"Master Violet wishes to speak with you, Takkit."
The purple-eyed Irken looked halfheartedly up at the monstrosity that had come to beckon her to her lord's quarters. The beast was not of Takkit's species, although she was rather familiar with its looks. It was a child of Err'Bakam; Violet's chosen form of magic, more commonly known as "black magic". It was an incantation given a shape of its own. It was hideous, and Takkit was sick of looking at it and its kind. They were like moving mounds of bile, squelching along the floor with every step that they took. Their stench was almost unbearable, although Takkit no longer complained about that. The scars on her hand were enough of a warning.
Takkit sighed. "Where is he?" she growled at the Erbak. The stupid thing looked confused, as if it hadn't known that it would be asked such a question. Takkit's short temper quickly effused, and she glared at Violet's creation, wondering not for the first time if it was capable of feeling pain of any kind. "Where is Master Violet?! I need to know where he is before I can go to him!"
A bubble sprouted on the Erbak's head, as if to show that it was thinking. The bubble burst, and Takkit looked upon the beast with loathing in her dark eyes. "Master Violet is in his bedchamber."
Shaking with anger, Takkit rose from the chair she was sitting in, glaring at the beast. "Leave," she commanded. "I can find my own way."
The Erbak obeyed.
Stupid, worthless things, Takkit thought, trudging out of her room and making her way along the dark hallways of Violet's palace. She had walked through them hundreds of times before, so she was familiar with everything that she passed. No torch, no painting was a stranger to her. But none of them were very welcoming, either. Nothing about Noom'ehtfo'Sreat was very welcoming at all to Takkit, save her own bedchamber.
The brim of her hat flopped in her face, and she batted at it with frustrated hands. She folded her arms, trying not to think about why she was being summoned to her master's bedchamber. She knew it well, though, and it mocked her for that reason.
Violet was going to kill Takkit for her failure, for all that she knew.
Takkit reached the proper room, touching the doorknob with a bit of apprehension. Quickly running over her thoughts, she came to the conclusion that running away now would only bring her more pain than she was already going to get. So she sighed, pulled open the door, and let herself in.
The room was dark, as was most of Violet's palace, dimly lit even though there were blazing torches set in all of the walls. The black bricks of the walls and the dark tiles of the floor did not reflect the light well. Takkit stepped inside cautiously; she had only been into her master's bedchamber once before, and she could remember that time very well, along with the pain that it had brought. But she could not remember how the room had looked back then. Possibly it had looked very much the same as it did now.
She wandered over to a small desk and sat in the chair, knowing how Violet preferred to look down upon those that he was speaking to (which would have been the case even if Takkit were standing up, for Violet was very tall, indeed). Takkit glanced at the table, taking note of all of the books that were cast messily about on the tiny surface area. If he puts any more books on this desk, it will surely collapse in on itself, she thought dully. One rather thick book, however, caught her eye, and the Irken female picked it up, flipping it open to the first page in slight interest. The title of the book was written on the top of the page:
Probing the Membrane of Science
By Alexander Membrane
That loony inventor, Takkit thought, smirking. She remembered him from A Long Time Ago; he had been nice to her and sold her the hologram device that she still used to make Mimus's disguise. Despite the fact that she liked to think about her old friend, Takkit set the book back down in its proper place, knowing that Violet would grow even angrier with her if he caught her looking at his books. For all Takkit knew, that book held the secret of life in it. It's better not to look at things that you don't understand; that was Takkit's second rule. Kill first, ask questions later; that was her first.
She sighed and leaned against the table, clutching her aching head. Where was Violet? He was never late when he called Takkit in for something serious like this. Unless he was—
"Already here?" came a toneless, amused voice from behind Takkit. The Irken female shuddered; it frightened her sometimes, the extent of her lord's powers. "Yes, Takkit. I'm already here. I've been here the whole time, in fact."
"Begging forgiveness, my lord," Takkit murmured, feeling cold hands resting on her shoulders. She held back a wince; she hated to be touched because it reminded her of Zimbrit, and Violet knew that well. He thought that it showed a weakness in the female. So he touched her whenever he had the opportunity, as if trying to cure her of her phobia by giving her an overdose of it. "I was simply—"
"Trying to amuse yourself while you were waiting for me," Violet finished, his thin fingers stroking Takkit's neck gently. Takkit struggled to think pleasant thoughts. "I know, Takkit. Now tell me…how did your recent venture go? You were gone for nearly a week, although I trust it was not very successful, judging from your weakened expression and tense shoulders and…overall lack of our dear friend, Ganazala."
"Please, Lord, forgive me, for I did my best," Takkit mumbled, loosening her muscles. "Ganazala was simply—"
"Faster than you," the Witch hissed, squeezing Takkit's arms. Takkit's temper was short, but Violet's temper was even shorter. "She always is, Takkit. You never catch her in time, because you like to play with your food. When you're finally at her heels, that damnable hellion Zimbrit always shows up to save the day; that I know from experience. I also know from experience that you're fearing what I have in store for you as punishment for your failure, even though you don't yet know what it is."
Takkit shivered, hating herself for not expecting something like this. "With respect, Sir... your punishments are made to be feared."
"Yes, dear lady," Violet replied, releasing his henchwoman's shoulders and walking slowly around into her field of vision. "In that sense, you understand what I've been trying to teach you over these long years of servitude. The point is to always succeed! That way, you won't have to fear these punishments of mine! Your physical blows are too weak. You need to work on that. I told you that the last time that you did this, Takkit, and the time before and the time before! I'm sick of all of your failures!"
Takkit closed her eyes and lowered her head into her chest, wishing that she hadn't been born. Wishing that she in her younger days hadn't been so foolish. Her small hands clenched and unclenched around her pointed elbows; the old scars ached anew.
