A/N : Well, this is getting posted two days later than I had hoped for. You see, there's this little addiction I've got called "Final Fantasy XI". Granted, I'm nowhere near as addicted to it as my husband, but it does rather distract me from working on my stories - not like I don't have nearly 10 chapters of this story done that I haven't posted yet, but still! I'm still going to be updating once every two weeks, though, so stay alert! Do enjoy the chapter - India was one of my hardest sections to write, but it should be well-done. Again, anyone that knows these cultures better than I, please inform me of any problems you see and they shall be rectified ASAP!

Oh, and BTW, Voldemort and Lena in this chapter (and most of the following ones as well) are now right around thirty years of age.

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Chapter #16 – The Mark

Shen had given them directions to a Wizarding community between the Nepalese border and the Ganges River in India. They had flown there on their recently acquired flying carpet, which they had gotten to replace their aging brooms. Voldemort had been very happy with getting rid of the brooms, for he did not like that mode of travel very much, preferring Apparition whenever possible. The fact that brooms were not a common item in Asia, though, was another reason they had gotten a carpet instead. It was a much more comfortable journey than the ones they had made at the beginning of their travels.

When they got to the city they had been given directions to, they found an inn and got a room. Now it was up to Tom to find out which of those gurus that had offered to teach him further could actually accept him on such short notice. Each of them had a group of students that he taught but the Dark wizard did not know how many each was willing to take on at once – he did not even know exactly how many each of them had at the moment. He could only hope that one of them would allow him in, else he may have to give up on India for the time being, which he did not like the thought of doing. He had heard so many good things about India and wanted to learn more.

One of his possible teachers, Girish, the one Voldemort really wanted to study under, was unable to take any more students (he had a limit of ten) and it would be over a year before he could take a new student. Another of his hopeful teachers, Loknoth, told him that if he could wait five months, he would be able to accept him. Tom, however, did not want to wait even that long. He wanted to get a teacher as quickly as possible. It would be safer that way. His only hope remained in Yama, a once highly respected and feared Dark wizard. In recent months, however, that had waned and Voldemort did not completely like the idea of becoming Yama's pupil. He had heard the Indian wizard was having quite a deal of trouble with another wizard called Lord Markandeya, someone Tom considered quite akin to Dumbledore in disposition.

In the end, though, Yama accepted to interview him for becoming a pupil of his and so Voldemort made the preparation to head south to the Western Ghats, where his new teacher's citadel was. He would be one of fourteen students. There were younger students than he and older. All were male, though there were several women that stayed in the citadel with them, though mainly as servants.

Samdhya Kota (Yama's citadel) was located not far northwest of the Muggle city of Belgaum. While to Muggles the stone fortress looked like a dangerous wall of granite, it was actually a very large structure of cut granite that was fitted to the curves of the mountain it was built on. It looked rather like a walled city or fortress from Europe. As they had been informed by Yama not to fly up to the entrance (the guards were a bit jumpy of late due to attempts by Markandeya to get into the citadel) they had to climb the stairs that led up the mountainside. Voldemort carried their rolled up flying carpet under his arm while Lena carried the single, feather-light trunk all their things were stored in. The stairs led directly to the main entrance that was clearly Mogul influenced with its graceful arch that ended in a slight point at the top. They could not see too much beyond the high wall that surrounded the complex except for a single tall building that was near the wall and that had lights shining in the windows. It looked rather inviting to both of them in the quickly gathering darkness.

Sentries were watching their approach from the battlements. There were two guards at the doors who had drawn their wands before Voldemort and Lena had even topped the stairs. They paused for a moment when they saw this but the Dark wizard went ahead (Lena stayed where she was a moment longer before following him). Visitors at this time of day – an hour after sunset – were surely not a common sight so the guards did have a right to feel somewhat apprehensive.

"I am here to see your master." Tom was very glad most of India spoke English, as he had not learned much Hindi and there was no telling what dialect (or other various language) might be used.

Both the guards looked rather unimpressed with this statement and stared at the tall, pale, and thin wizard. The one closest to them spoke. "For what purposes?"

"He has said he will interview me about becoming one of his pupils," the British wizard answered firmly, keeping an eye on their wands.

"Then state your name, for we know who it is that's supposed to be coming here."

Looking up, looked into the brown eyes of the guard that was questioning him with his red ones, which made the man gulp, apparently somewhat shocked or scared. "I am known as Voldemort."

The two guards at the door glanced at each other, visibly sighed, then put their wands away. The one that had spoken turned to the door. "Follow me, then."

