My dear readers,

I know, I said before, no more waiting for a year - or longer! - for a chapter for you. But hell. This year was out to get me, I tell you.
First, my husband broke his foot and had to lie with a plaster for a month, and then could barely walk for another two, leaving me naturally with most of the work at home, almost burning me out. Following that was a simmering depression, which left me unable to write and which I only came to be aware of in July, when I found a new therapist. And since then, I finally was able to work on this story again, even though it still was a fight. Also, I've been working on a much more mature side-project, which I most likely will post after ItDE is done. I'll let you know the details of it once it takes enough shape to show the world.
But here we are, with the result of my personal fight, and I like to think it was worth it. May Commorragh greet you once more with its absolute relentelessness.

And now, answering my reviewers, as usual:

bigwoof: Thank you, my friend, for your once more kind words. You always warm my heart.
Grocamol: Oh yeah, it will be great, I promise.
jetjedi: Thank you, I appreciate the fav!
Spaciayeti8: Congratulations, you found one of several easter eggs! You know, you found the easter egg probably everybody else noticed. A quote from one of the most famous movies, from one of its most iconic scenes, which happens to be one of my most favourite movies and scenes too. It's called an hommage. No need to point it out. I don't need to watch the movie immediately before writing to remember one of my most beloved quotes.
Mysterious Venus: Thank you for your kind words and lengthy review! I really enjoyed our discussion via PM and I'm glad I could make you understand a little bit better what my thought process behind Temira's Stockholm Syndrome was. I'm sorry I never got back to you, I was in a deep hole I had to slowly crawl out of. I hope you can understand and continue to enjoy my story.

Thank you, my lovely readers, for keeping with me, even though I am trying you so. I promise it'll be worth it and I will bring this story to an eventual, grand finish.

And as always: enjoy!

All my love,

Shâtî

Chapter 27

Allies and Foes shaken

"When the universe ends Vect will still be alive in the nothingness that comes after, floating in an unbreachable bubble of his own deviousness and sense of self-satisfaction."
- Archon Bezieth of the Hundred Scars

THE START OF the next day was quiet. Relaxing, even, until I started to remember what had transpired yesterday.

That Lisbeth…

I took a deep breath to calm myself and shoved the thought away, then slowly opened my eyes. I realised it was rare that I woke up actually well-rested and not as the result of some kind of overstraining the day before. I enjoyed the feeling.

However, dawdling was not on the menu, so I stretched and sat up.

I did not fancy the picture I got presented with.

Vect was sitting at the table, obviously having breakfast, and he had Lisbeth with him. However, she was not seated at the table, but sat on the floor beside his seat. All the sustenance she got were bites he deigned to give her. I was surprised to see that she did not bear any new injuries; apparently Vect had been lenient and had not closed the cage too tightly.

I could not let it go. I had to know what Lisbeth had done so severely wrong that she only got to sleep in the cage. It had to be something major, because I had fucked up multiple times too, but never had my punishments been so severe and so lengthy.

Maybe I would be able to pack the question cleverly.

What also surprised me was that Vect let me sleep in. Naturally, he was almost always up before me, but he actually often woke me, especially when my sleep had been natural and normal and not caused by sheer exhaustion or unconsciousness.

Then again, a lot of things were different since I was back from the Carnival. I just had to roll with it.

"Good morning, master! Thank you for letting me sleep in," I greeted him, dutiful as ever, knowing what was expected of me.

"You are welcome, child. Now, come, join me at the table, will you," Vect replied, not looking at me but viciously smiling down at Lisbeth. The jab at her position on the floor was evident.

There was no way I could help her without bringing Vect's anger down on me, so I diligently ignored his remark and did as he bade. I put on my morning gown and joined him to his right, grateful to avoid the carpet.

For a while, we ate in silence. I tried hard to keep my mind blank and not let my gaze wander to Lisbeth too much. Acting casual with those burning questions about Lisbeth's disgrace inside me and the discomfort I was constantly experiencing was pretty rough.

"Oh, by the way, it might interest you to hear that the culprit behind the two assassination attempts you were involved in has been found," Vect abruptly said, as if he had suddenly started up from a thought. He had been contemplating quietly for the time being.

"Greatly, my lord," I gave back.

"With the big picture revealed, it might not even surprise you. It had been Pachu'a all along. He had hoped to destabilise the Black Heart by killing off Valossian and weaken my reputation by doing so in my very throne room. Bold for sure, but futile. The second occasion was certainly aimed at you directly, and so was the third. I am sure that he had help from Malys and Khromys, but they covered their tracks well enough so that they were safe from my wrath. What I am not entirely certain about is why he wants you dead so direly," Vect explained.

What seemed like a casual remark in the last sentence, was much, much more. I was sure that the Overlord had listened to every word of my conversation with Vyras, and he had stopped him from telling me why I had to die, so I was absolutely sure that Vect knew precisely why Vyras wanted me dead.

Therefore, this remark was nothing but another test for me. To see whether I would be good and not try to pry into it, as he knew that I was aware that he was blatantly lying. Everything he did had become a trial for me. Yes, I still got to feel that he was disappointed in me and I still had to excel more than usual to keep him satisfied and to maybe, just maybe, get his trust back.

Also, this was huge news. Malys and Khromys in the picture certainly fitted when it came down to plots against Vect, but that one of his Circle members would be foolish enough to dare such an alliance was surprising. And the other two taking it, even more so.

Determined not to fail, I therefore focused on the treat he had given me and replied, "Thank you for letting me know, master. And yes, after having the talk with the former Archon, I'm not really surprised." I realised in the moment I spoke that I had no idea how to address Vyras, and barely had come up with the expression I had used. As well-versed as I was in the Drukhari tongue, some things still could be rather tricky to get right and the last thing I wanted was to disrespect a former member of the Circle, fallen or not.

Vect chuckled and jibed, "Not many slaves survive three professional attempts on their life, Temira. You are special, as I keep telling you."

Maybe it was not that bad at all and I was overreacting. He only praised me when he was content with my performance. Was I seeing things where there were none to be seen?

Still, I remained humble, "To be fair, I only survived the second one because the Maester was there in time and you deemed me worthy enough to pay him for his services. And the third one clearly would have gone sideways without Sakh'ur'lath, whom you surely sent too."

The Overlord chuckled again, and gave back, "Ah, Temira, always so humble. Nobody expects you to survive on your own in Commorragh. That would be utterly unrealistic, which is why it is so important for you to have a capable patron."

"Still, I'm grateful for your generosity, Overlord," I insisted carefully. As he had just pointed out, I needed his protection.

"As you should," he smiled. Even though his inflexion was majorly soft, I still could not shake the feeling of once more immediately having my deference completely demolished. It still hurt, because I meant what I said and I was no longer sure whether he actually cared.

So much to be insecure about, it tore me asunder, and all that after I had found some confidence when winning the Carnival.

With this short talk out of the way, we continued in silence, with me fighting the eternal, quiet battle inside me. No reprimand from him came, yet I was eternally unsure about my behaviour.

Without losing another word, Vect got up and put on his armour. Apparently, he was up longer than I had thought, because he usually never slipped it on without a shower.

"Is there anything you require of me, master?" I asked him carefully while he was donning the armour.

"No, not particularly. It is a standard day and I can do without you outside. Just make sure you prepare everything for the usual in the evening," the Overlord gave back.

"Of course, my lord," I answered. My gaze wandered to Lisbeth again when he had turned his back on us, to try and reassure her with my glance, but she had her look cast downward. So, I could not even help her in this manner to deal with the last moments of Vect in the room. I could see she was slightly trembling. Had he done something to her when I had been sleeping? I could not see any injuries, then again, he did not need physical punishment to get into her head.

The Overlord then took his sceptre, passed me, but then halted again, and took a deep, sharp breath.

I ducked subliminally. That sounded like one of the annoyed sorts.

He turned, glared at me, gestured with the sceptre at Lisbeth and snarled, "Fine. You so direly want to know why Lisbeth is in the position she is in? I wanted to spare you from knowing how stupid your friend really is, but you have brought this upon yourself. Little Lisbeth here tried to attack me once when she still had the privilege to sleep in my bed. Not that her quaint efforts amounted to anything but my severe disappointment and wrath, but that was the end of any of her privileges. Actions and their consequences. It is simple, really. One should think it is easy enough even for a mon-keigh to understand. However, Lisbeth has proven me wrong once more and set the bar even lower. So, there you have it, Temira. Your best friend is an utter ingrate and imbecile."

I sharply realised that he had purposefully switched to Low Gothic for that lecture.

Having said that, he turned around so quickly that his hair flew and marched out of the room.

There I had it. I had looked at Lisbeth too much.

I gathered myself, sure that this lack of restraint on my part would get me into trouble. Yet, there was nothing I could do to change it, so I took a deep breath.

Lisbeth got up and came to me, hugging me from the side. "I'm sorry I got you into trouble."

I looked at her and sternly stated, "Don't you dare take this on you!"

She smiled, albeit sadly. "Okay…"

I sighed deeply. "But… I need to know. Is it true what he said? You really tried to attack him?"

Lisbeth took a step back, then answered in an indignant tone, "That I attacked him is exaggeration. I just resisted… getting raped… again."

She really did not get it. I felt my respect for her dwindle.

How could this be so unclear to her? It did not matter whether it was an actual attack, an attempt on such, or just simply resisting anything he did. There was no disobeying the Overlord, no matter if you were an Archon or a mere slave. Especially if you were a mere slave.

However, at the same time, I knew that preaching that to Lisbeth would be futile. It would not change her view and she would just fall on my nerves, because I knew how painfully stubborn she could be if she did not want to see a point.

That said, I could not entirely let this go without any hint of letting her know how tremendously stupid that had been. "That was not wise," I gave back, my inflexion clearly showing everything I was not saying.

"You don't say," Lisbeth snapped, stomping away to her place on the floor below the windows.

"Come on, you knew it was not a smart move. Why do it in the first place?"

"You have no idea of the state I was in. I had to do something. I just couldn't stand it all without any resistance anymore."

"Which is why you are in the position you are in, and I'm doing far better. There is no resisting the Overlord."

"Has it ever occurred to you that you're just faring better because he wants it that way? And not because you were doing so much better?"

That… hit hard.

But I would be damned if I let her see even a shred of my pain!

I jumped to my feet, all muscles tense, clenching my fists, started, "You…" Then I decided otherwise, threw my hands in the air and with an annoyed and exasperated grunt I bolted into the bathroom.

Lisbeth could be such an annoying bitch when she did not want to see a point!

I stopped dead in my tracks.

No.

No, I could not let this rest.

I stormed back into the main room of the quarters and barked at Lisbeth, "You know what? Yes. Yes, of course, it has occured to me and it's probably true. But that doesn't change the fact that you're always the victim. Always have been. Everything is always harder for you. Everybody is always against you. You know what, Lisbeth? Maybe you should start to ponder why it's like that."

