Torin Manor wasn't exactly a castle. In fact, it was more a mansion where Tarrence held residence. It was lavish though, and Tarrence was pleased to be back after spending so much time in Dorensae. In all honesty, that castle was too big. Not to mention that his every move was watched by someone, but now he was home, and for the moment in blissful solitude.
After riding most of the day, he had found Torin to be in a bit of a panic; which was expected due to the deaths of Stivin and Brynt. Therefore,
the rest of the day was spent on state affairs, very boring, but a necessity. Now, however, he found himself sitting in his favorite chair in his chambers thinking over the next move he would make. If it was true about murdered Immortals not returning, he had saved himself a great deal of trouble and severly weakened "King" Jareth.

Baz entered the room a few moments later and noticed the smug look upon Tarrence's face. "Glad to be home, my Lord?"

Tarrence smiled. "Oh yes. And not to be under the scrutiny of Didymus."
He was quiet and in thought for a moment. Both he and Baz had Immortal blood on their hands, but he had just thought it was a delaying tactic, not a permanent one. This new theory filled him with a strange giddiness. He would win now. Jareth would have no allies. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Did you know, Baz, that Immortals we have killed will not return?"

Baz had known, had thought Tarrence had known, but instead replied, "No,
my Lord. Surely this is excellent news."

"Yes, it is." He sat back and strummed his fingers on the armrest. He was tired with waiting he realized. It was time to up the ante. He flexed his hands. The blood magic was still strong in him, strong enough for what he wanted to do, but could he do it? Up until this moment he had not killed fully awakened Immortals. And then a truly evil thought crept into his mind. "Baz," he said to the bronze skined man, for he was the person who originally showed him the trick of the blood magic,
"Can I take an Immortal's blood, like I do the humans?"

Baz shifted slightly, imperceptibly to Tarrence, his heart beating a little faster. "The process is the same, my Lord." Now! Now! Was all that Baz could think. The little lord was starting to understand how the game should be played. Why waste such knowledge on the lesser beings when the strongest magic ran through the viens of the Immortals?
He forced himself not to smile and rub his hands in glee, but inside he was ecstatic. "A word of caution, though. It will not be the same."

Tarrence frowned, "I should hope not."

"This is not what I mean." The candlelight flickered and cast strange shadows on Baz's face as he approached closer to Tarrence. "You will be destroying their souls, do you understand?" Tarrence deepened the frown into a scowl, but Baz continued. "They are you, you are all connected, if you do this you will not only be tearing their souls,
but your own. Can you live with that?"

Tarrence was silent. He eyed Baz with a growing distrust. This man before him only ever did what was asked of him, always performed his duties without a word, but right now something was screaming at him that he was a sheep being led to the butcher. But that was absurd. Tarrence was an Immortal, and though he abruptly realized Baz was something else, Tarrence could tell Baz didn't hold half the power he did. He sneered, "It will be worth it, for eventually I will be the only remaining Immortal. The rest will not matter."

A slow and malicious smile spread on Baz's lips and his black, obsidian eyes sparkled. "Well, then, my Lord, you should know what to do."

And oh, how he did. He did not waste another moment, but gathered all his magic and transported himself to the west. The room he found himself was brightly lit with chandeliers and candelabras and every wall was filled with tome upon tome. In the center of the room at a desk sat a thin man; long black hair falling past his shoulders and over robes of silky greens and ivories. Tarrence was only in the room a moment before Sajal realized he was not alone and looked up to see Tarrence stepping away from the entryway.

Sajal frowned and lowered the manuscript he was reading. "Tarrence, I wasn't expecting you this evening." He stood with the most practiced of ease and gestured to another chair. "To what do I have the honor?"

Tarrence did not sit, but instead stood beside the Lord of Cordel, both hands behind his back. "Nothing in particular, Lord Sajal, though I was wondering if you were aware of the new border agreements."

Sajal's blue eyes watched Tarrence warily, the hair on the back of his neck suddenly standing on end. Before he could react, Tarrence was on him pining him down on the ground. Sajal could not make a sound, could only stare in shock as he watched Tarrence stab a long knife into his heart. He gasped and clutched weakly at Tarrence. Sajal had never thought much of dying, it was an unnatural fear for an Immortal, and right now he still was not thinking clearly of death. Instead, he saw a beautiful blonde haired woman with eyes the color of an autumn sky. "Emma," he breathed out, reaching out for her with any magic he could, but as he pulled for the magic, it was not there. Sajal's eyes tried to focus, but the world was spinning and fading into darkness. Somewhere, far away it seemed now, he remembered Tarrence's presence, but he was growing too weak to think what that meant. "Emma," he tried again to reach out to her. His hand even lifted feebly from his side, but it was in vain.

Tarrence watched as Sajal's arm dropped limply to the ground, the blue in his eyes fading before lids covered them. Tarrence wasted no time. Quickly he slit his wrist and willed the pooling blood into his own. When the crimson liquid mixed with his it was agony. Power raced inside of him, burning every inch of his body. All he could do was lay convulsing beside the dead Immortal and wait it out. Slowly the pain gave way to a new sensation: pleasure. It was as if Sajal's own powers came to grips with its new master and instead of burning through him, purred through him, and caressed him. He rolled over to his knees and watched the last traces of blood flow into veins, panting slightly. The power within him was immense, it felt as if he could barely contain it. He left the room with a laugh that could be heard on the wind, and all who heard it cowered though they knew not what it meant. But Tarrence did. He had found a way at last to become more powerful than all the others. And in this way, he would rule them all.

This is short I know, but I was inspired before I went to class. There is a companion chapter coming up. Thank you to all who review, and to all who add me to your update lists. It makes me happy. :) Until next time.