A Pale Shade of Night

A Pale Shade of Night

Chapter 4: Dark Lord Visits to Assess His Soul Hunter and Piques Her Interest

Arcana awoke at Shelly's insistent prodding. She lay still, not really wanting to move, or even to be conscious.

"Lady must get up," said Shelly hurriedly. "Master wishes to see Lady Arcana at noon, in one hour."

Arcana was instantly awake. Why in all the fiery hells had she wanted to see the Dark Lord so soon? Ah yes, she remembered bitterly. The last time she had waited too long, in his opinion, to speak with him, his reaction had led to her current condition.

'It would be better to just get it over with,' she repeated to herself, but she was still anxious.

Arcana vaguely remembered the Dark Lord saying that she had repaid him in full for her "abandonment," but most memories of that time were blurred by pain. She sighed, and resolutely dragged her body over to the potions again, cringing. Everything still hurt, though the aches had faded a bit since yesterday.

Arcana rubbed her eyes, mixed up the wonderful painkiller, and drank it quickly. She set down the goblet and stretched with a yawn, feeling most of the pain fade. A cup of tea sounded very nice, but she didn't think she could stomach anything else at the moment.

Shelly was still standing on the bed, as far from Nagini as possible. The house elf kept looking between Arcana and the snake, acting rather jittery, as usual.

"Does Lady Arcana require assistance?" Shelly asked brightly.

"I think I can manage on my own for now, Shelly," Arcana replied, "though I may call you back after Lord Voldemort's visit." Depending on his mood, Arcana might need help badly.

"Shelly will come. Shelly just wishes to be of service to you, Lady," said the house-elf before Disapparating. Shelly must have been quite eager to get away from Nagini. It was usually much harder to discourage her from helping.

Arcana washed, and then dressed in dark blue robes, moving slowly, wary of her injuries. She made her way to her living room, and lit a fire in the stone fireplace with a wave of her hand. With a sigh, Arcana sat down on a couch near the fire and glanced at the delicate silver and crystal clock that floated above the intricately carved mantel. She had fifteen minutes.

It looked as if the room had not been touched in the fifteen years she had been away, except, perhaps, by the house elves.

The room was an odd mixture of human and fae influences. Old wizarding books sat next to fae crystals and elvish scrolls. A few Muggle artifacts also graced the room, but Arcana kept most of her material on Muggle science in a back workroom where the Dark Lord seldom went. It was foolishly shortsighted of him to dismiss the work of centuries just because it was non-magical, but Arcana would not bring up that sore point, especially since she was still struggling with the material. The dry logic warred with her deep, intuitive understanding of magic, and she often only got a headache out of her efforts to comprehend it.

The feelings of horror, fear, and betrayal rose up from the depths of Arcana's mind. She gritted her teeth and forced them back down. They were still very strong, constantly swirling under her mental barriers, constantly trying to push their way out again.

She looked at the clock again, tensing. Five minutes left until he would arrive. She hated this kind of waiting. Weighing the possibility of unpleasant side effects, Arcana opted to take more of Snape's painkilling potion. She was sick of being in pain before the Dark Lord.

Arcana summoned the potions, mixed a smaller dose, and drank it in one gulp. She then placed the bottles and goblet on an empty shelf, not trusting her slightly shaky wandless magic to banish them back to her bedside table properly. Another aftereffect of what was fast becoming her least favorite curse.

Arcana looked at the clock once more. It was noon.

A knock on the door startled Arcana. She cautiously sent her awareness beyond it and immediately recognized the Dark Lord's mental signature. Arcana took a calming breath and crossed the room, reminding herself that it really was better to do it now. It would only be worse if she waited.

She opened the door and bowed her head. "My lord," Arcana respectfully greeted the Dark Lord, stepping aside to allow him entrance.

The tall wizard's heavy black robes brushed against Arcana's ankles as he glided inside. She shut the door and turned to the Dark Lord, gesturing toward the fireplace.

"If my lord wishes, we can sit by the fire," Arcana said quietly, unable to meet the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Look at me, my hunter," the Dark Lord commanded.

Arcana slowly lifted her eyes to the Dark Lord, fingers twitching nervously as her emotions began to rise. She thought they were her own, but was not certain. While Arcana could not read the Dark Lord's cold expression, she could see no anger in his crimson eyes, nor any tension in his stance.

The wizard studied her.

The first touch of the Dark Lord's mind caused Arcana to flinch and step back.