Lisbeth snapped, "Oh, sure, and maybe you should start pondering why you're the Overlord's golden child!"
I growled, teeth clenched. "You really don't see it, do you? Of course, it has occurred to me that I'm just the golden child because he wants me for something. However, another question you fail to ask is: does it make a difference? Does it change anything? No, it does not. The dire truth is: we are here and we are not getting out of here. What will happen to us, will happen."
Lisbeth shook her head, looking very tired all of a sudden. "So you've given up."
I sighed, closed my eyes and shook my head too, before continuing annoyedly, "What exactly did I give up? A childish notion of a knight in shining armour swooping in against all odds and rescue me? This isn't happening, Lisbeth. We are here because the Overlord willed it so, not because some magical travel through a portal happened, like in children's stories. There is no fate behind this. It's all a plan, devised by him. And the sooner you realise that and maybe, just maybe, start to - far too late, I might add - accept your situation and stop fighting a fight you're bound to lose, you might get out of the truly shitty situation you have manoeuvred yourself into. That, or go all the way. But you're too scared for that, aren't you. So don't attack me when you're trapped in a circle of futile resistance."

Lisbeth scoffed. "You don't get it, do you. The Overlord never gave me a chance! There was no leniency."
Would she ever even try to get out of the victim corner?

"That's not what I observed in the beginning. But you just couldn't stop resisting him, you just couldn't accept that you were becoming his bitch, just like everybody else in this city, no, you had to fight against him for a cause probably you don't even yourself could fathom. Was it the childish idea of not giving in to the bad guy and somehow staying the good, noble guy? Was it absolutely ill-placed pride? We are in something that seems like a surreal tale. But it isn't. There is no happy end. There is only survival, at best." I shook my head. "So, to cut a lot of words short: yes, I'm aware that I'm faring better because the Overlord wants it that way. But I also believe that I played my cards a lot smarter than you ever did, Lisbeth."

Lisbeth smirked sourly. "That and the fact that you were always swooning over the Overlord and probably didn't mind that the Overlord fucked you - and I mean in all the ways."

I smiled tiredly. "If you think that your goal to hurt me, to shake me out of something you believe I'm in, works, I have to disappoint you. I don't deny that my fascination with the Drukhari and, especially, the Overlord, helped me greatly. I don't deny that I had a lot of help from Maester Vlokarion. I don't deny that I am where I am because the Overlord lets me be there. And yes, I don't deny that I didn't mind as much as a huge heap of other people that he fucked me - yes, in all the ways. I know I'm fucked up. I don't deny that either. I know that there's no getting out of that and no looking at it objectively. I simply can't anymore, there is no perspective I can assume that won't drive me insane. I am what I am now. It won't change anymore. I also don't deny that you had it significantly harder, considering the bonuses I had, from mindset to training. But it still boils down to one simple fact: you never even tried to roll with it. You really think that if we just stick together and resist together, that… I don't know… we somehow win this, don't you? There is only one good thing you can aim for in Commorragh as a slave, Lisbeth: a quick, painless death. And achieving that is not easy. So, maybe you want to contemplate that for a bit and get out of that childish fighting mode that will lead you nowhere except his torture chamber."

Without letting her say anything more, I turned on my heels and left for the bath. If she tried to hit me below the belt, so could I. I felt no remorse. She had that coming. She had it all coming.

When I stepped into the shower and the warm water rained down on me, I took a deep breath. Holy hell. Where had all that anger been coming from? And all those perfectly hitting words? I mean, I never had been bad with words, but this had been overly eloquent. I had destroyed her out there.

Still… I felt… nothing.

What was going on with me?

Where did this all come from?

I shook my head. My thoughts were circling into nowhere. I would not be able to fix myself. Not anymore. I had to let go. I had to roll with it, even if it meant destroying my friendship. All that mattered now was being on Vect's good side.

I meditated and calmed down. My head cleared. My raging thoughts died down. My heartbeat decelerated.

Better. Use only calm thoughts.

I winced and opened my eyes again. This had to come from somewhere else.

"No matter," I sighed breathlessly. It helped. It did not matter where it came from. All that mattered was that it stabilised me.

I turned off the shower and did the rest of my routine, keeping my mind blank, focusing on the simple tasks.

When I came back to the main room of the quarters, I was presented with a picture I had not anticipated. Lisbeth still sat in the place she had been before, but she was heavily sobbing.

Do not cave in.

Nope, this time, I could not take this advice. I was not that far gone.

I hurried to her, this time avoiding the carpet for a clear head, crouched beside her, laid my hand upon her shoulder and sighed deeply. Closing my eyes, I softly told her, "I'm sorry, Lisbeth, that was unnecessarily harsh of me. I… I don't know what came over me."

She did not answer, but kept shaking with silent sobs.

I let her, fighting with myself whether I should draw back my hand. When I finally decided for doing it, she grabbed it.

Lisbeth whispered, "Don't."

I looked at her, confused.

"Touches w… with…out malice h…ave b… become rare," she stuttered, cramping up with a sob.

I felt cold. I realised how lacking my empathy was because of my missing remorse earlier.

I let her cry it out. There was nothing I could do to really comfort her now. I just hoped that Vect would not come back right now, because then he surely would destroy her.

A baleful while passed, and I could not help but nervously eye the door again and again.

Finally, she had gathered herself so much that she could face me again. With a still lowered gaze, she added, "And I know what came over you."

Alarmed, I looked at her, "What?"

She tensed up, her whole body fighting, but finally she managed to press out, "He did." Not saying 'the Overlord' clearly had taken everything out of her.

I gulped. I sharply realised that I had not fully assessed the damage Vect had done upon her. Sure, I had realised earlier that she did not dare to name him by anything else but his title, but now clearly seeing what an amount of not only willpower but also physical power it took from her side to not say it, hammered the message home to me that I had underestimated her suffering once more.

Still…

"What do you mean?" I asked her calmly, even though my emotions had been severely tumbled.

She looked at me, flashing a hapless smile. Then she leant in on me - hell, I could see the madness flickering in her gaze - and whispered, "He is manipulating you. Is making you change. Making you act like you never would. We need to get out of here, somehow, or we're both dead!"

I sighed deeply, now fighting tears too. I took another deep breath, then once more tried to explain to her, "Lisbeth… there is no getting out. This is Commorragh. Nobody ever gets truly out of here."

She let out a half-hysterical laugh and a half-cry, "You're right." Frantically shaking her head, she repeated, whispering, "You're right." She took a deep breath, straightening herself. "I'm desperate. I'm making no sense. I'm sorry."

I sighed deeply once more. "We rarely do when we are, now don't we." I stroked her shoulder and continued, "Go get some cold water on your face. He mustn't see that you were crying."

Lisbeth nodded and did how I had told her.

I used the time alone to get my own emotions under control again. Even though I had not cried, I had let her shake me. It was a vulnerability I could not afford. Vect demanded of me to not feel for my fellows in misery, even for Lisbeth, and I had failed miserably at that.

I was in enough trouble as it was.

Be that as it may, I was relieved I still could empathise with Lisbeth when she was crying. I had felt too little of that without her tears.

Maybe there was still hope for my humanity.

The rest of the day had come and gone. We had tried to spend it as relaxed as we could, given the circumstances. We had nothing to do but talk to each other, and, of course, we reminisced over our old life. I shied away from it. It did me no good to remember the good times. That just made it all worse. I realised that this was another thing Lisbeth did not understand. She dwelt on that, and tried to flee reality with the memories. I could not blame her, but it once more confirmed to me that she would not make it the way I would. Additionally, I had not been able to bring myself to eat while Lisbeth was not allowed to, but I managed it just fine. Lady Hesperax had done much worse to me in terms of hunger.

Vect took his sweet time today. Apparently, he was having a quite busy day, more so than usual, despite his prediction. On the other hand, I still was not entirely sure whether my feeling for time had recovered completely from the Carnival.

Lisbeth and I were both pretty tired by now. Naturally, we could not tell how long the Overlord had been gone, but we both felt the extensively long day. However, it did not matter, without permission we were not allowed to sleep, and sometimes that meant being awake for 24 hours or longer.

We both looked up, I jumped to my feet immediately and hurried closer, as the door finally opened. Naturally, in came Vect, and I immediately knew that he was not in high spirits.

Therefore, I carefully asked, "Overlord, how was y…"

"Quiet!" he snarled while he passed me, the heavy wrap around his shoulders brushing against me. The sharpness of the word, deliberately spoken in Low Gothic, made me wince.

Therefore, I resorted to quietly following him and helping him doff his armour, knowing very well that one wrong word or move could spell disaster for me. Luckily, I knew precisely what to do and did not make any mistakes.

After we were done, I immediately saw to it that I sweetened the wine for him, no hesitation, barely feeling the pain. That usually lifted his spirits.

Usually.

Vect seemed to have truly had an aggravating day, because he was enraged on a different level. It was a calm anger, cold, deadly, not the kind that made him beat the hell out of me, but do much, much worse.

He glared at me, and I gulped, fearing what my mistakes would now get me into. However, he did not stare at me for long, because his gaze wandered to Lisbeth, which made me freeze even more.

After a while of staring at her, until she tremblingly curled up against the wall, he finally growled, "Perhaps I should have your lacrimal glands removed and watch as you slowly and under screams turn blind. It is quite an agonising process, you know. Maybe that will finally make you stop wasting your tears on trivialities."

Of course, he knew. He probably had smelt it.

I knew how much he hated wasted suffering. This would not go well for Lisbeth.

Vect shook his head. "Not today, though. I lack the patience." His eyes found mine again. Switching languages without effort, he ordered me, "You, follow. Take the wine with you."

I nodded and did as he bade as he marched into the bathroom. The last thing I wanted was to be in the same room as him for a prolonged time, but there was nothing I could do about it.

Naturally, the bath had already been run, and I knew where to put the wine… and myself beside it, on my knees, after I had poured a glass. I once more realised that Vect was terrifying - especially in his current mood - even when he wore nothing but his skin.

The Overlord fleet-footedly hopped into the bathtub, not even looking at me, and took a dive. I knew he would be under water for much longer than you would expect, but also that it did not mean that I could slack off in the slightest. I kept still and quiet, making sure to breathe flatly so I did not disturb him in the slightest. I knew these kinds of evenings, and I knew what to do when the first thing he did was to tell me to shut up.

Eventually, he emerged again and came to me, but not at me. Vect took the wine glass and chugged it. The day really must have been rebarbative.

No point in asking, he would not tell me.

Then, he turned around, and rested his head on the rim of the bathtub, closing his eyes. With a still annoyed inflexion, he sighed, "You know what to do, slave."

I was aware that Vect only called me that when he had issues with me. I was not surprised. Nonetheless, I knew what he expected and started massaging his head. I felt immediately that he was unusually tense; it would take a lot of effort to fix that.

Hence, even though I was tired, I pulled myself together and used my unnatural strength reserves to at least provide the massage the Overlord needed. I had no idea how long it took, but I would not have been surprised if it had been at least two hours. I not only took care of his head, but of his neck and shoulders too.

What really unnerved me was that for one, Vect did not say a single word to me, even though he finished up all the wine in short breaks, and that I could see that he was intensely thinking all while I massaged him. Whatever had come up today, it was something that vexed even him and whatever managed that, was probably deadly danger for anybody else.

After all that, he sat up, and finally looked at me. His obsidians stared right into my soul, as he unblinkingly gazed at me for what seemed like hours. Finally, he slightly shook his head, without taking his eyes off me, sighed deeply and then told me, "I am disappointed in you, Temira. After all I tried to teach you, you still fail not to be swayed by tears."

I lowered my gaze, feeling so very ashamed. Now I had to fight tears, as his disappointment hit harder than any scolding or any physical pain ever could. I did not want to be so weak and so useless. I whispered, "I'm sorry, Overlord. I know I have failed you severely."

