Gyendal never thought that he would be so disgusted to have blood dripping out of his mouth. It had happened plenty of times while he had been a Vampire, seeing as he had been known to be a messy eater. The only difference was that he was now human, and it was his own blood dripping out of his mouth, not someone else's. Needless to say, it didn't taste that good.

He had been held hostage deep within the Cathedral of Underfall for almost a full year now. You may find yourself asking; Why on earth is Gyendal being held hostage, and why is he dripping with his own blood? The answer is rather simple. It all started the day he destroyed the Orb of Death. He knew that by destroying the orb, and letting Mel go, he would be punished quite severely by his master.

He hadn't seen the sun since. Every day, his master would come and have him flogged repeatedly. Gyendal was then forced to endure the pain for a few hours before his master would return with a healer, granting him reprieve from the pain for the rest of the day. It was a gruesome fate. In a way, it made him hate humans even more, yet at the same time, he also felt as though he deserved it. He liked to think of it as his punishment for all the times he hurt Mel.

There wasn't really a moment that he didn't think of her. If it hadn't been for her, he probably would have been driven to despair. Looking back on those moments he spent with Mel while he was masquerading as Spook gave him the courage to endure every lashing he received. Despite everything, he could honestly say that he didn't regret destroying the orb. The only thing he did regret was not being able to explain himself to Mel. He had no idea what she thought about him and everything that had happened.

Where was she? Was she safe? Gyendal had overheard the Darklings talking about how they had been assigned to search for her. Had they found her yet? He couldn't stand the thought of them taking her, which he found rather bizarre. There had been a time in his life when he didn't care for her at all. The only thing that had mattered to him at the time was using her to enslave humanity and free the Vampires. In his wildest dreams, he never imagined that he would care for Mel so much.

Gyendal had intended on going through with his plan up until the moment he saw how heart-broken and afraid she was. Believe it or not, but it had in turn broke his heart as well. Seeing her in such a state had reminded him of a memory that had happened so long ago that it had almost been lost to him forever. It reminded him of how afraid he had been when he discovered his own powers.

He had been a child at the time, somewhere around the age of nine or ten, and as you can imagine, he was terrified and confused. Much like her, he too had thought that magic was evil at the time, for the world he lived in had taught him that. The only difference was that his father had helped him through it. Mel had no one. Although, he supposed that Yvette or June could probably help her if she let them.

Just then, he was snapped away from his thoughts as he heard footsteps coming. There was no question of who they belonged to, for there were very few beings in the Cathedral who actually walked, aside from him. Most of the Darklings just flew about as they pleased, ignoring the fact that they too had feet, even if they were rather short and stubby. These footsteps could only belong to his master and the healer.

Soon enough, two figures approached his cell. One of them was an older man, dressed in a black robe with gold trimming, and the other was a woman, who despite being a witch, had healing powers. Gyendal knew that Mel and her friends had come across her a few times, but he couldn't remember her name. The only name he knew was the name of his master; Mordred Darkthrop.

"Have you suffered enough yet, Gyendal?" Mordred asked. "Are you ready to abandon your feelings for the girl and rejoin me?"

Gyendal shook his head. "I would rather drown in my own blood than hurt Mel again."

"Look, you may think that I don't understand how it feels to love someone so deeply that you'd be willing to die for them, but I do," Mordred said. "I loved Lilly with all of my heart, but it didn't matter to the wretch. She left me regardless. People claim that falling in love is the best thing that can happen to a person, but they're wrong. It's the worst."

Gyendal had known about Mordred's past before he even met him. The old wizard had written about her in his journal's quite frequently, unable to forget about her and what she had done to him. Personally, Gyendal had never understood Mordred's bitterness towards his lost love, but he was not starting to. He finally understood what it felt like to have his heart broken, but unlike him, it was not because he was hated by the woman he loved.

When Gyendal failed to reply, Mordred let out a sigh. "It's a shame that you choose to be stubborn," Mordred said. "You have so much potential. I have never met someone as powerful as you."

Mordred then motioned for the witch to cast her spell. As she began to mutter the words of a healing spell, he began to feel the pain in his body slowly fade away. Reaching up to touch his face, he realized that even the blood had disappeared. However, he didn't allow himself to feel relief at the absence of pain. He knew that it would return soon enough.

"You shall not see me for a while, for I have found a new way to punish you," Mordred declared, motioning for the witch to take her leave. "A way that just might make you change your mind about rejoining me."

Hearing that, Gyendal jumped to his feet. He had a good idea of what Mordred meant by that, and he didn't like the sound of it at all. "Leave Mel out of this! She's been through enough!"

Mordred shook his head. "I don't have much choice. She is the one of the prophecy; the one who will rise up and take over the world."

With that, Mordred turned and walked away, vanishing into the darkness. In a fit of rage, he sent a blast of magic towards the place where Mordred had just stood. Unfortunately, it stopped abruptly in front of the cell door, creating nothing more than a puff of smoke. He had momentarily forgotten that Mordred had magic proofed the cell, ensuring that he wouldn't escape.

"Curse you, Mordred Darkthrop!"