Obsidian Faith

Obsidian Faith

Prologue

It began on a frenzied wind-lashed night, as so many other stories did and still do. Frosted filigree rammed senselessly into the scrubbed clean panes of the rare, unbreakable glass, adamantine.

"Draco."

The figure that had stood facing the tall, gothic window turned around, withdrawing his hands from personally tailored pants. The hands were of an unnatural white, as if they had never seen the sun before, but it was not the sickly white like that of someone wracked with pain. The pants, made from some expensive silk-like material, fell casually to meet the top of newly polished dress shoes. The crisp, ironed shirt wrapped form-fittingly around the slim torso.

"Father."

A taller figure leaned against the mahogany framed doorway of the darkly furnished room. As the figure at the window turned around, the one at the door strode into the flickering illumination provided by a noiseless fire - courtesy of yet another house elf. He took his time crossing over to where his son stood, face cloaked in shadow where the fire did not reach.

"Certain matters are at hand. The Dark Lord requires your presence." The man, Lucius Malfoy, moved close enough to touch his son, but he didn't. Lucius never touched his son, unless it was to slap him.

Draco raised his blank gray eyes and stared into his father's face, which mirrored his own. A smirk tugged at Draco's thin, almost bloodless lips, but there was no humor in his eyes. "The Dark Lord needs me, Father? Am I to be made a Death Eater, then?"

Lucius dealt with his son's impertinence the only way he knew how, a slap. His unblemished hand, as pale as Draco's, shot up faster than the blink of an eye, and the flat of his hand struck to meet the cold flesh of his son. "I need no rudeness from you. I am your father; you will do as I say. You will meet the Dark Lord tonight. Right now."

His head tilted to one side so that platinum blond hair fell to cover his forehead and left eye, Draco replied. "As you wish, Father."

With a curt nod of the head, Lucius spun around and walked towards the exit. "Follow me. Come as you are."

Draco righted himself and followed Lucius out the door. Years of practice had allowed Draco to clench his teeth together without his muscles giving the action away. This he did now, and fixed his stone cold eyes at the back of his father's head. He tasted the metallic tang of blood where teeth had tore at the insides of his cheek when Lucius had slapped him.

A Death Eater.

Even though Lucius had said nothing about anything, Draco knew that tonight was it. Before dawn the next morning, he would have the Death Eater brand seared onto his arm, the snake protruding grotesquely from the skull.

He had waited years for a night as this, when his father would lead him to finally meet the Dark Lord. The night when Draco would truly and rightfully inherit the family name and make his father proud. But the reality was different from his younger self's imagination. He could never make his father proud; there was only satisfaction. Lucius had never loved his son and never would. Whatever Draco did to please Lucius, Lucius never smiled or looked proud. There was only satisfaction in a job accomplished, because whatever Draco did, it was expected of him.

Lucius and his son traversed the chilled corridors of the Malfoy mansion, taking shortcuts and passages that Draco had never discovered. Finally, Lucius lifted a richly embroidered tapestry depicting the gory defeat of a long lost hero, and revealed a set of stone steps that led into the darkness beyond.

"Stay close behind," Lucius shortly ordered.

"Are you concerned for my safety, father?" Draco wryly inquired, starting down the stairs.

"No. I'd rather not lose my offering." There was a pause. "And you are not to refer to me as father anymore."

Draco, whose mind had already produced several biting retorts, refrained from speaking. The steps opened into a chamber, where ten or so other Death Eaters lingered, obviously waiting for Lucius.

One of the Death Eaters approached Lucius. "Have you brought the boy?"

"Yes. Did the Dark Lord send you all to escort me into his presence? I believe I can find the way myself."

"Our master does not take chances, Lucius. You, the closest to him, should know."

"Proceed, then."

The dark procession headed towards the opposite end of the chamber. Death Eaters gathered around Draco, separating him from Lucius. It was an unnecessary security measure - Lucius wouldn't help his son even if he wanted to.

They plunged ever deeper into the underworld labyrinth of the Malfoy mansion. Draco, even during a time of vast importance, was amazed to see how the mansion covered an extensive amount of space underground, as well as above. It annoyed him that he had never found this to be true before, but then, Lucius was always scrupulous and thorough in concealing things from unwanted attention. It was no great surprise that Draco had not discovered the labyrinth in the sixteen years that he had lived in the mansion.

The noiseless parade halted at a dead end, and the lead Death Eater turned sharply to the left, which revealed another passage. Instead of more oppressive darkness, this passageway was dimly illuminated with everlasting torches spaced at great intervals. Draco assumed that they were nearing the end of their long trek.

And he was soon proved right.

The corridor was, compared to their other paths, ridiculously short, ending about thirty yards from where it began. The sloping ceiling abruptly stopped while the outer walls kept on going, until they met the walls of another underground room.

Draco, in the absence of the passage's ceiling, noted that the meeting room had a very high ceiling, so they were deeply underground. Firelight flickered on the walls, magically creating appalling imagery of death and torture. A great ring of fire dominated much of the cavern, and within the ring, the Dark Lord and his minions awaited his arrival.

It was undignified for a Malfoy to appear apprehensive or nervous, but Draco couldn't contain himself. The Dark Lord had raised his hooded head, and two scarlet, lidless eyes examined him with their obsidian pupils. Draco felt his pulse quicken and clenched his hands together. Finally, to meet the Dark Lord.

"Lucius' son. Welcome then, boy, to the official gathering of the Death Eaters," Voldemort half-hissed.