"Be still," the Dark Lord hissed harshly. He took Arcana by the shoulders, preventing her from moving away.

Arcana shuddered, but held still out of fear. The Dark Lord's long fingered hands clenched tightly around her shoulders like steel vices as his red eyes slid half shut in concentration. He continued to probe Arcana's mind and magic. It was as unpleasant and prickly sensation, as if spiders were walking over her shoulders and cold water was trickling down her spine simultaneously.

One hand slipped down her left arm, toward the Dark Mark branded on her forearm. Cold dread swelled, but the Dark Lord's hold prevented any response.

Arcana cried out when the Dark Lord's hand came over the Mark. It flared painfully, even though her robes prevented direct contact. She jerked out of his grip with such force that she hit the wall behind her. Gasping for breath, she clung to the stone, trying to clear her mind.

Thoughts and emotions overlapped, confusing Arcana. They flashed across her consciousness, blurring reality.

Abandoned me in shadow.

Left me to die in the mortal world.

Feared my power.

I am afraid.

Hated them all, they hated me.

I will make them all pay for what they did.

For what who did?

The wizards.

The fae.

The Muggles.

I do not want to die.

Arcana was sure she was going mad. It was worse than before and this time she could not stop it. She wanted to scream, but she could not.

Then without warning, it was gone.

Shaken, Arcana opened her eyes. Sweat dripped down her face and back. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as she caught her breath. What had the he done to her? She wanted nothing more than to sink to the floor and huddle against the wall to glean some small comfort from the cool stone.

Then she remembered that the Dark Lord was standing before her.

Arcana turned to see the Dark Lord looking back at her, his brow furrowed. Whether it was with irritation or concern, Arcana could not tell. She stared up at him silently, afraid of his reaction to her direct disobedience.

"That is not what I expected," the Dark Lord said gravely, "nor what I desired."

Arcana remained still, feeling confused. She tensely waited for a sign of his ire, but none appeared.

"Perhaps," the Dark Lord continued slowly, grimacing briefly in distaste, "I let my anger overrule my judgment on this."

It took a few moments for Arcana to process what she had heard. Was he apologizing? If that was an actual apology, Arcana doubted she had a good reply. Instead, she bowed her head in tired acceptance, feeling exhausted already.

"Come and sit before you pass out again," the Dark Lord said briskly. "Your fool stubbornness will do me no good if you cannot even stand when I need you hunting."

Arcana warily moved away from the wall, towards the Dark Lord. When she was even with him, the Dark Lord placed a hand on her back and guided her to the smaller of the two chairs in front of the fire. It had become her chair during such meetings and was still rather large for the small fae.

Arcana sat down shakily, rather unnerved. The Dark Lord was acting very inconsistently. He could just be trying to put her off guard, or perhaps he did lose his sanity during his time without a body.

The Dark Lord regally took the seat opposite Arcana. The loose sleeves of his robes draped over the armrests, reminding Arcana of the veil of death that the Ministry of Magic guarded so carefully.

She steadily met his red gaze, wanting to show him that her will was still strong, despite what had just occurred. If the Dark Lord recognized her stare as a challenge, he paid it no mind.

"Now that you are conscious and capable of coherent thought, I believe we have a conversation to continue." The Dark Lord paused for a moment. "What do you remember, hunter, from the last time we spoke?"

Arcana saw the stark white skin around his eyes crease slightly. There was something important about how she answered. Arcana thought back, trying to sort out the pain fogged-memories.

"You said I had repaid my debt to you in full, my lord, for," Arcana paused trying to find an appropriate wording, "not coming to your aid after the Killing Curse rebounded and left you in shadow." She then added hopefully, "And for not answering your summons promptly." Arcana was not sure about the last part, but she had to try. It disgusted her to speak that way, but it would be the best way to survive this conversation unharmed.

"Yes," the Dark Lord affirmed with a chilling hiss. "It would have been unwise to leave those wrongs unpunished. The matter is now closed and I will leave it in the past." Arcana silently thanked whoever might have been watching over her for that one small miracle.

"I will need to work with you closely regarding the direction of my research and such tensions would only hinder my progress."

Curious, Arcana tilted her head and gave the Dark Lord a questioning look. She had done more than just hunt in the past, but the work was always independent, and, she admitted, quite profitable. But this sounded different. She had never worked with the Dark Lord.