The water rippled and I felt his wet hand at my cheek as he lifted my head again. "Yes, you did, Temira. You know I must punish you now, yes?"

"I know," I gave back, biting back the tears even harder. Not because I was afraid of the punishment, but because it hurt what I made him do.

Vect smiled indulgently, yet his inflexion was icy as he stated, "You still have a bit of time to learn before the next Circle meeting. I will make sure you do. No dinner for you. And you will sleep on the floor tonight - in front of the cage."

I gulped and nodded. Even though it certainly was better than searing pain, I still understood the gravity of it all too well. He never before had me banished from his bed, and having to sleep in front of the cage Lisbeth probably would be in, would be hell incarnate.

Yet, again, it fitted the crime. I had failed in walling myself off towards Lisbeth - now I would have to relax and sleep while witnessing her suffering.

Then, the Overlord let go of me, got out of the tub and dried himself. He waved his hand dismissively at me and ordered me, "Get back to little Lisbeth and stay beside her. I do not want you near me today."

The evening continued in this cold manner, with the two of us huddling in our spot and Vect constantly ignoring us, having lengthy dinner and finishing up some work.

Finally, without a word, he came to us and grabbed Lisbeth at her hair. He dragged her to her feet and ordered me, "You, come!"

Naturally, I obeyed, as he dragged her to the cage. He had me kneel beside him and watch as he forced her into the cage. She did not struggle, but he was not gentle with her on purpose and pushed her into the barbs. Her face contorted in agony, but she kept quiet.

I felt nauseous and cold. Never before had Vect made me watch when he hurt Lisbeth like that, and it was just as bad as I had imagined it would be. I did not want to see this. I wanted to stop him, and the horrible thing was, now that I was trained, it was even harder to be courteous and do nothing. But I had to endure. I could not fail him again. He deserved better.

"There. I will give you a reason to cry," Vect coldly grumbled as he locked the cage.

So, I gritted my teeth to not have my face escalate and clenched my fists, as Vect closed the cage around Lisbeth - much tighter than yesterday, I noticed. I had to watch as the barbs closed in around her and penetrated her flesh, her blood flowing from the wounds. Eventually, she whimpered and cried again. It broke my heart.

Vect, naturally, was completely unmoved, his expression was blank as he stood and watched her suffer for a while, probably drinking her agony. Then, he looked at me, and pointed to the spot in front of the cage. "This is your sleeping place. Face the cage," he ordered me.

I nodded, expression pained, and curled up as he bade me. The hard, cold stone exacerbated the iciness inside me. Lisbeth and I were wise enough not to exchange glances, and both closed our eyes.

However, the picture of her trembling in agony would not leave me, and her whimpers and sobs still reached my ears.

The night surely would be hellish.

Asdrubael Vect ground his teeth, finding no rest in his bed. Even though the crude agony of Lisbeth and the mellow emotional suffering of Temira stroked him, they were not enough to take his mind off pondering. Not today. Too many things had happened, and it was now even better that he had decided to make Vyras's execution a spectacle. It would band the High Archons together once more, and make sure that they feared him more than anything else.

As to the project 'Temira', it was going into the diametrical direction he had anticipated. Curious that something as trivial as a mon-keigh connection would mess with his plans. In this case, he truly had overestimated the strength of Temira's indoctrination. As long as it was just the two of them, without Lisbeth, she started to completely bend. But as soon as that meddling bitch was in view, Temira opened up to her again.

Even so, this still could work in his favour. If he managed to disconnect Temira from Lisbeth, he would disconnect her from the very last thing that made her hold on. However, he had realised today that no threat, no horror he could weave, would truly sever that, without having Lisbeth going visibly insane. No. It had to come from Temira herself. Of course, he had already devised a plan on how to commence that and how to pry a wedge between the girls without him visibly interfering. The possibility to use Temira's body now really would come in handy.

However, the strength of their emotions was so illogical, it ground his gears. The ancient mon-keigh race apparently had much stronger connections to one another than the current one. Never before had he seen such a deep connection between two of them, that even survived when both were bent and broken in different ways.

No matter, he told himself. The situation was not critical, Temira still responded nicely to all his triggers. He just had to get Lisbeth out of the picture, but elegantly, and subtly. If he just made sure Temira never saw her again, it would sever the connection too, but it would be a waste.

Vect smiled. Yes, there was one last thing he could reap from Lisbeth's death. It would be a fool's move not to use it.

Lisbeth found little sleep that night. One would think it was because of the barbs in her flesh, but it was not as simple as that. She had adjusted to the pain somewhat over the time she had been with the Overlord.

No, what kept her awake was what happened to Temira. There was clearly something sinister going on with her. The way she had shouted at - no, lectured - her today had reminded her sharply of the Overlord.

He - Lisbeth winced that she did not use the Overlord's title, what was going on with her, the Overlord would kill her if she slipped - was doing something to Temira directly, in some way. Something that could not be seen and that Temira could not notice.

Then again… Temira clearly revered him by now, not just out of admiration, but out of genuine feelings for him. It was sick. All the things he must have done to Temira too, which she did not talk about, had cracked her open, but so slowly that she did not know. Lisbeth knew she was losing her friend. She would try to save what little she could of Temira, but deep in her heart she knew it was a losing battle.

Lisbeth opened her eyes in surprise as she heard that Temira got up. As she looked at her, she noticed that her eyes were now slightly glowing and shining in an intense viridian, not their normal colour.

What the hell…?

Her friend got up, and then walked to the door that led to the garden dome, entering it, and then vanishing. Her movements had been… weird. Was Temira sleepwalking? But then why were her eyes glowing?

Lisbeth now was wide awake, training her senses on the Overlord to hear whether he had noticed, but the Overlord seemed to be trancing alright. At least that.

Wait. She was slipping again. Was that really all it took? Overcoming it once?

Maybe there was more hope for her than she had thought.

What had come over Temira to leave the spot that had been determined for her? And why the weird eyes and movement? What new horror was this?
Lisbeth had to wait quite a while until Temira came back. As she did, Lisbeth noticed that Temira was drenched in sweat. Had she been training? But why in the middle of the night? Was this agreed upon with the Overlord?

Too many questions. She had to ask Temira tomorrow…

…who actually took a shower.

Why the hell was the Overlord not waking up? Surely, he had been weary, but that much…?

Everything about this was strange.

After the sound of the water had subsided, Temira came back, hair still damp, and laid down in the spot she was supposed to be in all along, her expression weirdly blank, not acknowledging her at all.

It took Lisbeth a lot of willpower to shut up her thoughts and get at least some rest.

I rose forcefully, as the Overlord kicked me awake. My training kicked in and I was on my feet and alert in a split-second…

…but was forced to my knees again with a whimper, as unbearable pain shot through my head. It was as bad as when I had been with Vlokarion for my modifications.

I was thoroughly surprised as I sensed Vect crouching beside me. I winced as one of his hands found my neck and gasped in relief as he pushed a certain spot there.

"I'm currently inhibiting your cranial nerves from firing. What is going on, Temira?" he asked me, and he sounded… concerned.

"I… I don't know… it's an unbearable headache," I answered, slowly gathering my senses.

"Seriously, Temira, one night not in a bed and this is what I have to deal with? I thought you were made of sterner stuff," Vect scolded me, but I also heard the amused tone.

"She got up in the night. Her eyes were glowing green. What about that?" Lisbeth weakly commented from the side.

I felt that Vect abruptly looked at her, "She got up? Are you sure?" Another fluent switch to Low Gothic.

"Y… yes, Overlord," she answered. Speaking apparently caused her pain.

Vect grumbled contemplatively. Back in the Drukhari tongue, he deliberated, "Whatever the cause, it certainly is strange. I will look into it." Then, he turned to me, "I am going to let go now and will put you into bed. Try not to vomit."

He did as said and the pain dashed into my head again, making me whimper and I went limp in his grip, feeling the overwhelming need to curl up.

Vect grabbed me around my chest and hips, lifted me effortlessly and put me gently into bed, where I curled up and tried to breathe and meditate to draw back from the pain. It helped, but not by much. At least I managed to fight down the urge to puke.

I barely noticed what transpired between Vect and Lisbeth. From what I gathered, he patched her up so much that she could function again and tend to me. He left in quite the rush afterwards; I figured he would have a talk with Vlokarion to figure out what was wrong with me.

When we were alone, Lisbeth was sitting beside me on the bed, helplessly stroking my head while I tried to cope with it.

"Temira… why did you get up in the night? You know I wasn't lying," she asked me.

Without looking at her - opening my eyes really was a strain - I answered, "I… didn't… get up."

What the hell was she on about? I certainly did not remember getting up.

"Sleep…walking?" I tried to crack a joke.

However, Lisbeth did not take it. "I'm serious. I know what I saw. Your eyes were glowing, you went into the garden, came back drenched in sweat and then you went into the shower."

"Maybe… you dreamt?"

"No, I'm sure I wasn't dreaming. Otherwise I would never have dared to tell the Overlord."

Her words unsettled me. Why would I get up without knowing? What was this new witchery?

Thing was, we both had no idea, and as it seemed, neither did the Overlord. It truly was terrifying, if not even a man as knowledgeable about the workings of this universe knew an immediate answer.

On the bright side, I most likely would see Vlokarion again.

It was the thought that sustained me through the agony.

Vlokarion had known that his little prank on Urien would come at a price. Naturally, the Master Haemonculus had been furious when he had been forced to part with his ancient samples by the Overlord's decree. Surprisingly, the old bastard had already found a way to get back at him. An execution of a high Archon would be commenced soon, and from what he knew, the clones would be involved in it. He lacked the knowledge of the specifics, but Urien had told him that he wanted him there for assistance.

Assistance.

It was a ghastly neologism in his profession. You did not become a Haemonculus to be an assistant, not even to Urien Rakarth himself. Vlokarion sighed.

That he had been taken off the whole clone project for the Overlord's more pressing ascension matter (even though he was keeping track as best as he could of what Urien was doing, after all, he needed it all for his own devices), helped Urien greatly in spiting him. On one hand, the affair truly annoyed him, as it once more stole his spot in the limelight, on the other, it probably was for the better like this. Vlokarion ignored his annoyance and focused on the latter, relishing in the fact that his grand comeback would be much more fun like this anyway.

Yes, what a comeback it would be, indeed for the entirety of Commorragh to see!

He could not hold back a sly chuckle.

Then again, this getback surely was not everything of revenge he had to anticipate from Urien's side. It was but one mosaic stone in a much bigger picture.

Even though he relished the vigilance Urien's retribution required of him, he had his hands full, currently. Developing the essence collection device the Overlord required surely took all his skill, but he certainly enjoyed working within the field of his absolute specialisation again. It had been a while.

However, he was not allowed to lose track of the smaller things Vect required, and one of those was done, so he had to make yet one another unpleasant call.

It took a while after sending his calling sign until the Overlord took it. Apparently, he was busy with other affairs, not an unusual thing.

Yes, busy indeed, with the intricate manipulation of Temira and Lisbeth. Ah, Vlokarion had to be careful here. His connection to Temira's senses was practical, but also dangerous. He now knew her friend's name, but he never had been given it officially, so he had to be careful not to say it. Trivial mistakes like this naturally were not an issue for him to keep track of, but it had happened to several of his arrogant colleagues that they had been spying on Archons and betrayed themselves in such a crude manner.