"…You're trembling, Takkit, my dear."
Oh, no.
She forced herself to look up into the cold eyes of her master; into the bottomless violet pits that stared forever back at her, unblinking. Air wheezed in and out of his nose, his breathing fast and angry. His long antennae bent down and hung near his shoulders, twitching in frustration. His black robes were drawn tightly about him, though his green hands were visible through the sleeves.
Violet snarled, showing his perfectly white teeth. "Zimbrit should be no match for you, Takkit. I know that, and you know that. He is a foolish creature with next to nothing on his mind…and that is the only reason why I take mercy on you, even now, Takkit. I know that if you would only try harder, you would be able to do great things for both Noom and I. But if you fail me again, my faithful servant, I swear that I will not hesitate to bless you with damnation. Do you understand me?"
Takkit looked away, fearing that tears were close by.
The taller Irken grabbed her face and pulled her over so that their gazes locked again, Violet's eyes burning with rage.
"I said; do you understand me?!"
"Yes, Lord, always, Lord," Takkit choked, struggling against tears. That would only enrage Violet more.
He glared at Takkit, his fingers digging into the lesser being's flesh. Interest slowly seeped from his eyes, and he released his henchwoman, turning around to a swish of his robes. His bald head lowered, sending his piercing gaze to the floor. His hands linked loosely together behind his back. "You've worked for me for almost all of your life, Takkit. I've known you since you were a child. I've been cruel to you, punished you to no end, and sent you on exhausting missions almost every single day. Why is it that you keep coming back to me? Why don't you simply run away when I send you off somewhere? Why don't you go to Anorok or Naelures or Nus, or even back to Kri? I know that you are quite fond of the gambling corner; you go there during your free hour and bet on wrestling matches."
"Because, Sir," Takkit breathed, praying for her life, "you have given me a place to live. Food to eat. A bed to sleep on. You are almost like a father figure to me. In my eyes, I have nothing out there. I don't know how to live on my own. You are all that I know, Sir. You and Noom, and my job."
"Well…maybe you should pick up a book someday and learn about other things," Violet muttered, sounding almost sad for Takkit. "It might help you keep your life for a while longer."
Takkit said nothing. She knew that it would be wrong to do otherwise. Violet was in one of his moods. It was almost always best to say nothing when he was like that; Takkit knew. She touched the scars on her hand, shuddering. They still ached. They always did when her lord was upset. It was like a curse. No, Takkit thought, it is a curse.
Violet sighed, and the female started, her fingers knitting together quickly so as to lessen her master's suspicion. Takkit looked to the floor, wanting to be back in her own room.
"Tell me, Takkit," Violet muttered, "would you like to go…to Simartia?"
His henchwoman blinked, coldness flooding into her eyes. "No," she replied without hesitation. She coughed wetly.
"And why not?" Violet queried, sounding only dimly interested. "You don't believe in the stories that the Angels have told, or in what the marketers from A Long Time Ago have told their children? About the Land Beyond the Veil being a place of eternal bliss and concord?"
"No, Sir. I don't want to go because I don't believe that Irkens belong in places of eternal bliss."
"And why would that be so?"
"Because Irkens cause death, destruction, and are naturally reckless."
"Not very proud of your ancestry, are you, Takkit?"
"No, Sir."
"Have a reason?"
Takkit swallowed, shutting her eyes briefly. "Because it is my choice."
Violet was silent for a moment, thinking, then nodded. "So you would rather believe that your people belong in a dark world rather than in the cities of light that the holy men and women speak of. That is…a sad thing, Takkit. Truly it is."
The female said nothing in response. Her head was lowered, her bones throbbing inside of her skin. Her eyes were cold.
"You wish the blackness upon your love?" Violet asked, his voice very, very quiet.
Takkit coughed wetly again, anger flaring inside of her. Her lord sensed it and looked over his shoulder at his henchwoman, curious. "I wish not to speak of him. It hurts me so," Takkit muttered, a distinct waver in her voice.
Violet sighed sadly, sounding almost disappointed in Takkit. The Irken female wondered dimly if she should tell him about the new addition to Ganazala's group.
"…Go down to the library, dear lady. Read books. Gaze out the window and wish that you were happier," Violet murmured, and though she loathed him with every fiber of her being, Takkit couldn't help but feel a little guilty. "The gods know that I do."
"My lord," Takkit whispered, her frail body still trembling violently. "I apologize if I have angered you—"
"Go to the library, you hell-bound traitor!" Violet roared, sweeping around with his hands held out. Takkit cringed away, expecting the pain of her master's strike…but the taller Irken didn't touch her at all. He flew at her and then stopped, his hands held out like a Zombie's, the palms at least a foot away from Takkit's chest. But the minion felt her ribs bend under the invisible pressure, anyway, and she was forced backwards and into the door. She cried out in pain as her body twisted into an unnatural position.
"Please, Master!" she cried, squeezing her eyes shut. She could feel his hot rage pressing against her bones, trying to break them. He wouldn't care if she died. "There was another one there! Someone else helping Ganazala!"
The pressure lessened.
"He…he was a human! A HUMAN!!"
"A…a human?" Violet breathed, his voice angry and detached. "You're lying. You must be lying."
"I swear to you, Master, I'm not!"
The pressure stopped.
Takkit ran out of the room, gasping for breath, and the door slammed shut behind her.
She clutched at her chest, knowing almost immediately that one or more of her ribs had cracked from the force of Violet's spell. Back in the room, she heard something smashing to the floor, enraged screams following soon after. Her lord was angry again; it would be a wise decision to leave. Takkit trusted her instincts and walked quickly away, fighting back her pained sobs.
Her hands and ribs throbbed dully with every crooked step that she took.