As they passed through the doors, Lena grabbed her master's arm. She was not feeling very comfortable at the moment. She rather felt they were walking into some sort of trap. "Master…"

"Quiet," he hissed.

The Dark wizard knew what was on her mind, she had been talking about it since the letter had returned from Yama only two days before. She did not like coming to Yama's citadel. He did not doubt her fears over it, for he was having a few thoughts against it, too. He had even told the innkeeper that he might be returning. But they were here, now, and there was not really a chance to back out of it easily. And he was interested in finding out what Yama could teach him that he did not already know. It was the hunger for knowledge and power that made him walk into the dark courtyard beyond the wall.

They entered a large open space that was so dark they could only make out the black shapes that rose around the edges of the courtyard. Though they seemed to be part of the mountain, Voldemort was sure they were buildings of some sort and most likely residences or places of study, though none of them were lit. The three of them were following a stone path, which the guard must have known well, for he did not need any light to see it. The building they were headed for was the only one lit within the citadel's walls – the one they had seen from outside the wall. As they got closer, they could hear much talking coming from within.

The guard entered the building but stopped just inside the doorway. The talking stopped as well. Voldemort could tell everyone was curious as to why he was there. Lena was still clinging to the sleeve of his robe. He shook her off and whispered for her to be calm. Someone from deeper in the hall called the man forward and all three of them began walking to the far side of the room.

When they entered, Tom instantly felt rather drab in his rather plain black robes. The room was lavishly decorated with golden trimming and intricate mosaics of bright colors. Golden oil lamps hung from the ceiling, burning brightly and making the room shimmer slightly. There were about a dozen men sitting around on large blue pillows, each having at least one woman tending to him. The men were all dressed in rather rich robes of various colors. The women were dressed in traditional Indian sari, which were all blue and gold. They only looked at the two for a moment before going back to their merrymaking.

At the head of the room sat two men, both appeared to be in their sixties. One was seated slightly off to the side of the other, wearing green and beige robes with long black hair and many wrinkles. The man seated at the center of the room (who Voldemort suspected could only be Yama) was dressed in blue and gold robes with a blue turban on his head and was the only one of the people in the room wearing a smile, which erased some of his own wrinkles but enhanced others.

The guard bowed. "Lord Yama, this man…"

"Yes yes." The turbaned man waved his hand at the guard, not needing the explanation. "Go back to your post."

The man that had lead them there bowed again then turned and left, though not before giving the new arrivals quite a disapproving glare.

Yama was nearly beaming at the wizard that had just arrived. "So, you're the one that is asking to be my pupil."

"Yes, I am Voldemort."

"As I have said before, you seem like you would be a promising student and now that I see you, I feel that my assumptions my have been correct." There was a strange gleam that arose in his eyes as his smile broadened. "From what I understand, you are already knowledgeable in much magic, but I think I'll be able to expand your knowledge, if you agree to become my student, that is."

"But he's antaraprabhava," the man on the guru's left said lazily. He was looking at the British wizard with great distaste.

This statement got the attention of all the other students in the hall. They all turned their eyes to Voldemort. A few murmurs were passing between the wizards behind him which made him rather uncomfortable. Though he, Tom, did not know what "antaraprabhava" meant, he was sure that it was not something that was favorable for him - possibly even something that could be dangerous for him in this place. He glared at the old wizard that had said that with just as much distaste as he was showing him.

"He's not worthy to be your pupil, master." The man looked to the guru, his speech haughty. "He should be made to leave."

The Dark wizard was turning hot with rage and his red eyes now flashed dangerously at the wizard that had dared to insult him. Lena, knowing these signs, took his arm, hoping to calm him, but it did not work. She quickly drew her hand back to keep from having him direct his anger upon her, as he had done that once or twice in China when he was frustrated over various things. But the next comment made would not allow her to remain quiet as she wished to do.

"Now, the woman accompanying him," the insulting wizard smiled at her pleasantly, "she would be worthy of your wisdom, if she were a man, that is."

Lena turned red – in rage and a bit in embarrassment - and scowled at the wizard. "Even if I were a man, I would not study under him. I am not here to be taught, nor do I plan to enter unto anyone's tutelage. I learn on my own. It is only my master that desires to learn from you, Guru Yama."

The teacher raised his eyebrow at her then turned to the man at his side. "Sanat, you will hold you tongue. Though his blood may not be pure, he is surely more knowledged than you."

Voldemort was still angered, more now than before. So that was what the term had meant, that he was not a pureblood. He hissed slightly, eyes narrowed. If there was anything he could not stand, it was people reminding him of who his father was. If he were not there to be taught, he would kill the entire roomful of these wizards. His hand even twitched, wishing to grab his wand so he could make these idiots understand what it would mean to remind him of his parentage.