"Ah, curiosity," the Dark Lord remarked, noticing Arcana's interest. "Have patience, Arcana. I will satisfy it shortly."

His tone worried Arcana. There were many powerful Dark magic rituals that required multiple casters. The situation could get very ugly, very fast. Not that it was pleasant now.

"But first," he continued, a stern note creeping back into his voice, "do you recall anything else about the conversation we had earlier?"

Arcana shuddered. How could she forget the Dark Lord's warning?

"Yes, my lord," Arcana said quietly. "You said that if I did not obey you, the consequence would be-" She paused, words stuck in her throat.

"What?" The Dark Lord asked darkly.

Arcana looked down and whispered, "The loss of what freedom you grant me." The loss of my peace of mind, as well as what little remains of my happiness and my life, Arcana continued in thought.

"Yes, my hunter. Freedom," the Dark Lord hissed. "You can endure much, but not the loss of freedom. Do not force me to take away what I so graciously give to you."

"I will do what I must," replied Arcana, her voice full of resignation. She would do what she had to, but it might not be what the Dark Lord wanted. Sometimes freedom was death, and if that were the only way, Arcana would take it. That was one secret she had to keep from the Dark Lord at all costs.

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Arcana relaxed her mental shields to let him see her sorrowful acceptance. She felt the light brush of his mind, and was relieved that he pulled back instead of trying to probe deeper.

He inclined his head in acknowledgment of Arcana's openness. "Yes, hunter, I am sure you will. You are, above all else, a survivor." His lips curved in a cold smile. "Which is something I do admire."

Yes, Arcana was a survivor, but fae could not survive without the freedom the Dark Lord threatened to deny her. Even now madness and death waited to take her, hovering above on black wings.

They both sat quietly, Arcana pensive and the Dark Lord near brooding. The Dark Lord broke the silence.

"Is that all you remember?" the Dark Lord asked. "I do not wish to repeat myself needlessly, hunter."

Arcana held back a rather sarcastic remark, figuring that the Dark Lord rather enjoyed hearing her repeat his words instead.

She thought back again. There was more, and there something she wished to ask, but she couldn't remember. She only recalled one other thing clearly.

"The last thing I remember, my lord, is that you claimed lordship over myself and possession of my person," Arcana responded as neutrally as possible, shoving her burning shame out of sight. Of course, what he really wanted was to have power over her very soul, but Arcana swore he would never have it.

"Yes, hunter," the Dark Lord hissed, "and you would do well to remember it." A cruel smile twisted his lips. "As I will not hesitate to remind you, should your memory become selective."

Arcana remained silent, not trusting her ability to reply civilly. He could claim whatever he wished, but she would not honor it. She would not be mastered by anyone.

Something hissed, and the Dark Lord turned away from Arcana.

Nagini had finally left her nest on Arcana's bed and slithered up to the Dark Lord. He gestured to the large black snake and Nagini raised her body off the ground, twisting to lay some of her coils on the Dark Lord's lap. Nagini then continued to move, wrapping around his shoulders and turning her head to face her master.

"It hasss been very dull hhhere," Nagini hissed to the Dark Lord, sounding slightly miffed. "Nothhhing happensss."

The wizard looked genuinely entertained by his familiar. It was a rare sight, and Arcana hoped that Nagini's presence would improve his mood.

The snake sinuously swung her head toward Arcana, and then turned back to the Dark Lord. "Sssshe ressted, as you wisshed."

"Good," the Dark Lord hissed back in Parseltongue, "You have done well, Nagini."

The snake preened under the Dark Lord's attention.

"I think that my fae is well enough to be left alone now," the Dark Lord continued to hiss in what Arcana thought was a rather amused tone. "I am sure I can find something more interesting for you to do."

Nagini hissed back at the Dark Lord in pleasure. The wizard smiled.

Arcana was struck at the oddly poignant picture before her. There was beauty to it. Perhaps it was something only a fae abomination would see, but there was beauty all the same, and she was drawn to it. Arcana slid into a half-trance, unnoticed by the Dark Lord.

As only one of fae blood could, Arcana opened her mind to the unseen. She watched the ebb and flow of the magic about the two before her. She felt it resonate with her own magic and the magic of the fortress and of the earth. It was almost in perfect harmony. Light, color, and shadow breathed. The energy swirled in patterns that were familiar, but new in their own right.

Arcana sat in wonder. It was beautiful.

