Author's Note: Ladies and gentlemen... *smirks as readers rush about expectantly to prepare ice-wines and desserts* So far, ONE review! *cackles madly as readers scream in excitement, pouring ice-wine into glasses and start chewing cookies* Thanks you, Mistress Darken, for my very FIRST review on this story (even if it is a guest review)! I'll just let you know here that even if I get no reviews from now on, I would still continue this story! But of course, I would appreciate it if you DO review this chapter! I'm not a Slytherin for nothing you know - I'm determined! So uh, I hope that if anyone else is checking out this story... Give me a lovely review, will you? Things like 'Great! Please continue!' will be highly appreciated as well!

So... Happy reading! And oh, I would have to disclaim, sadly, that the inspiration of the practise of splitting souls belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me! So basically, a 'Piosanam' is my version of a Horcrux! It is kind of a mixture of the two Irish words 'piosa anam' - soul piece.

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A silence settled in the air between them, icy with its stillness, and burning hot with the excitement within.

'You what?' Darken whispered, not quite believing his ears.

'I found a way to be immortal, not entirely immortal, of course, but the closest way possible.' Darchelle repeated calmly, a rare genuine smile on her face, a true sign of satisfaction of telling her brother a significant thing she managed to accomplish.

'How?!' He demanded, not caring his tone. He was her brother, after all, and they shared the same burning thirst for power.

'Ooh,' She taunted, having fun seeing his anxiousness, 'someone is so eager in hearing my words, all of a sudden, not just the "O so great heir Darken Rahl", huh? Touching, touching...'

'Damn it, Chilly, you find the oddest time to be playful and the worst moment to bring me discomfort! Just spit it out, now!' Darken said impatiently.

'The best results come to the one who waits. Be patient, dear brother.' She smirked the smirk he came to recognise as the I'm-in-the-mood-for-some-torturing-fun smirk, 'We will have this little conversation in the garden, so no one will disturb us.'

Annoyed but left without a choice, Darken followed his precocious sister out into the quiet garden. The scent of roses and lilies greeted their nostrils, but none was in the mood for the scenery. They picked a shady spot under a tree and he glanced expectantly at Darchelle, fearing that if he spoke, the clear eagerness in his voice would bring yet another round of cruel mocking.

'Well,' She began, speaking in a rush, 'I came across a book in our dear father's study the other day: Rúin An Draíocht Dorcha. Secrets of the darkest magic. And you know me, of course I found it very curious and interesting, so one day when he was not at the palace, I sneaked into the Forbidden Section in his study and stole out the book. It is not written in English, and I guess that is why he never read it. I know the Ancient Language, because I know full well that knowledge is power.' She paused to smirk. 'I have to tell you, its contents were extremely...juicy, to say the least. But of course I can't allow anybody else to read it! So I used a spell to get all the knowledge in the book into my mind, and right afterwards I burnt it. Are you sure you want to hear what was in the book, dear brother?'

She burnt it. Typical Darchelle. Never ever able to allow anyone to share her exclusive knowledge, and fixing her life insurance in the meantime; anyone would want that piece of information, so no one would dare to let her die. Even though Darken knew she was taunting him, testing his patience, he couldn't suppress a snarl, 'YES, now will you please just get on with it?!'

'Mmh,' His sister answered in a deliberately and painfully slow drawl, 'as we both know, all magic comes with a price, and the darker it is, the more significant the price. And the price for this particular magic is...' She stared directly into his eyes, 'your soul.'

'You have to sacrifice your soul?' Darken asked incredulously, 'Are you completely mental, Darchelle Rahl?! You don't know the first thing about magic - it has limits! By sacrificing your soul you would be...'

'Relax, Darken.' Darchelle replied coolly, 'I said nothing about actually sacrificing my soul. What I mean to say is that you...separate a piece of your soul from the rest, and use a spell to store it into an object of your choice. This object would be called a Piosanam. The more times you do this, the more powerful and near-immortal you can become. This is Dark Magick, truly dark. But it can't stop me from trying to make a Piosanam, can it?'

Darken thought it over, decided to be cautious and asked for more details. 'So... How exactly can one make a Piosanam?'

She gave him a slightly crazed smile. 'You have to split your soul, of course.'

'How...?'

'I already did, and so have you.' Darchelle paused, 'By committing the highest sin of all: murder.'

Silence. A bird shrieked overhead, but none of them heard. Darken cleared his throat, and his sister's face was emotionless, entirely made of stone. 'That's a bit disturbing, isn't it?'

'Whatever do you mean, dear brother?' She raised an eyebrow.

'Well, I would have thought that this is obvious. As you said moments ago, this is the darkest form of magic. But what if something went wrong? What if you ripped your soul into pieces and killed yourself in the process? Have you ever thought of the consequences? Chilly...' He sighed, 'You are still young, we are still young. You have to step out of this obsession of immortality - it's not good for you, it's too dangerous!'

'So what?' She said softly, 'I told you a year ago that I will be immortal, no matter the cost. If I can't take this risk, then all my hard learning of magic would be useless! I would just be like any other witch, growing into crones.' She laughed bitterly, a terrible, humourless laugh. 'If you are too cowardly to seek power, then fine. Don't. I don't care; we all have our priorities. But don't you dare try to stop me.'

Her voice was ice and poison, the threat was sent.

'I won't stop you, Darchelle. You know I only wish the best of you. I want you to be happy.' He was sincere, swallowing the threat.

'Oh, worry not, dear brother! When I succeed, I assure you I will be happier than I've even been!' Darchelle said defiantly, a challenging glint in her electric blue eyes, as if daring him to say otherwise.

He gazed at her intensely, 'If you think so, Chilly. But I will have to consider about it - for myself. Tell me your requirements in this...spell and I'll help you get them. I don't like the sound of tearing my soul apart and separating it from my body, personally, I'll find another way. And if I ever need your help...'

'All you need to do is ask, dear brother. I'll give you the information you need.' She finished for him immediately.

Darken, however, managed to read something else in her impenetrable mask. Or, perhaps, it had nothing to do with his reading skills at all, but rather his experiences of his sister over the years. He knew her nature. The first thing he needed to worry about her was her selfishness, if someone threatened her rights in any way, even if that person was him, she will fight to protect herself over everyone and everything else. So he guessed that what she meant was that she would give him the information he needed as long as, given that piece of information, she would not have the risk of him to growing more powerful than she will become.

Satisfied with the perfect answer his genius mind produced, but feeling a bit uneasy about her sister's silky tongue, Darken smiled thinly and said, 'Good, good. Now just relax for a while, we can sit down and talk, just like how we use to - '

'No.' Darchelle cut him off instantly, starting back to the palace, 'I need to...study. At somewhere quiet.'

He sighed and pulled her back, holding her waist tight ('Let me go, what are you doing?'), 'You're overusing yourself, Chilly. Try to put your mind out of it for once, won't you? Anyway, the garden is quiet as well.'

She wrenched herself free and rubbed her waist. 'I am not overusing myself, I know my limits! And I can't relax, life is so short, time is so little! And I mean I need to go somewhere cool, dark and quiet, the sunlight here is just so annoying and distracting.'

Darchelle turned to walk toward the palace once more and this time, a guard rushed out, bowed to both of them and said to her, 'My lady, your father requests your presence. Said it's urgent. He's not in a good mood, so please come with me quickly, you only!'

Darken had a bad feeling about this as his sister, seeming to share this sentiment, followed the guard reluctantly. He called out to the guard, 'Do you have any idea what this is about?'

He turned, still walking quickly, 'Sorry my lord, not sure about the details. Bellowing something about a stolen book or something.'

Darchelle's face grew pale.