"But, Master Yama…"

"The purest lotus blooms in the most putrid swamp." At these words even the few remaining murmurs from the students in the hall faded. The guru looked around at his students then to the man at his side before looking back at the wizard in front of him. "Voldemort, I think that I will accept you as my student if you are still interested. And I hope that you will learn much as you study under me. We will talk a bit more in private shortly." He looked towards one of the women attending one of his other pupils. "Rajni, take Voldemort and his lady to the room that is prepared for them."

The woman that was called for silently stood and swept them from that building. Once they were in the dark courtyard, she said a spell and a ball of light appeared in her cupped hands. Lena oooh'ed at the enchantment and said she wanted to learn that spell. They were led across the courtyard to one of the dark buildings then taken inside. The torches automatically burst into flame as they approached them. They were led up a flight of stairs that wound up to the second floor. The last door on the right was the room Rajni showed them into.

"This shall be your chambers while you are studying under Yama. I am sure that he will be up here shortly to seal the contract with you for your studying with him. Do make yourselves comfortable." And with that she bowed slightly to them and left.

Lena was looking around. It was a rather simple room. The walls were a rather plain pale blue that was only broken by the various geometric designs that hung on them. The building itself was made from granite and wood though you could hardly tell that from inside. There was a censer burning near the green draped bed that filled the room with the smell of sandalwood. Sheer curtains covered the open window and stirred in the slight evening breeze that was coming into the room. There were several mahogany settees with many variously shaped green or blue pillows on them. Two chests sat on either side of the largest settee and were decorated with golden hinges and metalwork.

With a slight sigh, feeling much better now than she had when they had first arrived, she wandered over to the arch window and looked out over the dark courtyard, seeing the woman that had brought them to their room returning to the hall where the others were. She had no idea, though, that Tom, who still stood in the doorway, was eyeing her rather maliciously, still fuming over what had been said about his unworthiness to be there.

"I despise you at times, Lena," he said coldly to her, which made her instantly turn to him with wide eyes.

The witch shook her head slightly, not understanding why he had said this. She had no idea what she had done wrong, but she could not hid her mild fear of his words. "Master, what do…"

"You, with your pure blood…" His eyes flashed dangerously, his voice nearly a hiss and she cowered back slightly in fear. "I mean, you are so much better than I, after all. Aren't you?"

If the wall had not been directly behind her already, she would have backed up some with this insinuation. She shook her head again, though this time in disbelief. "No, Master, I'm not better than you. I've never thought that. And I don't mean to make you feel however I have made you feel, my lord, whether you are mad or disgusted or annoyed at me."

Voldemort took a deep breath and actually calmed himself. He did not need to be growing angry with her. She was not the one that was to blame. Neither of them could help what their parentage had been. Lena could not make things any different than they had always been. And though there were those that thought him undeserving to be among purebloods, she had never accused him of being unworthy of anything just because he was a half-blood.

"It isn't you." He hung his head down and rubbed his face with his hands. He was silent for a moment. He could feel the beginnings of a headache coming. "I am still failing at the thing I have most wanted to achieve."

The witch watched him rather worriedly, curious as to what he meant. "What would that be, my lord?"

"To escape my impurity." He walked to the window and looked down on the mountainous landscape. There were a few lights from a far off Muggle town visible near the horizon. He scowled. "I have ignored it so long, it seemed to have gone away, but, tonight…"

"To me, Master, you are as pureblooded as Darcy or Aurius or I or any other pureblood we've ever known. You cannot help your own parentage. You are pureblooded in your heart and mind, my lord, and so you are a pureblood." She smiled reassuringly at him when he turned to her. "Do not let those fools down there tell you that you are not worthy to be taught by this guru. You've been taught by better already, surely. If anything, you're more worthy than they, for you are doing more than they ever will. You are greater than they are…and more powerful."

A smirk appeared on Tom's face then he turned back to look out the window. "You do know how to flatter me."

Lena giggled slightly. "If I flatter you, it is with the truth, my lord."

It was about an hour later when Yama and another wizard in green robes came to the room to see Voldemort. He immediately apologized for Sanat's behavior and explained that the wizard was his advisor (of sorts) and had an uncanny ability to sense what sort of blood a wizard had. Sanat did not approve at all of Mudbloods and halfbloods seeking out training from real wizards, and Yama said that he agreed with it, but Tom was British and the "rules" with wizards outside of India were different than what they followed in their own nation. Yama told him, as he handed over the contract to be signed, that he was sure that Voldemort was more learned than most of the wizards he knew personally.

