Disclaimer: I'm not a girl, so I can't own it

Author's note: Onward! Oh, and I'll be responding to the most...er...interesting review from each chapter. And the one from the last chapter was...there wasn't one. So...presenting chapter the fourth...

The Potion Master's Redemption

Chapter Four

For I Am Dark-He Is Light

The dungeon room was small and dark, with water rippling down the walls and feeding the dank moss that grew in abundance. As it was a dungeon room, it housed an occupant.

The mentioned subject lay on the floor, almost seeming to be dead. His eyes were closed in sleep, and he snored softly, causing his bedraggled hair to flutter resignedly around the now-angular and gaunt face. There was a large area on his head where the hair had been mostly torn away to reveal a large, open wound that refused to heal. A trickle of blood wove its way down his face, dripping softly across the many scars that crisscrossed his cheeks and forehead.

The boy was small, albeit not as young as he seemed on first impression. The lanky young limbs that folded up to his chest were thin and stick-like, to be sure, but they belonged on a teenager. A slight, scruffy amount of dark hair dusted his face-he was almost a man, then. His only clothing and protection from the near-fatal dampness and darkness of the dungeon was a set of thick green robes that he had wrapped tightly around himself. The hands that poked out from this cocoon were not large, in a sense, but spidery and long-fingered. A filthy rag was tied across his jaw, forcing his mouth shut, and another was tied across his eyes.

It was odd that so much was used to contain such a malnourished prisoner, but he was obviously able to strike fear into the hearts of his captors.

The rag around his eyes fluttered as if eyelashes had brushed against it, and a pale hand crept out from his robes to his face, the spindly fingers teasing cautiously at the rag. The other had was moving too, about to join in, when there was a disturbance in the corridor. The figure tensed, moving their hands back down to his chest and into the robes, just in time. The dungeon door was suddenly blasted open in an explosion of blue light, causing the figure to tense slightly.

"BOY!" A tall man stormed into the room, a thin stick held out in front of him. "Lair!" He lifted the stick-no, wand- and a blast of red light shot out of the end, striking the figure squarely in the chest.

The figure arched his back in agony, whimpering softly to himself. "No! I don't lie!" he cried through the rag.

The man gave a short, harsh bark of laughter and lifted his wand again, toying lightly with it. "You're a liar, boy! Just like your father before you!"

The boy tensed, lifting a hand to his face as if to tear the rag away, but a blast of red magic hit his hand. He dropped it and yelled as loud as he could with the rag in his way, "My father is no liar, Sebastian!"

His captor flicked his wand with a whispered word, and the room was suddenly flooded in light.

The boy turned his head towards the entrance, where he knew Sebastian stood.

The wizard laughed harshly, his black eyes snapping with anger. Sebastian al'Dale cut an imposing figure, being the tall man he was. His hair was white-blond, coming down to his shoulders, where it nearly glowed against the dark blue fabric of his extravagant robes. "You don't even know who your father is, boy!" he hissed through his teeth, his eyes boring into the boy. "Your mother is a-"

"Shut it, you bastard!" the boy bellowed, suddenly sitting up. His hands came up to his face once more, his fingers grasping at the rag…

But Sebastian would have none of it. A flick of his wand, a flash of red light, and the boy gasped sharply, pulling his hands swiftly away from his face.

"You know the rules, boy," Sebastian said coldly, slipping his wand into his pocket. "Nathalie!" A grimace crossed the boy's face for a mere second, but was quickly gone and replaced with a face empty of expression. Sebastian had to admire the boy in that respect, at least. He was just like his father.

"You called me, Lord?" a soft voice asked from the doorway.

Sebastian nodded and spun halfway around, greeting his companion with a nod. "Nathalie."

"What do you wish?" Nathalie asked, her fingers playing over the embroidered sleeves of her long silver robes. She was not tall, but rather short, with a straight-cut figure. A satchel hung from her shoulder, black and menacing.

"The boy needs his potions," Sebastian responded lazily, flicking his eyes back to the boy.

Nathalie nodded and paced swiftly forwards to kneel beside the boy, quickly grabbing his head in one hand. She turned the ruined face towards her, a slight smirk crossing her face at the shudder that laced the boy's body. "Coward…" she hissed, stroking the hair out of his eyes in a cruelly intimate gesture. "Just like your father…your mother too…"

The boy tensed, and Nathalie laughed softly, dropping her free hand into her satchel and withdrawing a small bottle. She uncorked it with a flick of her thumb and forced the boy's mouth open with two fingers, pinching the nerves to force him to swallow. He fought it, trying to spit it out, but she merely pinched another nerve, causing his throat to convulse and relax as he swallowed. "There…" she crooned, sinking onto her heels as she carefully replaced the now-empty bottle. "Done." She stood, swinging the satchel back onto her shoulder, and retreated a few steps to stand a bit behind Sebastian.

"My thanks, Nathalie," the wizard intoned smoothly.

Nathalie dipped her head. "My pleasure, lord."

Sebastian turned back to the boy, folding his arms inside his robes. "You will tell us, boy," he intoned softly. "Think on what has happened." He spun on his heel and proceeded Nathalie out.

The Poison Spinner cast a wary glance at the boy before casting the enchantments once more and following her master out, shutting the heavy door with a bang.

The boy, still slumped against the wall, whimpered softly in pain as he moved into a new position. Tears leaked out from under tightly closed eyelids until he moved a grubby fist to his eyes, scrubbing the moisture away. He tugged at the rag a bit, moving it off of his eyes in a slow, jerky motion. And then blazing emerald eyes snapped open, shining in the near-darkness. His eyes flicked around the room as he chanted softly to himself, "Must not fail them. I can do this! Must not-"

Over and over again these words he spoke, gaining from them strength and courage needed to survive.

Sebastian al'Dale swept swiftly through the corridors, his eyes focused on something that only he could see. His wand was held lightly in his palm and he muttered angrily to himself. Upon coming to a set of double doors, Sebastian banged them open with one fist, striding into a huge antechamber. Two men in red robes awaited him by a gilded throne, their hoods pulled over their faces.

"What news, Sebastian?" the taller of the two asked in a young voice, pulling his hood back. Short brown hair and heavy eyebrows framed a broad face and piercing blue eyes, a scar cutting across his left cheek.

Sebastian grimaced as he came to a stop before them. "None, Silas," he responded sharply. "What say you?"

Silas exchanged a glance with his companion, and the shorter man stepped forwards. "We have found the boy. Talisman."

Sebastian nodded sharply and sat carefully on the throne. "Very well, Theodore. Well done." He turned his gaze to Nathalie, grating, "How have we not broken him yet?"

Nathalie knelt before the throne, looking to the ground as she answered, "He is his father's son, Sebastian."

"And his mother's," Silas interjected swiftly. "She always was a-"

"Speak not of the girl," Theodore hissed. "She is mine!"

Sebastian waved a slender hand. "Easy, Theodore. Easy. She is not yours yet, not until we have claimed what is rightfully ours."

"You mean mine," Silas added softly, his blazing blue gaze boring into Sebastian.

The man on the throne nodded dismissively. "Yes, yes…" He stared at something in the distance, a plan forming in his mind. "His family…"

Nathalie caught on swiftly and rose, staring curiously at him. "The boy?"

"His parents," Theodore said. "His father especially."

Sebastian vaulted over the side of the throne, landing in front of his companions. "Gentlemen, we have a mission."

Not to be a beggar or anything but...review? And I plan to update maybe once/twice a week, so no worries! And thanks for reading.