However, the things he learned about mon-keigh interaction were indeed insightful, when the girls thought they were not observed - at least by him. He surely had to develop a torture method that would utilise the connection between mon-keigh, and more so than just having one watch as you tortured somebody they cared about. It was effective, yes, but he figured it could be expanded upon, like one having to hurt themselves so the other got spared, both strapped to an intricate torture device, and vice versa. A shame, really, Temira and Lisbeth would have been nice study specimens for an experiment like this.

The Overlord's voice in his combead ripped him out of his daydreaming, "Ah, good timing, really, there was something I required from you anyway."

"Anytime, Overlord," Vlokarion fluted.

"You first."

"I'm happy to report that the tool and process to extract Temira's essence from the other girl are ready," Vlokarion cooed gleefully.

"Excellent. Just in time," Vect commended his efforts.
"Is it already time for her to die, Overlord?" Vlokarion was curious. Things were moving fast, apparently.

"No, we still have a few months. Are you aware of the upcoming execution?"

"Naturally, since I… assist… Urien with it." The distaste in Vlokarion's voice was evident. There was no point in hiding it.

"Ah, yes, that move was to be expected from him, now was it not," Vect chuckled, then calmly continuing, "So, at least until said execution, we have time. I still have to assess a few things between the girls."

"Naturally, Overlord," Vlokarion calmly replied, hiding perfectly what he knew. Carefully, he asked, "So, what do you require of me?"

Vect sighed, it was the kind of sigh an overly busy man utters that had to deal with something insignificant, "A trifle matter, really, which I expect you have considered already anyway. I am continuing to train with Temira's body, to make the transition smoother and shorter and to be able to take her over even in dangerous situations, not just as a means for manipulation. The system is working as established, but the impact on her body is severe, leaving her with massive headaches and nausea, not able to function properly. Is there any way to alleviate her symptoms?"

Vlokarion smirked. "You're correct, of course, I have already thought about those complications. I have devised a mixture of specific analgesics and antiemetics which inhibit the side-effects of your presence, but leave her sensitive for all other pain and nausea. It gets applied in the usual manner, by injector. I shall have it delivered to you momentarily." He had foreseen that it only was a question of time until the Overlord needed Temira fully functioning despite his invasions.

"Perfect. However, wait with the delivery, I would like to keep the charade up a bit longer. Also, I want you to come and have a look at Temira, to pretend," Vect demanded.

"Certainly. But, why all this, Overlord?" Vlokarion wanted to know.

"Temira's friend, Lisbeth is her name, for efficiency's sake, worrying over her makes Temira's bond stronger with her again, which will leave a more profound impact if it gets broken, leaving her more open for my designs. Also, I suspect, the imprinting of Temira's essence on Lisbeth gets stronger the closer they bond once more. And, after all, this is what we really want from her, agreed?" Vect's voice carried his self-satisfaction.

Ah. Now the small name obstacle was out of the way too. "A good plan indeed, Overlord. Is it alright if I come around in a few hours' time? I'm in the middle of something that cannot be postponed," Vlokarion asked.

"Naturally. She can take it and I would be a fool not to enjoy her. See you later, then," Vect bade his farewell.

Even though compliments were out of the question, Vlokarion knew that he had Vect's trust - as much as he trusted anybody, which was, admittedly, barely. Still, he stood high enough in the Overlord's regard to be allowed more leniency than most people - something that would be direly necessary, considering his own, private plans.

The thought of getting his hands on Temira again made him rejoice - more samples to perfect his own clone of her, and a little talk with Lisbeth would help him assess Temira's personality better.

Lisbeth looked up in alarm as the door to the quarters opened. She subliminally tensed up - after all, usually only one walked through this door, and his presence certainly would not help Temira at all.

However, to her unending surprise, it was not Vect that entered.

It was the first time she actively met a Haemonculus. Yes, this had to be Vlokarion, nobody else ever had tended to Temira, as far as she knew.

Lisbeth was unsure: she thought she had seen Vlokarion's face before somewhere, but all about that was hazy. She thought it was for the better. Maybe he had once patched her up after Vect had been done with her, or something like that. It was nagging at her mind, but she could not grasp the memory.

"Ah, you must be Lisbeth," he announced, but Lisbeth realised that a translator did the job for him.

That he knew her name unsettled her greatly. Had Temira told him? But why would she do that?

However, she knew better than to be impolite to a person that influential, so she nodded, bowed and gave back, "Yes, I am, my lord." Her hand wandered to Temira's arm for support, but her friend was in too much pain to react much.

Vlokarion nodded and slithered around the bed. 'Eerie' certainly described what Vlokarion was - the way he slightly swayed when he moved on his elongated spine surely gave him the quality of a snake.

Sighing, he seated himself on the other side of Temira and turned her over to him. She barely managed to open her eyes and weakly uttered, "Maester."

Lisbeth noticed that Temira spoke the Drukhari tongue and yet, everything got translated for her this time. She had never figured out how the translators worked and when they would translate everything and when not.

"What have you gotten yourself into now, Temira? Don't speak - I know you don't know, the Overlord told me," Vlokarion rasped. He started examining her and his movements showed an expertise Lisbeth could not even start to understand.

While he worked, he casually asked her, "So, you and Temira - from what I gathered, you two have been close for quite some time, yes?"

Lisbeth winced at the question, because it was so odd. Why would this mad scientist monster even care? However, she knew better than not to answer to a Drukhari torturer, "Yes, we have known each other for some years now and lived together."

"Well, why don't you tell me a bit about your old life? You see, I enjoy a bit of light conversation while I'm working," Vlokarion told her calmly.

His interest in that was absolutely absurd, but there was no chance for her not to answer. She told him how they met, about their joint flat, their jobs, their struggles. Weirdly, he truly seemed to listen intently, and not be bored by her tale.

"Is a connection like that common amongst your kind?" he continued questioning her.

"I… I'm unsure what to say, Maester. Friendships are common. Friends that live together, are too. I just can't judge whether those relationships are the same, as Temira and I have gone through a lot together, more than is usual. Our connection might be deeper than other friendships," Lisbeth tried to explain.

"I see. Curious, that, because among Imperials we rarely see that depth of connection you two display," the Haemonculus explained.

Lisbeth was surprised. "I had no idea, my lord," she truthfully gave back.

Vlokarion shook his head, then asked, "How long has she been like this?"

"Since the Overlord woke her, which was a few hours ago, if I had to guess," Lisbeth answered.

"Very well. I need to return to my lab to see what's wrong with her. Try to get her to drink, at least, I doubt she would be able to keep solid food in. A massage of her scalp and neck might help too, in the meantime. It seems as if I have to discuss analgesics with the Overlord," Vlokarion elaborated. With a horrifying grin that showed his sharp, pointy teeth, he added, "Rare subject indeed."

Lisbeth nodded and told him, "I'll do my best to help her."

Another creepy smile. "I know you will. I can see you care for her. Dangerous, that, you know," Vlokarion darkly uttered.

Lisbeth could not meet his gaze anymore. "I know," she defeatedly replied, "but I can't help it."

"Don't take it so hard, child. Maybe this connection of yours might be good for something you don't yet know about," Vlokarion told her with a horrid smirk.

Lisbeth had the feeling that he implied something with that which she could not fathom.

She was completely confused by now. How the hell could it be that a torture master of the Drukhari was a more amicable fellow than the Overlord? Vlokarion seemed to be not too bad - apart from his obvious relishing of Temira's suffering.
"Maybe… thank you, my lord," she told him, biting back her tears with all her might. Even false friendliness was a rare thing in her life right now.

Vlokarion chuckled and got up. The sound made her hackles rise. He slithered to the door, but before he exited, he cooed, "Goodbye, little Lisbeth. I have the feeling that we shall meet again very, very soon."

Little could Lisbeth know how they would meet again.

The sleepwalking happened again, two times. And each time it happened, Temira was out for the day after.

What really worried Lisbeth about the situation, was that Temira's suffering not only happened when she was up and about in the night. She also sometimes felt terrible for no reason, stunned by mind-breaking migraines. Lisbeth feared for her life.

Nobody knew what was wrong with Temira, and according to the Overlord's words, Vlokarion was conducting research with samples he had taken at his visit. She hoped that this creepy, spindly creature found a way to help her friend.

Lisbeth understood why Temira was alright with Vlokarion, he seemed a much more pleasant fellow to be around and had actually not been wantonly cruel to her, even though it would have been easy for him. Then again, all his nicety probably just was another ploy by the torturer. You could trust nobody around here.

Thus, months passed, with Temira suffering time and again, until it finally… stopped. Just her suffering, not her nightly ventures. Whether Vlokarion had come up with a solution, or the issue had sorted itself out, remained a mystery. However, Lisbeth was uneasy about it. Something about all this was very, very wrong.

She should find out about the specifics pretty soon.

"I know what I saw!" Lisbeth sounded desperate.

"You have to see that what you say makes little sense. I'm fine. Since my headaches were not entirely connected to my presumed sleepwalking and I now feel completely alright again, you have to see that you were imagining it after all," I tried to reason with her. Her paranoia was getting… tiring. I really did not want to dismiss her so harshly, but what she claimed made no sense. She was not in her right mind, and she clearly did not want to see it.

"Yes, I know, it's weird! But still…" She uttered a helpless sound and threw her arms in the air. "I'm losing my mind, aren't I."

I sighed deeply and gave back, "We both are, up to a certain point. Considering how you have to spend your nights, it's only logical that you would have some very vivid nightmares."

"But the same, recurring one?"

"You know that the human mind is weird."

Lisbeth sighed, then shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe you're right. Maybe I am. I… I just…" She broke down in tears - again. There was little of her willpower left, not that it was unsurprising, but the more time I had spent with her, the more I had realised what a thin layer really held her together.

This had happened time and again the past few months, and I had tried to ease her pain by consoling her. It had not helped. Nothing had changed her or given her strength. At this point, to do anything was meaningless.

I was not moved anymore when I saw her crying. It was utterly different to how I had felt shortly after we had been reunited. This gave me a chill I had not known before, but it was how it was. The months we now had spent with each other had shown me that she would ultimately fail, especially because Vect had eased up on her a bit too.

I came to her, and held her, but it was not sincere anymore. I did it because it was the right - human - thing to do, but there was no emotion attached to it anymore, no hurt to see her like that, no compassion. I wondered if she felt it too.

And today was an especially bad day for her to crack up. The Overlord had announced that today the execution of Vyras would commence and we, of course, had to be there to serve. He would not be left without his two personal slaves for an occasion this important. It would be rough, that much was evident, because it at least meant dealing with the Circle. What remained unclear was whether the High Archons of the other big Kabals would be present. If so, this would be even harder and Lisbeth's fragile state would not help at all.

I could not save her. It had broken my heart a while back, but now it was just a cold certainty. I had to move on, if I wanted to survive, or I would drown with her.

So I held her until she stopped crying, devoid of words. I knew they did not change anything, so why bother?

Nonetheless, it still shook me. I was losing my grip entirely. I felt so cold recently. Nothing touched me, really. Surely, what Vect did to Lisbeth was not easy to watch, but I had felt clearly how my feelings had drifted away. First, it had been subtle, slow, imperceptible, but the longer it had gone on, the more I had realised it. Gradually, I kept losing all feelings for Lisbeth.