The Dark wizard had known about the contract that he had to sign in order to study under this guru, but he had not been told what it would entail. He had certainly hoped that it would not be anything too demanding of him, though, especially not any terms such as "to protect your teacher with your life". If that were the case, he would be Disapparating immediately, but there were no such terms to studying with him. It was only a five-year contract to simply state he was something like a servant of Yama's as long as he was a student and gave him do's and don'ts about living in the citadel and various other things. There were, of course, the usual hexes and curses that he knew accompanied most contracts and other oaths. The only thing that bothered him was the mentioning of a "marking" in the contract, which had not been mentioned to him before.

"It is a simple thing, really." Yama said when his new student asked. "Just a tattoo, you could say, on the wrist."

Tom raised his eyebrow upon hearing this. "What sort of tattoo?"

"It is a blue eight-pointed star." Yama motioned for the man that had accompanied him to show his right wrist, the man pulled up his long sleeve some and revealed the gold outlined blue mark there that was less than an inch across. "The initial marking stings some but it fades after only an hour or so."

Voldemort did not quite like the thought of getting this done, especially if it were permanent. "Can it be removed?"

"Of course, though it requires quite complex spells," Yama said, apparently trying to make sound nearly impossible to do.

This, however, did not perturb the Dark wizard. "Certainly no more complex than I have done before."

"Then, if you are content with these terms, do sign," the Indian wizard said with a broad smile, handing over a quill.

The quill the wizard handed him was a long, thin black one with a very sharp point. Voldemort knew what it was and cringed slightly. He had used those types of quills before when other "contracts" had been signed, but he had not known he would have to sign this simple thing in his own blood. He decided there would be no point in arguing, it was only his name, after all, not his soul. He took up the quill and signed his name in his own crimson blood. The words "Lord Voldemort" were magically etched on the back of his hand as he had signed and he hissed slightly at the momentary sting. Before he handed the quill back, the cuts had healed over.

"Good! Now…" He looked at the green clad wizard that had come with him. "If you would, Salmalin."

It only took a moment, but it was a more painful moment than when he had signed his name. The wizard had clasped his hand around Tom's wrist with his own palm against the Dark wizard's wrist then Salmalin had closed his eyes momentarily in concentration. When he removed his hand from Voldemort's wrist there was a bright gold and blue mark there in the shape of an eight-pointed star. It still stung a bit, but he hoped Yama had been right about that fading after about an hour. It was quite an annoying feeling.

And seeming extremely pleased, Yama nodded. "I expect you to join the other pupils in the hall in the morning."

And with that, Yama and Salmalin left the room and headed back to the Sitting Hall where the other students were surely still gathered. Voldemort and Lena went about getting settled some before they turned in for the night. Tomorrow would surely prove to be tiring with his first exposure to Hindu magic.

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To my reviewers -

Liv - I was wondering where you had gotten off to. Did you ever get around to reading the chapters? You never came back to review me if you did. Moan all you want to about Lena - I honestly hate her now myself. ::sigh:: But the next chapter you will surely like - I know that Mayhem El-Diablo did when she read it.

insert name here - the "New World", yes, I see as having its own brand of magic - I also think that Voldemort would have a similar "Nazi" look at the natives of the Americas (Hitler and his followers believed African descended and Native American Indians were different species - not really human - and called the Amerindians "Mudmen" - all too reminiscent of "Mudblood", don't you think?) On a sort of side note, I also think that there's not that many pureblooded witches and wizards that came to the Americas - thinking that it would "besmirch" them if they did, thinking it would be nice if all the Mudbloods went over there and left them in peace. And I don't think that Voldemort, even in all his cruelties, would sink so "low" as to bathe in blood and become a cannibal (though as an anthropologist I understand the reasons behind such beliefs/practices, they just have their place in their respective {most would probably say "more tribal"} societies and not much in the Western societies, where it's seen as utterly appalling - no slander intended in that statement, so please don't think I'm being a biased). Ghosts I really don't think harp on anything much about "wizard immortality". It's just something of a "final magic" that they do to keep their souls from crossing over. Though I could honestly see Voldemort becoming a ghost, as much as he fears death (which would be a somewhat interesting twist, but if Harry kills him with the Killing Curse, I say that that curse doesn't allow for ghosts to come of it). And about the workings of Tom's mind - he's a male! Don't ask me to figure out how their minds work! I just know that he doesn't trust her - though, the fact that he knows Lena to tell her father exacting details of what they're doing/where they are does make him wonder (and you know he's probably a really paranoid sort of wizard).