A/N: Okay, I am soooo sorry that I didn't update sooner! I sort of lost my focus and had writers block forever! But now I'm back into the swing of things! Here's the next installment, sorry to keep you waiting.
Chapter Three
The Lady Purifier walked silently in the shadows, cloaked in darkness. Her dress made swishing sounds as she walked across the black floors, her head held high. All were chattering and going about their business unaware of the Lady watching them from her veil of darkness. "It is suspicious for a woman to hide in the shadows, Lady Purifier." A silky, seductive voice whispered from behind her.
Aeon didn't need to turn around to know it was DameVaako, Lord Vaako's snake of a wife. "I can be wherever I please, DameVaako." Aeon replied cooly.
DameVaako huffed aristocratically and stood in front of Aeon, blocking her view. Her brown eyes stared down Aeon hatefully. She knew what was under the façade of a Necromonger aristocrat. Underneath two years of torture and 'purifying', Aeon was still the same Furian she used to be. "Don't take that tone of voice with me, Lady Purifier." DameVaako spat with vehemence. "You may be the wife of the Lord Marshall's right hand, but you are no Necromonger. You may bear the mark," she raised her hand to Aeon's neck and pulled down collar of her dress to reveal the horrid scar of the Necromongers. "But I can see right through you. Do not get in my way, Furian."
Aeon smirked. She had stumbled upon DameVaako's plans to thwart the Lord Marshall the previous day. DameVaako was furious at Aeon's findings, though deep down, Aeon really didn't care about the well being of the man who ruined her life. Aeon brought her cool gaze to DameVaako's fiery glare. "You'd do well to keep your distance from me, Necromonger." She said stonily before walking off to her quarters.
Inside the quiet elaborate room, Aeon gave out a shaky sigh. She despised playing Necromonger aristocrat. But she was in way too deep to back out now. She went to her mirror to make sure she looked presentable. The Lord Marshall would be calling on her any moment now to foresee the future of his campaign.
The woman who glared back at Aeon was the Lady Purifier from head to toe. Her red hair was in a long braid, wrapped around her head and covered in a slender silver crown with faces of old Necromongers and frightening images. Her eyes were a dulled brown, her lids weighted down with black mascara, and her lashes burned off with a Necromonger cosmetic. Her dress was tight fitting, a dark blue that almost looked black, it had a pattern that made it look like snake skin. Her neck was covered with a long collar, but it opened up at the chest to reveal her generous cleavage. A shining metal belt hung off her slim hips and the hem of the dress covered her feet, but a slender slit on the side of the dress went all the way up to her thigh which allowed her to walk. The sleeves were clasping her wrists and her hands were covered by dark gloves. If no one knew her, she could be easily passed off as a loyal member of Necromonger society, but everyone who weren't recent converts knew her origins.
A knock at the door pulled her eyes away from the mirror. A newly converted servant girl bowed before Aeon and kept her eyes cast down. "My Lady Purifier, the Lord Marshall requests your presence right away." She said sheepishly. Aeon grimaced. The Lord Marshall didn't request, he ordered. She gave a slow nod then dismissed the convert. She sighed. 'Another proud race to be broken.' She thought before closing her door.
A/N: You know, I've noticed that I have like insane amounts of hits to this story, but I only have like three reviews. Not that I don't appreciate them, I do, but it would make me so happy and work faster if you reviewed. So just push that little button at the bottom at the bottom of your screen….go on….you know you want to….