Then she saw it. Awestruck, Arcana traced strands of High magic as they twined throughout the patterns, shining as if wrought from the silver stars. How could this be? Humans could not wield High magic.

Something intruded upon Arcana's meditation. She refocused her eyes onto the mundane world and found that the Dark Lord was speaking to her.

"-hear me?" Arcana caught the end of the Dark Lord's question.

His voice broke her concentration and the vision faded. Arcana blinked, confused.

"What, my lord?" she asked.

"Apparently not," the Dark Lord replied, irritated.

Arcana realized that she must have fallen deeper into the trance than she had intended.

"Sorry, my lord. I lost myself for a moment," Arcana explained meekly, feeling only half repentant. "It will not happen again."

"Lost yourself, my hunter?" the Dark Lord questioned. "Perhaps I have something that will improve your concentration." He reached into his robes.

Arcana froze in fear. She had tried so hard not to anger him. She could not handle another round of the Cruciatus Curse, physically or mentally.

From his robes, the Dark Lord withdrew something small. He looked up and saw Arcana's face just as her fear melted.

"Despite what you believe, I am not completely merciless," the Dark Lord said coldly. "I see your weakness..." A cruel smile touched his lips. "...And I need you healed. Make no mistake, hunter, I will master you eventually, but not at the cost of your usefulness. Though, you are not completely useless to me as you are." He leaned forward, offering the small object to Arcana. Nagini shifted to remain twined around her wizard - the territorial claim was obvious, though Arcana thought the jealousy was misplaced.

Arcana reached out, and the Dark Lord dropped the item in her hand. The hum of old power vibrated against her magic, and firelight glinted off of a ring of fae craftsmanship now cradled in her palm. This must have been what she had sensed earlier. Arcana held the small ring up to examine it more closely, admiring the single fiery red stone held in a heavy gleaming mithril setting.

"Where did you find this?" Arcana asked breathlessly. She had not thought anything so powerful, old, and obviously fae still remained in Wizarding hands.

The Dark Lord gave Arcana a thin-lipped, enigmatic smile, savoring her curiosity. "You once told me how the Slytherin family aided the fae during the Dark Days, when wizards turned against them and slaughtered each and every one that could not flee," he said mysteriously. "Apparently my ancestors did more than even you knew, my fae."

The Dark Lord's smile took on an almost teasing quality. Nagini was definitely having a positive impact on his mood. Plus, he always enjoyed having the upper hand in conversations, especially when in possession of information Arcana dearly wanted. Her curiosity overrode her annoyance at his machinations.

"What do you mean, my lord?"

"While surveying one of the libraries, I triggered a secret lock," the Dark Lord said, looking very pleased with himself, "and discovered a large storeroom filled with artifacts that the fae had given to the Slytherins for safe keeping." An arrogant smirk pulled his thin lips upward.

"How large, my lord?" Arcana asked further. In those terrible years, the fae were desperate, fighting off the wizards that sought to hunt them down as they fled from this mortal world, but to leave behind such powerful and precious works was both shocking and saddening. To find fae relics here, during her own dark days, brought forth conflicting emotions. Arcana stamped them out quickly, worried they would cause another attack.

"More than large enough to keep you occupied," he said, remaining annoyingly vague. "Tomorrow, when you are more well-rested," he said sternly, "I will bring some texts for you to study. I would imagine you don't often come across fae books these days, my hunter."

He had really piqued Arcana's curiosity now. She had not found a new fae book in nearly two centuries, despite having searched diligently. She had sought to acquire all fae relics she came across in her travels and thus there were not many left on the free market. Discoveries like this were exactly why she had begun to work for the Dark Lord all those years ago. No one else currently alive had such interesting or challenging work and, unlike most wizards, he could afford her rate.

It was pathetic, but he had her again, though at the moment she did not care. If there was no escape from this life, she might as well enjoy what she could.

"I look forward to it, my lord," Arcana said. "There is much to learn."

"This pleases me greatly, Arcana." The Dark Lord stroked Nagini's smooth scales.

To Arcana, he seemed quite pleased indeed. She hoped that he would stay that way, but she knew that was doubtful. The Dark Lord would remain happy with Arcana's work for a time, but soon it would not be enough and he would begin to demand more: more work and more control.

"You are sad, my hunter," the Dark Lord said. Arcana realized that she had let her emotions show. "Do you not want to please me?"