Naturally, the Overlord still kept being a menace. I feared and revered him as ever, my feelings towards him had not changed.

I was sure it had to do something with the headaches. After each time I had had them, I had felt a bit colder. Untouchable. Empty. Something clearly was changing in me. However, I focused on the gratefulness about my master deeming me worthy enough to have Vlokarion look for a solution. I suspected he had actually found one, because that everything was fine again from one day to the next surely was strange, to put it mildly. I took it that when I had been sleeping I had been infused with a substance that counteracted my pain. I was grateful, even though I could not be sure. But if my master deemed it right not to tell me the specifics, then that was that. No questions asked. I had learnt that lesson.

The thing I grieved most was that I had not been in a state of mind to talk to Vlokarion while he had visited. I enjoyed our talks. In fact, even though I knew it was not that simple at all, I considered him my friend. That said, his interest in Lisbeth's thoughts on our friendship had been strange. Clearly, he was plotting, but what exactly, I could not know. I supposed I would see, as usual.

When Lisbeth finally had calmed down again, it was already high time to prepare for the day.

Vect had left very early today, apparently he was busy with some other tasks before the whole event went down. In general, I had noticed that he had been out much longer in recent times than when I had started being with him. Additionally, when he had come back, he either had been ill-tempered or unusually tense. Clearly, something major was going on, so huge, that it required his direct attention. That was never a good sign. Something that troubled Asdrubael Vect was bad news for everybody else too.

Since it was hard for me to estimate which date we had, I could not be sure, but I guessed that Khaine's Gate had become a real issue by now.

We made sure to be styled and in our clothes as fast as possible, to be ready when the Overlord would have us fetched. When I saw what we would be wearing today, I realised that indeed this would be an inter-Kabal meeting. It was the annoying attire with the extra chains again. Well, at least I knew what I had to deal with from Xerathis's side.

Also, I got my Agoniser-rings back. This was it, then. If things went sideways, Lisbeth would see me torture and finally realise what kind of monster I had become. There was no way around it.

Then, I sharply realised that I had never served the Circle in the chain attire before. I was sure that some of them would come up with nasty ways to use it against me. However, that was my lot, and I would have to deal with it.

What consoled me was that it was the first time I faced all of them after I had won the Carnival. Even though I was aware my victory was insignificant in the grand scope of things, I, at least, had made myself noticed with that, and clear to them that the Overlord would not part quickly or easily with me as his personal slave, which should give me some safety, at least.

Lisbeth, however… was screwed.

I sincerely was contemplating whether I should try to shield and help her or not. It was callous, I was aware of that, but I also feared that Vect taking us both to such an important occasion was another test of my obedience. Whether I would be able to look out solely for myself or I would sacrifice my reputation to shield her.

The answer was clear. I had to let her fall. I just was unsure whether I could do it, even with all this indifference. There still was a spark left. Seeing her suffer in private, by Vect's hand, was one thing. Seeing her put on display for amusement was another. I was unsure how to deal with this.

However, my thinking time was over, because the door opened and Vect marched in, came without any word or break directly to us, chained Lisbeth and gestured for me to follow.

I jogged along beside my master - because I knew he allowed me to - and asked him, "Overlord, if I may, who will be present for this occasion?"

"My Circle and the ten High Archons," he answered.

Just as I had thought…

Wait.

Ten?

The last time, it was eight! Who had been added to this high-end meeting? I almost asked this question, but then realised that I would see anyway.

Then, still, there was something I wondered about.

"Interesting. I thought that you also wanted to have your enemies see what happens if your trust is betrayed like this," I noted. I did not dare to question further, knowing that he would shut that down immediately.

Pensively, Vect asked me, "Tell me, child, how do executions work in your dimension?"

"Well, where they are still a thing, they are a rather small-scale occasion. Only a few people are allowed to watch, if at all. However, in the past, executions were a huge deal and a spectacle for everybody to see," I explained.

Vect chuckled. It was of the scornful sort. "I am not surprised that your limited species started shying away from making final decisions."

I had to find that I agreed with him on that. Some things were unforgivable.

Derisively, he continued, "Temira, I thought you were less naïve than that. Of course, the entirety of Commorragh is watching. Did you truly believe that I would let such an opportunity go to waste?"

I shook my head, "No, master, of course not!"

All that made sense. Of course, his enemies seeing Vyras die in a probably spectacular way was what Vect wanted - but it also allowed them to gloat. Was that not counterproductive?

However, I decided to dispense with further questions and kept hurrying along with my master. He held quite the pace, more so than usual. I had no issues keeping up, but Lisbeth soon was short of breath. It was unsurprising, my upgrades really made me shine in that regard.

This time, we went to a part of Corespur I had never been to. It still was on the upper levels, yes, but in a corner I had not visited so far. Here, everything had a more official touch, bigger hallways, fancier decorations, a multitude of guards. It felt… festive.

Probably because it was.

At least for one.

The gate opened, and the vast hall we were in held a huge arena. The entrance to the room was on the side of the arena and its inwardly-bent wall, then a passage led to the stairs that paved the way to a viewing gallery. The gallery was spread out over various steps, and set with elegant chairs and tables. On the top stair, obviously Vect's place was, a single throne with a table of its own. Several slaves also tended to the tables. I knew some faces, most were new to me. However, I realised, this was the usual crew that also waited tables in the throne room. Apparently, they experienced quite some personnel fluctuation, which was unsurprising.

I was surprised to find that all the invited Archons were already assembled. There was a tangible sincerity and tension in the air, conversations were stopped, and one after the other they bowed as Vect passed them.

I was surprised. I had figured everything would be more festive, as in the Carnival festivities, but apparently even Drukhari Archons had their minds overshadowed by the fact that one of them had misstepped and would die horribly here today.

The room was dreadfully silent as Vect marched to the seat that was his.

The Archons had not been sitting in the gallery, though, they had apparently waited for the Overlord's arrival at the feet of the stairs.

I winced as I realised that Malys was here too. She stood a bit apart from the rest of the Archons. It looked weird, somehow.

Right. She had been conspiring with Vyras. However, if so, why was she allowed to view the whole thing live?

I gulped. This day just got a lot more complicated. She was a force to be reckoned with, that I had direly felt in the short time I had met her at the festivities.

Another new face was found in the rows of the Archons. Adorned with a stylised rose made out of obsidian, it was obvious that this had to be Aestra Khromys, Archon of the Obsidian Rose, risen to power from the slave ranks, murdering her way to the top of the Kabal. Eyes and hair pitch-black, she was yet another elegant addition to the meeting of the High Archons. Even though I knew that she and Malys were allies, and had conspired with her in one of the assassination attempts against me, she was also not standing close to her. This was certainly strange.

Also, I saw a new face in the ranks of the Circle. It made sense, after all, Vyras had fallen from grace. The new Archon crassly contrasted from the rest of the other Drukhari, because his hair was completely white. He looked young too, but as I knew all too well, this alone was no indicator of his true age. Who precisely was he? Not knowing about an Archon was a dangerous thing for me. Maybe I could shake some information loose from the others.

Also, it brought another complication with it. In which order was I to serve them? Did the new guy take over Vyras's seat completely, rank and all, or did he start out at the bottom? Relentless Drukhari logic would dictate the latter, but I had to be sure.

There were a lot of things I had to find out today, as it seemed.

The next thing that puzzled me was that none of the Archons wore armour today. In fact, they were all dressed rather simply. Was that to show their token humbleness about the occasion?

It was weird seeing all of them out of their armour and in rather simple clothes - well, 'simple' still meant robes and dresses made out of finest materials with artful decoration, but there were no wild colours to be seen and the decorations were held rather minimalistically. Also, no audacious hairstyles were on the menu, just the simple Drukhari plait. It was nothing compared to what I was allowed to see at the Carnival festivities.

Now that I realised it, Vect was the only one wearing his usual, grand attire. There had to be a reason for these particular clothes. Drukhari could be painfully subtle if they wanted to.

I would ask around. I wanted to know the specifics. This was another level of canniness I yet wanted to understand. Malys's position apart from the rest and the drastic change in attire surely had to mean something specific.

But, for now, I was to go with the Overlord and sit to the right of his seat, on the floor, while Lisbeth had to take the left and the lifeguard loosely surrounded Vect's place. We both dropped to our knees and lowered our gazes, as it was expected of us.

Vect remained standing, Sceptre in hand, sighing deeply and he announced gravely, "Once more, one of my children audaciously tried to betray me. Wasting my time on such trifle matters vexes me greatly, for there are so many other important things that require my attention. I expect that after today, all of you are once more reminded why I rule supreme and why none of you should even dare to dream about defying me."

It surprised and stung me that Vect truly sounded irked with these words. Maybe he cared more about his underlings than what had been let on in the books I had read.

Then, he put some more levity into his inflexion and continued, "However, if I have to waste my time on such trifling matters, I might as well try and enjoy them, for this serious occasion is also a celebration. A celebration of our relentless way of life, which makes us the unapproachable predators we are." He flashed a vile smile, and chucklingly added, "Additionally, it is a celebration of the fact that Lady Malys came to her senses and was so decent to assist me with housekeeping." With that, Vect seated himself, still grinning like a cat in a milk factory, and gestured to the Archons to do the same.

I shuddered. That last sentence was a major jab. So, Malys had been in cahoots with Vyras after all. Vect clearly made it sound like she had helped him willingly - which I doubted was the case. However, none could be sure, so it now made sense that they all shunned her for that. Yes, clearly, a major political move was played out here too, by Vect destroying Malys's credibility.

While the Archons seated themselves, Vect unchained Lisbeth and said to me, "You know what to do."

It was time for us to start service, because into the arena poured quite the amount of Wyches, to set up a proper spectacle for this kind of echelon to enjoy.

I got up, bowed to him, and took Lisbeth to the side, where the rest of the slaves were waiting. I had to clear some things.

Quietly, I told them, to not disturb the assembly, "I know you don't like me, to put it mildly. I can understand why. But you also must understand that my hide is the one that is most on the line here, because your mistakes fall back on me. So, do as I tell you, and we all will get through this smoothly."

I did not have to tell them what would happen if they did not heed my words. The rings on my fingers were a clear enough warning.

"I will interact with the Archons as much as possible, Lisbeth will assist me. If you serve the orders, keep your mouths shut and don't look at them. It's best to act like shadows. Attention will get you hurt. But that pain won't be on me," I coldly told them. I felt even less for them now. I would never forge any other friendship around here, that I now sharply realised. As things stood, it was better that way. I had been singled out from the very beginning and now that they probably all knew that I was a killer, this would not change. Yes, I had hoped that maybe I could connect more to them via Lisbeth, but now that my feelings had almost died towards her, I realised that I no longer could relate to my own kind.

Commorragh surely had broken me in that regard.

But was that surprising?

I never had been particularly gregarious and always a bit misanthropic.

After my speech, I took Lisbeth and went a bit further away. When I deemed the distance appropriate, I looked her in the eye and told her, "Firstly, you are aware that you have to be the second main waiter for the Archons, yes?"

Lisbeth nodded quietly, obviously afraid.

"And secondly, I hope you understand that on one hand, I mostly won't be able to shield you and on the other, I might have to punish somebody. Can I be sure that you can handle that or do I have to worry?" I straight out continued. There was no time for subtlety or gentleness now. I had shied away from talking with her about this earlier, because I had feared the longer it would linger on her mind, the worse it would get.

