III. Creature of Darkness

The boy was gone from Créon's awareness.

All the same, he would come back.

Still, Créon had to admit to himself that this changed things. The boy was young and inexperienced, but he was strong, very strong. Much stronger than he had at first assumed. He would have preferred to know his exact location and condition. This way, they knew that he was going to turn up again eventually and spring the trap prepared for him, but until he sprang it, they would have to wait blindly. The boy's stealth was remarkable.

He could only hope that they had not already come too late for it all to go smoothly. Maybe there would have to be a change of plans to make the boy submit in the necessary way. But submit the boy would, whatever it took. Submit he would. There was no doubt of it.

Despite Niobe's opinion, the loss of Ferox and Atrox did not grieve Créon much. He had expected the boy to put up a struggle, and he had expected a similar degree of resourcefulness. After all, he knew the boy. He remembered him.

And he knew his weaknesses. His recklessness, his pride, his habit of spending his nights in women's arms, rather than contemplating what was truly important, his consuming passions blinding his judgement… For someone so strong, the boy was easy prey.

He would be trying to get a woman to keep him company currently, no doubt of it. Though it seemed that he had less luck with his favourite occupation recently, he would not give up. Not that one. That one would try until he succeeded.

Watching the arrival of yet another patrol from upstairs, Créon frowned. Himself he scorned the joys of the flesh. Those were lowly human occupations, not truly worthy of someone belonging to a better kind.

A lesson the boy would yet have to learn, but at first it would be best to offer him a toy, simply to exert complete control over him. The singer would be right; she had about the figure the boy would appreciate, and she had a connection to the boy's current background – and she was so very easy to read. Surely the boy would soon start confiding in her, seeking comfort with her, as well as pleasure… and Créon would learn everything. Everything. There was nothing the boy would be able to hide anymore, and he would not even realize it until it was too late.

Créon smiled.

Adhemar was receiving reports and giving out new orders, the light of the braziers casting strong, flickering shadows around the gauges on his face. How good that the boy had not managed to get at Adhemar this afternoon; Adhemar was too useful an underling to lose. And he had always been. A long time ago, the Dragon-tamer had been useful just as well.

And there could something be made of his and the boy's enmity. That petty human girl would be crucial, of course, but with her, everything would be easy. The boy could not be allowed to have her, of course, yet she would be kept close, close enough for him to see her often enough, yet just out of his reach, and always taken away when he thought he had her at last. It would help breaking him, that and any harm befalling the girl.

And Niobe could be employed, of course, yet with care. Niobe had ambitions of her own, especially as far as the boy was concerned. She had always had those. Trusting Niobe might well disrupt all his plans.

His plans. Their time was ripe now. Soon.

The shadows flickered.

What had been lost once could be regained easily another time. And the advantage was that one would not make the same mistakes made before.

The shadows shifted.

It was never too late for victory. What had been begun at the dawn of time could be brought to an end millennia later, and in the end it would not matter. Time meant nothing to the reign of darkness.

The shadows trembled.

From darkness the world had come, and into darkness it would return. For in the end, all circles closed.

The shadows danced.

And what the Herald of Fate had seen and foretold could not be undone.

Oh, how the shadows danced!