He stood. Nagini hissed in resignation and slithered back to the floor. Arcana's cheek twitched as he approached. The Dark Lord extended his hand to Arcana. She took it and stood, the ring still clutched in her other hand. Arcana's body was beginning to ache again. She met his crimson eyes tiredly, wishing to find relief and seeing none.

"Will pleasing you win me back my freedom?" Arcana asked sadly, starting to drift off again, and not considering the impact of her words. While the Dark Lord allowed her some degree of autonomy, the Dark Mark on her arm kept her a prisoner to his whims, as well as subject to his anger and obsession.

The Dark Lord looked down at Arcana, and his eyes grew cold. "You will accept my lordship, soul hunter. You are mine." His grip on her hand tightened. "And I know you understand, Arcana. You simply deny the reality that you fear and grasp for that which no longer exists."

Beyond the ache in her heart, something in his words stuck Arcana. Understanding. There was something else she understood. It was all blurred.

The Dark Lord grasped Arcana's chin with his free hand, breaking her train of thought. He did not look happy. She must have lost herself again.

Arcana snapped back to reality, and was horrified that she had spoken so freely. The words tumbled out frantically, "Forgive me, my lord. I should have not spoken such."

Arcana tried to bow her head, but the Dark Lord kept his grip on her chin firm. "No," the Dark Lord replied with a low hiss, "I am sure you did not intend to say it, but I know it is in your thoughts."

It kept getting worse. No matter what she tried, it always got worse. Could she not even win one battle with the Dark Lord? A wave of exhaustion overtook Arcana and she swayed on her feet. She would have fallen if the Dark Lord had not grasped her arms to steady her.

"You are still very weak," the Dark Lord said, his eyes flashing with concern. Arcana held still, fearful that he would become angry again. He shifted his grip and then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You have not eaten," he admonished Arcana.

"I only awoke yesterday, my lord," Arcana said nervously. "I cannot stomach anything but the potions and," her voice trembled, the painful emotions welling up again, "have not had time to ask for your aid."

"Are you asking me now, Arcana?" the Dark Lord asked slowly, his voice serious. His red eyes bored into Arcana.

Arcana held back a shudder. She hated this. "Yes, my lord," Arcana whispered, hoping that no tears would fall from her eyes. "I am asking for your help." She hated appearing weak before anyone, let alone the Dark Lord. She hated needing his assistance even more.

"You please me again, Arcana," the Dark Lord said, although still looking concerned. "I will overlook your transgression today, but only because you are still recovering. I will not be so lenient in the future."

Arcana held back a flinch when his expression became severe. "Don't make me punish you again, hunter," he warned darkly. "I will not be so merciful next time, and I would become most irritated if you forced me to delay my plans because you were unable to hunt."

"I understand, my lord," Arcana said, not needing to fake her subdued tone. She shuddered at the memory of her last punishment. "I have no wish to feel that again."

"That was the idea, my hunter," he replied archly.

The Dark Lord released Arcana and stepped over to the fire. Nagini followed him and coiled up on the warm stone near his feet. Arcana thought the room's temperature was quite comfortable, but the Dark Lord rarely turned away from a roaring fire.

The crackling flames highlighted his grim features in red and gold. He tilted his head in a serpentine fashion and sent Arcana a questioning look, waiting for her to speak.

Arcana sighed. He always seemed to know. There was one thing that had been bothering her since she had awoken. It felt awkward to bring it up, but she could not risk mental instability, and the Dark Lord was in a more reasonable mood for the moment.

"My lord, those emotions you projected, will they fade?" Arcana asked apprehensively.

"Ah, yes those," the Dark Lord murmured thoughtfully. "They should have lessened, if not faded completely, by now." He observed Arcana with a critical eye, considering his next words.

Chaotic emotions swirled in Arcana mind, but she did not allow herself to shrink back from the crimson gaze. She tightened her fist around the ring, wishing she could draw strength from it.

"This strong reaction speaks of similarity, my hunter," the Dark Lord continued. "Perhaps we are more alike than either of us thought."

That was one interpretation. Arcana relaxed her grip on the ring. It was more likely that the Dark Lord had simply lost control, which was rather amateurish in her opinion. Not that she would share that thought. Mental torture was a true art form.

"It is possible, my lord, but difficult to say," Arcana replied cautiously. "These things tend to be more subtle and complex than expected."

The Dark Lord's lip quirked in a sneer. Apparently, he still did not like to hear conflicting opinions, unless he asked for them.

"No matter the cause," he dismissed haughtily, "if the emotions have become bound to you, I will need to unbind them."