"I'm aware of those things. Don't worry, I got it," she answered me.

I was relieved. I was sure this had been genuine. I so needed her reassurance, as I realised. Smiling warmly, I told her, "Alright. Thank you. This'll be hard enough anyway."

Feeling a lot surer of myself, I returned to the assembly together with her, and went straight back to the Overlord. After all, leaving him wanting was not an option.

Also, I needed some answers.

Back at the Overlord's side, I bowed to him and then softly asked, "How may I serve, master? I have the feeling the occasion merits something rather special."

Vect chuckled and gave back, stroking my hair, "Ah, Temira, I have missed your wit for sure. Yes, you are right, it does." He frowned, then continued, "Come to think of it, it is actually something from my private reserves. I am afraid I have to send you back to my quarters after all."

I was dead sure he had not flat-out forgotten about it. This was a gambit, but to what end…?

"May I have Lisbeth fetch it?" I immediately leapt on the opportunity to get her out of here for a while. It would make things easier for me too, since I would not have to worry for her.

Another cold smile graced his features and he stared at me intensely. "You may not. She can use the practice. You, however, do not need it." Leaning in on me, he softly snarled, "Do not think I do not see your hidden thoughts on that. Do not try to shield her. By now, you should have realised that it will not happen, no matter what you try."

"I'm aware, Overlord. And even though you're, of course, right, I also wanted to get her away to not further sharpen the situation with her inaptness," I explained. It was not a lie. This had been my second thought. It was harsh to voice it like that, but it was true.

I visibly relaxed as his smile took on a satisfied quality. "Good, I see I finally taught you to think in multiple layers. However, my answer remains unchanged. I like the tenseness of the situation."

"Of course, master. One last thing, if I may?" I pried further.

"Make it quick," Vect sighed.

"What about the serving order? Where do I put the new Circle member and how shall I act with Archons Malys and Khromys?" I needed to know.

"Treat Cor'ech as if he was Vyras, serve Malys before all other external Archons and Khromys last," he instructed me. "Oh, and sweeten the beverage in the quarters, I do not want anybody leeching off of you."

So, I had the name and rank of the new Archon. Interesting. I would have bet that he had to start at the bottom. Or was this another gambit?

That Vect would have me serve Malys before all other external Archons fitted the picture of him wanting to discredit her as much as possible perfectly. She had betrayed him, maybe even too close for comfort, and this was the price she had to pay. If she had any allies among those Archons beforehand, she surely would have none afterwards.

Then, Vect told me which bottle he wanted me to fetch, and I made sure I was on my way as quickly as possible. I instructed Lisbeth to start with the Circle in the meantime and told her about the serving order. Then, I left. I hoped that I would be back before she had to tend to the external Archons. I did not want them to go medievial on me when she fucked things up.

The way was pretty straightforward, and I once more had a virtual map to follow, like I had when I had run my errand to Zuol. Nevertheless, it was quite the way, so I had to hurry.

While I was running, I let my mind wander.

What was evident was the intention behind having me run back for a drink. It would remove me for a while and have Lisbeth take the brunt of punishment. At the same time, it could be a balancing act to the show of superiority and the insult that it produced when we served the Black Heart Archons first. Show of superiority, because naturally, the Black Heart came first, but insult, because the Archons of the Black Heart were not true Archons, or, at least, deemed as such by the external ones. After all, none of them truly ruled the Black Heart, they all served Vect.

By having his Circle served by the lesser of his two personal slaves, things got mitigated. However, I doubted that Vect needed that mitigation to begin with, I suspected that his main goal still remained pushing Lisbeth to her boundaries - or breaking them.

Apparently, I was not as dead towards her as I had thought. That she had reassured me before certainly had rekindled the warm fire in me a bit again. This friendship was not dead. I dared to hope. I clung to it, for reasons I could not fathom. Otherwise, I would not hurry so much that my lungs almost burst.

My upgraded body let me make the way in a really short amount of time, and I was sure that before the Carnival I would have taken at least three times as long.

In the quarters, I sweetened the beverage, carefully closed it again and then quickly made my way back.

Would I be fast enough?

Back at the hall, I took a minute or so back in front of the gates to not be completely out of breath and sweating like crazy. I knew that they would not mind me panting and perspiring, but I did not want to push my olfactory pleasantness.

When I had gained most of my composure again, I entered the hall, to find with relief that Lisbeth just finished serving Tahril. However, things had not gone entirely smoothly for her, as I could tell from the slash across her belly and the bite mark on her neck.

With a dignified pace, I went to Vect, gestured to one of the slaves to bring me the right glass and served him his drink.

After bowing to him once again, I then went on my way to Archon Malys.

Oh, it was a meeting I dreaded. I could feel the cold radiating off her, she most likely was steaming. I could not blame her, Vect had made sure to embarrass her.

The smell of snow was also something I caught on her. Snow drenched in chemicals, with a hint of vanilla. It was rather unsurprising for the Archon of the Poisoned Tongue.

I quietly bowed to her, careful about conversation. The snake surely was curled up to strike.

As she realised that I had come to her before anybody else, I could see the corners of her mouth slightly twitch in disgust, but she kept her serene smile mostly in place. "Typical," she sighed.

"My lady?" I asked her innocently.

Malys scoffed. "Nothing the puny mind of a mon-keigh would understand," she hissed at me. Snake indeed.

"Of course, my lady. What may I do for you?" I asked her politely, not showing that I knew very well what she was talking about. However, I could not shake the feeling that she realised that too, but did not show it. However, that was how Malys played the game - stay cool and show nothing, no matter what. From what I knew, she played it well.

"Considering the bitterness of the occasion, why not something to match it," she cooly stated.

I nodded and left. It was clear that she was testing me.

I decided to personally bring her the drink, to maybe milk something more out of her. Presenting her with what I had chosen with a bow, I announced, "I hope this is to your liking, my lady."

She took the glass, sniffed it, then mused, "You are sharp, though I know that the Overlord does not suffer blunt individuals."

"That much is evident, Archon," I obediently gave back.

"But there is something you are not sure of, right?" she openly asked me.

"True, my lady," I directly told her.

"Ask," she simply stated.

I was surprised for a second that she would even consider giving me an answer. Then, I realised, it probably was to figure me out more. I was Vect's prized possession - she probably wanted to know why.

"Why even allow the Overlord's enemies to watch?" I asked, keeping the question vague on purpose.

Malys smiled, the quality of a glacier in that smile, and explained, "Only Vect's allies get to see Vyras's demise live and savour the suffering, while his enemies just get to see his level of creativity with somebody that truly angered him. After all, viewscreens do not convey essence energy to savour."

Ah, yes, that made a lot of sense. I should have seen it coming.

I nodded and said, "Yes, of course, that is perfectly reasonable, Archon."

Malys narrowed her eyes and pensively stated, "You understand Drukhari very well."

"Yes, my lady. I've had a lot of time to," I gave back, keeping it again vague, knowing she was a very dangerous person to deal with.

"Hmm, I can't shake the feeling that there's more to that. But I'm sure the Overlord has forbidden you to tell me," she chuckled. "Very well. Be on your way. This conversation is over."

There was no arguing with that and I would be damned if I stayed any longer. I bowed to her and went over to Malidrach.

The Reaver king scolded me by not even wasting a look at me. I had not forgotten our previous encounters, hence, I kept my mouth shut and just bowed subserviently to him.

Only now I realised the slight whiff of heavy chemicals on him. Yes, I knew that his Kabal resided over the Poisoned Crown, the most heavily poison-ridden part of High Commorragh, hence, it made perfect sense that those toxins would cling to him like a cloak of terror. It fitted him.

"Ah, the lucky bitch returns," he scoffed. "I'm hardly surprised that you only won because you got saved by a bounty hunter." With a vile smile, he added, "Ironic that it should be the one to hunt you down in the end."

I had expected that kind of mockery. However, what was news to me was that the one that had saved me had been the one to hunt me down in the end. Malidrach surely had a sharp eye.

"True that, my lord," I humbly commented. "May I serve you, Archon?"

Malidrach studied me with the acuteness of a hawk. "You really don't mind, do you," he mused.

"My lord?" I gave back carefully.

"Me calling you names and pointing out your flaws."

"No, my lord, I know them to be true. I know I was lucky," I truthfully gave back.

"Curious. Then you've learnt that lesson far quicker and more thorough than most," he mocked me.

"I guess so, Archon. Now, to your wishes…?"

"You don't remember? Disappointing for the Overlord's favourite whore."

"I just wanted to be sure that your wishes hadn't differed. Finest dry wine it is," I gave back, not hiding what I knew this time.

I instructed the other slaves to serve him his drink. I had more important matters to tend to.

My next visit surely rang much more pleasant. Archon Yaelindra, had been, after all, a favour-giver and gentle touch so far.

With a bow, I greeted her, "Welcome, Archon Yaelindra."

She chuckled, a falsely coy, slightly coquet chime. I realised Yaelindra smelt of delicate flowers. Flowers that had a bitter sting of poison underneath, perfectly fitting her expertise and Kabal. She was, after all, the Queen of Lhamaeans.

"So good to see you, Temira! That was quite an occasion with Tahvyn at the festivities, huh?" she tittered.

"It… sure was. Thank you for your help, my lady," I gave back truthfully once more. She had saved my hide back then, there was no denying that.

"No need to thank me, girl. It gave me a good opportunity to reign Tahvyn in." Rapidly changing the topic, she continued, "I have to admit, it was quite refined how you dispatched Shatra. She would have put up more of a fight otherwise."

"I was aware of that, my lady. She was a worthy opponent. I thought it best to play my cards wisely," I explained.

"And it was a good idea! Elegant. Lovely. Good for you, Temira!" Yaelindra chuckled.

"My lady, even though I enjoy our talk, may I inquire on your wish of beverage?" I politely asked.

"Considering you managed to piss Malidrach off once more, why not some more of that delicious berry wine you delivered last time? I love to savour his teeth-gnashing hatred," she derisively stated.

"Of course, Archon."

I brought her her drink myself. After all, there were Kabal ties to be maintained.

The next guest was more of a challenge: Archon Llanthei.

I bowed to her, quietly greeting her, "Archon?"

Llanthei radiated boredom. I was not sure whether it was a facade or actual feelings. Apart from that, the scent of worked metal and bent flesh radiated from her, fitting the belligerent and beauty-seeking tone of her Kabal.

Having her head rested on the tips of her thumb, index finger and middle finger, she sighed, "Yes, yes. Let's get on with it, shall we. I require a strong, neutral spirit. Something to cloud the mind. This obvious move is driving me insane."

"Naturally, Archon," I stiffly replied. She did not seem to be in the mood for games.

Groaning, she added, "Rogal was a true letdown. I had thought that his wits would carry him further."

"He did make it to the dome, though," I tried to cheer her up.

She scolded me with a slash across my waist. "Learn to read when I'm not in the mood for talk, slave."

I clearly had misstepped here. Hence, I bowed and left her. The wound was not serious, I would be able to bear it without issues.

I dreaded the next Archon. I had not forgotten what Akhara'Keth had done to me the last time. Reprimand notwithstanding, he was ancient, and he was hungering for soul energy all the time. Considering I apparently was a treat, he would try to leech off me.

As expected of me, I humbly bowed to him and greeted him.

