls and dry, dusty floor. On one side of the room an obsidian throne sat in undisturbed majesty. Off to one side of the throne a plain, unadorned altar rested, waiting for use.

An icy breeze moved through the room, whipping up the flames, making the shadows dance madly. The throne that had been empty now held a darkly regal woman.

"Bring in the traitor."

The woman watched impassively as her warrior-priests filed in, leading their prisoner. He was in chains, his clothes were torn, but he carried himself almost arrogantly. No fear shone in those pale eyes, only barely contained fury. It was of no matter. Greater ones than he had learned the meaning of fear in this room. Greater ones than he cried out in pain. One delicate, pale hand clenched in rage on the armrest of the obsidian throne. Then the woman rose, and the chamber grew hushed and still.

"Skardal Kaer, you have been charged with high treason. You have been searching for the whereabouts of one banished for his acts. Do you deny it?"

The prisoner drew himself up proudly. Looking directly at the woman, he spoke. "I do not deny that I was...am searching for my most promising student. He disappeared almost two years ago. Now you say he was banished, and I want to know why."

"He was exiled for high treason," the woman said coldly. "His actions were unbefitting of my children. As are yours."

He stiffened and took a half-step forward, only to be brought up short by the priests on either side of him. They maintained an iron grip on his upper arms and the chains encircling his wrists. "Since when is it treason to wonder about a promising student? When did I ever do anything unbe-"

Whatever he would have said was cut off as one of his guards punched him in the jaw. "Silence, traitor," the man hissed. Skardal glared at him, but remained silent.

"Skardal, Kaer, you are no longer worthy to hold a place among my children." The woman addressed the room. "My judgement is swift and absolute. I am your goddess, and you will see what becomes of those who betray me."

Advancing, the Dark Lady placed one hand on Skardal's face, caressing his bruised cheek gently. Her dark eyes glinted with cruel amusement as he started struggling against his bonds, trying to escape her touch.

"That won't work, little one. You will never escape," she whispered in his mind. There was fear in those pale eyes of his now, fear of her, but it was tightly controlled. That control angered her; it represented a strength in him, a way to overcome trials.

The Dark Lady Psyasis hissed slightly. She would make this...child fear her. An icy smile touched her lips, and she forced her power into his body.

Skardal dropped to his knees, clenching his teeth to keep from crying out. Fire burned along his nerves, in his blood, eating away at him. It drew away his strength, burned his lungs, gnawed at his heart. There was a voice in the fire, her voice. He heard her whispering in his mind above the pain, through the pain, telling him what the pain meant, exactly what was happening. Telling him why it hurt so much, and laughing even as she cursed him, as she shattered his strength, his health, his life. He could feel her dark fire battering his very soul, at his resolve to find his student. Then it destroyed the wall holding his fear at bay and he screamed....

Psyasis reveled in the cry of pain and terror that escaped from her prisoner for several moments before releasing him. He collapsed on the floor at her feet, shivering violently. Sweat drenched his pale face, and his eyes were wide, staring blindly at the far wall.

"Take him away," she said with deadly calm. "Bring him to the surface and leave him there." She watched as the priests hauled the traitor to his feet and dragged him from the room. His head was bowed, but she could see the silent tears of pain and loss trailing down his cheeks.

The Dark Lady gave a cruel chuckle and waved her hand. Once more the lights danced madly. When they stilled, all that remained of her was an echo of that laughter.

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