That was not what Arcana wanted to hear. She did not want the Dark Lord anywhere near her mind. He must have seen her reaction.

"It will do you good," the Dark Lord said, smiling in a way that worried Arcana, "to become more comfortable with our bond."

Arcana was already more comfortable with it than she wanted, but if this was the only way, she would not fight him. Besides, she had no defenses against that link. Although if the Dark Lord thought she would relax her mental shields around him regularly, he was lost in his own daydream.

"If that is the only way, I will consent, my lord," Arcana replied, hoping her quiet acquiescence would appease the Dark Lord.

"Good, my hunter." He gave her another cold smile. "You would be foolish not to. While your cooperation isn't imperative, it will ease the pain."

Arcana sighed and fingered the fae ring. Perhaps the last bearer of the ring had died by a wizard's hand as she would eventually. The mithril and stone simply hummed steadily with magic, telling her nothing.

A rustle of cloth caught Arcana's attention. The Dark Lord was moving away from the fire. The room's thick rugs muffled his footfalls.

"I will leave you now, my hunter, to think carefully about your future." The Dark Lord looked down at her gravely. "Rest well for tomorrow. The books will take time and I expect you to remember all my orders regarding the thorough translation I require. It will keep you occupied."

Though the thought of taking his orders again turned Arcana's stomach, and if the books were truly as fascinating as the Dark Lord alleged, he might later find it very difficult to pry her away from them. He had always reveled in manipulating Arcana, and she knew he had more than one reason for exploiting her scholarly tendencies.

"We will also deal with those bound emotions, so be prepared," the Dark Lord warned darkly.

"My lord?" Arcana asked uncertainly, offering the ring back to the wizard.

"Keep it for now, Arcana." The Dark Lord closed her fingers back around the ring. "You seem to have become rather attached to it, and you could possibly wield it, given your ancestry."

For once, the wizard's capricious mood swings acted in Arcana's favor. He did not know what he had just given away. The ring was a powerful magical focus that could control High magic at times when even her specially made wand would shatter. Only a sorcerer or sorceress that was both old and strong could utilize its full powers. But then again, the Dark Lord did not know how old she truly was - not that it mattered now.

"Thank you, my lord." Arcana bowed her head. One more secret to keep from the Dark Lord, she thought darkly. If Arcana had not been weakened by a century in the mortal world, she would have shown the Dark Lord what a great fae sorceress could craft. He would not be pleased with the results, if he survived them. However in her current condition, Arcana could not even surpass the limits of her wand. Still, the ring could be very useful.

The Dark Lord nodded dismissively, as if the gift was only a small token, and began walking toward the door. Arcana followed a pace behind, her steps uncertain. The potion was wearing off, and the aches were returning. She was careful to stay clear of the slithering Nagini, who was visibly eager to leave Arcana's rooms.

Arcana opened the heavy wooden door for the Dark Lord, and their eyes met. Arcana openly searched his red gaze and felt him reciprocate fully. She could discern nothing from the Dark Lord's eyes. He hid his thoughts too well. She did sense that their relationship had reached a delicate balance in the magical sense. It was inexplicable, but she felt a strange resonance with the wizard, and he must have felt it as well.

"It is odd, my hunter, but not completely unexpected," the Dark Lord said calmly. "Thirteen years as a nearly powerless shadow," he said with a grimace, "is bound to have some strange effects."

Arcana tensed, wary that the Dark Lord's mood would shift again. He despised speaking about his defeat.

"But now is not the time to dwell on that. Rest, Arcana, and be prepared for tomorrow," he commanded.

Arcana recognized his dismissal and bowed her head. "As you wish, my lord. I will await your next visit."

The Dark Lord chuckled, and again placed his fingers under Arcana's chin to raise her head. Arcana's cheek twitched. She was exhausted and sore, too tired to fight back.

"Good, Arcana," he said with a strange glimmer in his eyes. The connection between them resonated. "I believe this arrangement will work out very well indeed."

Arcana let out a shuddering breath as the Dark Lord released her, breaking their direct connection, and stepped out the door.

"Until tomorrow, my hunter," the Dark Lord said.

"Until tomorrow, my lord," Arcana responded to the Dark Lord's familiar parting words, again meeting his crimson eyes. She felt their connection hum with power once more before the Dark Lord turned away and regally strode down the long corridor with Nagini gliding along the stone by his side.