While I did, his scent hit my nose. It once more exacerbated the notion to me that he was closer to death than he was to life. He had the heavy, earthy musk of wet earth and a mausoleum on him. Akhara'Keth did not just look the part, he also surely smelt like he was half gone.

"I guess my champion gifted you victory after all," he croaked with his ancient voice.

"True that, Archon," I shortly gave back. I would only exchange as many words as needed with Akhara'Keth.

"Shame that you didn't even take him down yourself," the old Archon grated on.

"I took my chances where it made sense," I cautiously gave back.

"Yes, I guess you did." Akhara'Keth certainly sounded sour.

However, it now made me realise that it would be that and not anything more. Vect had harshly scolded him the last time and he would be an utter idiot if he dared the blade a second time.

I took his order - no guessing game this time for me - and went on with my work.

The next Archon I almost dreaded as much as Akhara'Keth, but for entirely different reasons. Archon Thyndrak's gaze shone in her usual madness, her overly-sharp and aged face openly showing her state of mind. With feverish glowing eyes, she looked at me, and I froze as she gently caressed my cheek - in the exact same manner she had the last time we had met, even at the same spot, reminding me sharply of the cut I had had there the last time.

My throat closed up as I caught her scent, and wondered why I had not sensed it the first time we had met. It was heavily chemical, there was nothing natural about her odour. I had no names for the things I smelt, but I knew her body (and her mind?!) was probably only held together by the massive cocktail she had taken.

"Little girl, I'm so regretful that you were allowed to take the place I wanted to inherit - bathed in the blood of my competitor." She sighed and slightly shook her head, while she was pinching my cheek. "But you did not appreciate it, such a shame." She patted my cheek. "Oh look at you, frozen now too. You did not really learn your lesson, hmm? You don't understand, do you?"

"I'm afraid not, Archon," I dutifully replied, not entirely sure what she wanted from me - if there was a point to her mad rambling.

Thyndrak leant in on me - I had to muster all my willpower to not back away - kissed my forehead, and whispered against it, "That you should savour somebody else's death, not shy away from its beauty." She moved away again, one of her sharp nails repainting the cut from last time with ripping pain, and she continued, "I thought you were smarter than that, little butterfly. Try not to get your wings clipped."

I stood what she did quietly, having felt much worse, but still found that I was trembling. "Thank you for teaching me, Archon," I gave back calmly, though I wanted to flee.

Thyndrak waved dismissively at me. "You know what I like. Bring me that and then no longer sully my joy with your presence."

I nodded, bowed to her and did exactly that. That could have gone worse.

Unsurprisingly, I also dreaded the next meeting. I had not forgotten how easily Xerathis had invaded my mind the last time. However, he appreciated my calmness, so I would give him that. I bowed to him and then calmly looked him in the eye.

As his scent touched my nose, I understood a number of layers more about Xerathis. The odour that surrounded him was subtle, sweet, and lovely, making you want to inhale more of it - which was when you realised too late that it also was debilitating. I felt a bit light-headed and more relaxed, like I was slightly tipsy. This was dangerous. I could make mistakes here.

Xerathis chuckled. "I did a pretty good number on everybody with that stupid oaf I had in the Carnival, didn't I."

I smiled too, it was an honest smile, my turned head made it easy. "Indeed. It surely was entertaining seeing him despair in the end."

"Ha! I knew I liked you the first time we met. Yes, that certainly was delicious. And all while you tried to warn them! I have to admit, I hadn't considered that possibility, but it made the end oh-so much sweeter!" He ran his pointy-nailed fingertips over the side of my neck, bathing me in goose-bumps. "You also bear it well, you know."

I blinked confusedly. God, it was so hard to think! "What, Archon?"

"The mind-bending perfume, dear. It usually is more debilitating to your kind. Then again, I guess your upgrades for the Carnival are top-notch and there is some poison resistance in there, correct?" Xerathis mused, obviously enjoying the conversation.

"That is true, Archon," gave back. Yes, why not ask him? He liked talking to me. "May I ask you something?"

"Oh sure, why not. Those Wyches are nice, but nothing to write home about, really," Xerathis commented on the spectacle.

"Why are all of you wearing such simple attires? I've been puzzled by it since I saw it," I wondered.

"Ah, yes, one of the slight touches the Overlord loves so much. You see, girl, when it comes down to high-end executions, everybody except the Overlord, who decrees said executions, is expected to show their subservience to him and to acknowledge his power over all. Hence, we show up in rather simple clothes to honour the occasion," Xerathis explained.

"That is so logical that I'm embarrassed I haven't picked up on it," I openly admitted.

Xerathis chuckled again, then stated, "Alright, enough chit-chat, lest the others might think I take too much liking to you. Go do what you're here for."

So I did.

As I walked away from him and the airborne poison cleared from my system, I was shaken by my casualness and openness. Holy hell, I had been lucky once more. If Xerathis would have wanted to punish or confound me, it would have been child's play for him.

I served him his drink, and moved on.

This time, I knew how to handle Kyhrac. He also smelt lovely, an utterly discrete, floresque scent about him, softening me up and making me adore him, all while I bloody well knew how that had gone the last time. Of course, the narcissist would use mind-bending stuff too, but to further other ends. I just bowed to him, finding it smarter to keep my mouth shut.

Alas, it was to no avail. Kyhrac grabbed me by my throat, choking me. "You lucky cunt," he hissed, fangs bared, "you just escaped because of the dumbest rule in this whole contest. Cadriel should have won this, and we both know it. You fell for his farce. You all did."

I could not answer, as he choked the life out of me, and, to further my suffering, he punched me in the stomach. It was a fair hit and there was no breathing out for me to mitigate the punch. My knees caved in under me, which made me bang my head on the armrest of his chair, because he let go of me.

"Pathetic, just as I saw," he snarled, as he grabbed me by my hair, pulled me upwards so I came lying in his lap, my back arched and painfully overstretched.

My eyes widened as I saw the dagger he produced, a barbed, jagged thing that would rip terrible wounds.

"You owe me screams, you useless drab," Kyhrac growled, his eyes shining with malice, as he raised the dagger.

I cried out in fear, expecting ripping pain.

It never came.

In the split of a second, one of the Incubus-Hierarchs of Vect's lifeguard was beside him and hit the dagger out of his hand, caught it elegantly and rammed it into the backrest of Khyrac's seat, millimetres away from his head.

"Archon Kyhrac, get a hold of yourself!" Vect's powerful voice boomed through the hall.

Kyhrac, who had not winced at the dagger jab so close to his face, winced now and let go of me, pushing me off him.

Calmly, he faced Vect, who continued, "It is hardly appropriate for an Archon of your stature to fly in such a rage about a lost slave. Quite embarrassing, do you not agree?"

"Forgive my outburst, Overlord, but at the same time you also know that I'm right. She just won because of sheer, dumb luck," Khyrac gave back. Was he out of his mind to challenge Vect like this?

"Luck?" Vect echoed, raising one eyebrow inquisitively, staying interestingly calm. "If you call using her knowledge about the competition and understanding when to not engage in a fight she cannot win, luck, then yes, yes, it was luck. Perhaps you should rather take her cunning as an example for your own ventures - you never knew when to back away from a fight. You might learn that lesson finally after all. Ironic that it had to be taught to you by a mon-keigh slave and your own, foolish, narcissistic rage."

Oof. That insult had done far more damage than a dagger to the face ever could have. The thing was, Vect had a point, and a good one, and everybody could see it.

The Archons chuckled menacingly about Khyrac's major faux pas.

The only thing Khyrac really could do here was to back down. He was still trembling with rage, but he was not a total idiot, and did the only thing he could, replying, "That is irrefutable logic, Overlord. I apologise."

"Good, and now, next time, you might consider that before you lose face," Vect destroyed his apology.

Heart still pounding, and still shaky, I moved away and had others serve Khyrac his drink, and then moved on to Archon Vaulkhere.

I remembered not to talk to him, so I just bowed and took his order in silence. Vaulkhere was a belligerent one, and his scent underlined that. I caught weapon oil and armour polish, earthy and metallic, even though he was not wearing armour.

We interacted scarcely, just the necessaries exchanged. It came as no surprise. After what had just transpired between Khyrac and Vect, and both surely still worked up about it, it was wise for the half-disgraced Thornlord to keep it down.

However, I could tell he was quietly seething too. After all, I had dispatched his champion, Hector, and quite efficiently so. Nonetheless, he was wiser than to vent his frustration.

Last was another new encounter for me. I never had worked with Lady Khromys before, and what I knew about her was scarce too. I quietly bowed to her, to await her order. Khromys also clearly was a belligerent one. She was bathed in a cloud of metal works smell, heavy chemicals, hot metal, acid and iron. It was a crass contrast to her slender and elegant physique, but this lady knew her weapons. She was, after all, the weapons expert in Commorragh.

With a surprisingly soft and fluting voice, she said to me, "It was a fine choice of yours to have Lelith Hesperax train you. You certainly needed the edge."

"Indeed, Archon," I politely gave back.

"Too bad that our competitors never met. I think it would have been a fine clash between the two of you. She was very similar to you, small, fast, yet strong. Too bad that she chose the wrong path to walk down and all that is left of her now is a pile of ash," Khromys told me.

"She certainly would have been a challenge, considering that I did not train with her," I agreed.

I realised that this conversation was pointless, and I wondered what her deal was. Was she so cautious? Did she try to figure me out in a way I could not fathom? I knew that Khromys was a particularly sharp knife, but I also knew that she was young, and she had to tread carefully, especially with things between Malys and Vect so heated, and her in the middle.

"You wear it curiously well, this responsibility of being the Overlord's personal slave. Many before you have withered far quicker and acutely than you did so far. I wonder what the secret behind that is," she casually stated.

Ah, there we had the knife. Of course, she would be prying, having picked up on my difference to the rest of the slaves. However, I would give her nothing, and calmly replied, "Many before you have wondered, and none, me included, have found the answer. I guess it is one of the huge mysteries."

Khromys shrugged. "I don't think so, but with your master breathing down your neck, you'll hardly talk."

This sentence she had said in the Drukhari tongue, measuring my reactions.

So she did suspect I could understand it. Maybe it was something Malys had picked up and told her? After all, those two were close, and it would make sense that they would try to shake something loose from me.

Luckily, I was sharper than that, blinked confusedly and said with false sweetness, "I'm sorry, my lady, I haven't caught that. Your language still eludes me."

She chuckled falsely, and said, the translator, now switched on again - I could see it from her mouth movements, she had turned it off deliberately, and had not actually talked Low Gothic with me, that I was sure of, "Ah yes, I do slip sometimes. Never mind that, Temira. Do bring me something soothing and sweet, I need to focus my mind."

Again I jumped at the mention of my name, afraid that I had dropped it somewhere that would bring me punishment, but then immediately was reminded that I had said it 'on camera', so to speak.

I knew what to choose for her, it was a wine made from limes, but mixed with cannabinoid extracts, which calmed and focused a Drukhari's mind. She approved, and I went back to my master, to be in his reach if he had need of my services.

As I did, Vect told me, "Do keep the serving disposition like that. You can tend to the Circle later."
I nodded in answer. As I had thought. No touches with them for me on the official side of things. I wondered what he meant with 'later'. Would there be a training session after this?

I observed the Archons and the arena quietly, time and again tending to their needs, and I was surprised that I did not get cut and beaten up this time. Had Vect's strong reaction to Khyrac's folly shaken them so or were they just more cautios, considering the circumstances?

The spectacle before the main event was quite something. Wyches, Lhamaeans, and Haemonculi entertained the coterie of Archons, who did their best to fake indifference. However, the tension in the room was palpable.

I could not help but have a particularly close eye on Malys. Like many others, she was seething below the surface, but I knew that Malys was utterly sharp and spiteful enough to fight down her anger and use it as a weapon.

She is scheming.

Yes, yes she was. The breathless, yet commanding whisper in my head surely was right.

I observed things that worried me. She talked to the serving slaves time and again, casually as it seemed, or to bark orders at them when I was currently occupied. I could not hear what she said, but I saw that she was whispering things to them when she drew them close to hurt them, and I wondered what it was, especially because when she was done, the hate-filled stares of the slaves wandered towards me time and again. Clearly, she was scheming, and I was unsure to what end. However, I believed that I was her target. Whatever Vyras had believed me to be, it apparently scared her too, so much that she was acting against me, even on such a dangerous occasion, with Vect breathing down her neck.

Eventually, she turned around, staring the Overlord fearlessly in the eye, and remarked with an arm movement that encompassed the arena, "You spoil us, Overlord. I wonder why."

Vect smiled indulgently, again not reacting to the sting in her words in the slightest, and calmly replied, "It is an age of plenty, as I foretold. Should my people not partake in it?"

Damn, he was really out for dissing his Archons and underlining his superiority today. It was nasty and yet magnificent to watch. I enjoyed seeing it, none could touch the epicness that was Asdrubael Vect.

"I would go into more detail, but the truly savoury part of this whole event is about to begin," Vect added smilingly and gestured towards the arena.

There was nothing more Malys could say, so she had to be content with silently watching what happened next.

Because now Vyras entered the arena. He was less of a picture of misery compared to when I had seen him the last time. His wounds had been patched up, but he still looked like he had aged millennia in a short time. He surely was hungering for soul energy, that much was evident.

However, what still surprised and impressed me, was that Vyras held his head high and marched proudly into the arena, as if he was clad in his finest armour - yet he wore nothing but his skin, and his two chain-whips.

Immediately, he mockingly shouted, "What's this? I don't even get the Crucibael to die in?!"

Vect got up, chuckled malevolently, and calmly replied, "Pachu'a, why would I waste such an exclusive venue as the Crucibael on you, when you never were much of a warrior?"

Vyras spat in the blood-stained sand. "Tell me, what if I don't fight to further your petty spectacle?"

"I think we both know that you are too prideful an individual to die so cheaply. Also, I think you understand if you defy my will further, the price you will have to pay will be even steeper. Even though meeting She Who Thirsts surely is the most dire punishment, do you really want to test out my creativity if you spoil my delight in your demise?" Vect coldly threatened the disgraced Archon.

The Overlord was destroying Vyras, that much was clear. His eloquence, aplomb and magnificence shone like a beacon of darkness around him and I understood in this moment why he was also called the Dark Lord of Commorragh. I was so proud to be his best slave, especially after all this time.

Vyras seemed to realise that his defiance would bring him nothing but suffering, so he sighed deeply, grabbed his whips tighter and declared, "Fine. Bring it on, you tyrannical bastard!"

And on it was brought. By the wave of Vect's hand, Vyras's first opponents were released into the arena.

I was delighted to be able to follow the fight this time. My upgraded senses certainly were interesting for me.

I had seen Vyras fight before, but he had been too fast for me to precisely realise what was going on.

Not anymore.

The weapons he was using required a lot of skill and foresight, as double chain whips were anything but easy to use. They certainly fitted his genius. To see how he wove them like a deadly damage shield was mind-blowing. Even though he barely wore nothing but his skin, he knew how to protect himself with his weapons.

Unsurprisingly, the rounds he went through were relentless. After all, this was an execution.

First, I saw creatures I had faced myself. However, now I could completely fathom what they looked like. It was the utheraptorian creatures I had barely escaped from in the very beginning of the Carnival. They were even more horrifying than what little I had been able to discern back then. They coordinated their efforts to take Vyras down, and he was fighting three of them at once. The battle was a grinding toing and froing, with the monstrosities coordinating their efforts to bring the former Archon down, and him punishing their efforts with his terrible whips. Even though they paid a steep price for their efforts, they managed to hack and claw at Vyras a little - to his demise, they were not advanced enough for him to draw from their suffering. The lightning speed of the late Archon prevailed - at a price.

When he had slain his three foes, he panted, fangs bared, gathering strength, bellowing up into the ranks, "That's the best you can do, Vect? Mindless beasts?"

However, the Overlord was unshaken by the insult. "Come now, Pachu'a, you know very well why I chose those adversaries for you. We do not want you to feed off their suffering. Let us see how far you can go without that benefit."

However, as I knew, Vyras was able to draw strength from his own pain - something he was clearly feeling, judging by the deep claw marks all over his body. Inevitably, this would prolong his suffering, no doubt about it. Surely, Vect was calculating for that too.

Of course, the next round was meaner. Contained by the force field of the arena, Vyras had to face flying creatures. Some kind of Tyranid, if I was not mistaken. He had a hard time fending off the beasts, and his grunts and eventual screams of pain echoed through the hall, as they managed time and again to dodge his whip lashes and tear his skin asunder. However, this was also where I saw that Vect's jab at Vyras's battle prowess had not been empty. I was unsure whether it was his mounting exhaustion or not, but he missed quite some hits that should have landed. It certainly would too be noticed by the much more battle-seasoned Archons.

I noticed something strange. I knew I should be shaken by the display, but I was not. His pain did no longer touch me. It was what it was. It had to happen. He had brought this upon himself. Defying, no, betraying the Overlord brought exactly this upon yourself.

I looked around, and found that the other slaves were shaken by it. Clearly, they had not understood the fundamentals of the Dark City: kill or be killed.

Impossibly, Vyras survived this round too - barely. His skin was barely conceivable, torn asunder, and he was bleeding heavily. Clearly, his strength was waning, because this time, he had no sharp-tongued words for Vect. Probably he was aware that he was close to dying. It seemed like a trifling fate - but maybe that was the ultimate humiliation, the final straw in the Overlord's plan - to make the death of such a major traitor such a pointless footnote.

The next round of combat contained burrowers, young Ossedex if I was correct. Terrible, stone-guarded beasts that were ripping their prey apart with massive mandibles.

The chain whips were no match for the granite hide of those beasts.

With a horrible, wet, squelching noise, accompanied, by blood-curdling death cries, Vyras's life perished in the execution arena, leaving just a smear of blood and flesh on the white sands.

Again, I was not shaken.

One of the slaves emptied their stomach. I had them removed. Unfit for this echelon, apparently.

I turned to pick up my duties, now that business was concluded, but I was halted in my step as I heard a surprised murmur go through the ranks of the Archons - and turned around to look.

I was surprised too.

In came Vyras again, obviously shaken, eyes wide, disbelief written on his face. By all accounts, he should have died, for soul relocation was an art only the Haemonculi understood.

He was not alone. He was flanked by two Haemonculi no less, and what a pair it was! To his right, there was Urien Rakarth, in all his terrible glory, and to his left, I could identify Vlokarion, face hidden mostly by a black mask, just his eyes shining in all their malicious gleefulness. Some wracks followed suit, bringing in a human, limp, lifeless body, which looked like a puppet.

Vect, with a terrible smile on his features, got up once more, and announced, while he was pacing to the front row, "So, you see, Pachu'a, your fate is not something common. It would be foolish to waste your willpower on such a crude death. No, there is something far more interesting I want you to go through. The Master Haemonculus and I have worked on a project we have long waited for a suitable subject for. As it will be a mind- and body-breaking experience and the process has to be refined, your toughness will suit it well. You wanted to feel special? You will."

I could not help but have a shiver run down my spine. When my master was in such high spirits, it meant something truly vile for the one he was mocking.

"Master Haemonculus, if you were so kind as to explain the level of complexity of the process," Vect demanded.

It was obvious that Rakarth bathed in the limelight, and that he loved flaunting his - probably newest - work. "With pleasure, Overlord," he chirped, "What you see, Archons, are two bodies already set with a complicated arrangement of elixirs and psy-transference crystals, to prepare them for what is to come. As you well know, the art of essence transference is something the Haemonculi have long since mastered, but so far, the process was limited within one kind of species." Rakarth made a dramatic pause. Eyes flashing with malice, and using the deepest tones of his voice, he dismally added, "Not anymore."

An unsettled murmur ran through the ranks of the Archons, Vyras's eyes widened, and mine did too. I shot a look at my master, and I froze with utter terror as I saw that his malicious grin was slowly widening.

I had never thought that I would see this before my very eyes, but this was the moment Vyras broke. He started to visibly tremble, he fell to his knees and pleaded, "No… no… please… just kill me… I'd rather take my chances with She Who Thirsts than live like this!" His panicked breaths carried terrified whimpers.

Oh, Vect loved this. I was sure he was absorbing Vyras's open terror like a dried-up sponge. He chuckled cruelly and replied, "Too little, too late, Pachu'a. You know, you could have spared yourself this fate if you just had been a little more cooperative." It was unclear whether this was a lie or not.

Vyras struggled against Rakarth's grip, who had readied a syringe with a blue liquid in it, but it was pointless. The Master Haemonculus simply was way too strong for any resistance. Quickly, he injected the fluid into the hapless and quivering Vyras, who immediately curled up, dropped to the floor and started screaming, writhing in unspeakable agony.

I swallowed. This was the mild part of it all.

Vlokarion did something similar with the human shell.

A feeling of unspeakable dread rose in me.

Vyras continued screaming out of his skull until he suddenly… stopped. It was the second his eyes grew dim and his body grew limp…

…and the human body awoke, pure terror in its eyes.

It was precisely how Rakarth had said: Vyras's soul had been transferred into the human shell.

"No… NO!" the non-human screamed. He tried to move, but broke off with a howl of pain, as he immediately overstretched a muscle that was too weak for his mind to control properly, and he fell ungainly on his face.

Vect, who had not moved from his spot in the very first row, gloated, "Oh yes, Pachu'a. Considering the foolishness of your plans, I believe this to be the perfect punishment." The Overlord turned around, clearly bathing in his own, horrible, glory.

I looked around and had to find with horror that not even the most seasoned Archons of Commorragh could hide the dread of what they just had witnessed. Vect took his time, savouring the horror of his most powerful underlings, while the screaming, hate-spitting and babbling Vyars in a human body got dragged away.

When the heavy door of the arena had snapped shut and everything was quiet again, the Overlord spoke, "Now, I think this was a valuable lesson for all of you. If you think that you can ever reach my echelon of creativity when it comes down to punishing those that have wronged me, you might want to think again. This is happening. And the next one of you that dares to defy me, will share his fate." Vect chuckled, almost glowing with malicious glee, clearly bathing in the fear of his Archons. "Now, children, go, flee. Think about your places in my designs, and be grateful that you are where you are," he announced, then taking a deep, relished breath, "My Circle stays, though. I have tasted despair, and I feel like battling."

It was clear that the part that was allowed to leave did so happily and quickly, and those that had to stay were very tense about it.

I swallowed. Service in the ranks of the Circle would now be devastating, to put it mildly.

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