-3-

A dusky underground cavern flicked only with light from flames wavering from torches set into brackets on the stone walls. A slab of rock in the center of the room served as an altar, vacillating in the flickering light. Nothing but dirt covered the ground, imposing dark and evil notions. Around the edges of the room, a dozen inky-black robed demons stood inauspiciously, motionless, but very much alive. They appeared to be waiting for something, or someone, remaining utterly silent, despite there being no one around but their comrades, the servants of the Source.

A shimmer in the air developed and the fire-faced demon appeared, breathing heavily and clutching its robes about itself. It hunched over, as if blocking a burst of air, and peered nervously about the room, expecting to see...

With a blaze of light and heat that made the demon cringe and shield its eyes, a combustion of fire blossomed in front of the stone altar, singeing its sides black, filling the room with a sudden sickly odor. When the flames died down, a dark figure was there, a gnarled, dead-looking claw resting easily upon the rock beside it, shrouded in a flowing black cloak with a hood that hid its face in a black shadow. The figure was short, but his mere presence filled the room with towering authority, the stench of evil clouding the senses of all present. It was neither man nor beast, rather the epitome of all imagined of the deepest, foulest, darkest corner of Hell.

"Back so soon, Justain, my friend? And empty-handed too? I'm surprised at you. I was expecting...company." The rough, raspy sound echoed around the cavern, ringing into every cranny and hole in the stone walls, slithering into each demonic ear like poison through blood.

The demon Justain promptly dropped to his knees in respect, though he was quaking with fear. "Sire," he croaked. Hastily clearing his throat, Justain tried to speak again. "Sire, the witches came as I was about to capture the boy. Two of the Magicked Ones, Lord, I believe the ones they call The Quiet One and The Compassionate One. They attacked me! I-I fought back with all my power-"

"Liar!" The cloaked figure hissed venomously. "You did not fight. You did nothing but run like a coward. Do you know what happens to cowards and liars in my service?"

The demons lining the walls shifted their feet, seemingly eager to see just what happened to cowards. Justain shuddered but regained his composure quickly, fighting to think of a way to redeem himself in the eyes of his master. "My Lord, I killed one of them. I have made them vulnerable again. Now, you can defeat them once and for all. We can attack the remaining three while they are mourning for their sister, then-"

"The Magicked Ones are not my priority right now, Justain! We are after the BrightGleam! Only then can we take over worlds of good and evil and kill all who oppose us. Even the three remaining Magicked Ones are powerful and dangerous. Surely you must know that after the undignified retreat you performed today. Once we have the BrightGleam, the Magicked Ones nor the Charmed Ones can stand up to me! Now, go and find the jewel. Don't fail me again, or you die!" With a roar of noise, the cloaked figure disappeared in a ball of fire.

The demon called Justain shuddered, grateful to still have his life. He was one of the lucky ones. Lucky for him he was valuable to his master. He had killed a Magicked One and, even if his master hadn't said or shown pleasure in the fact that one of his mortal enemies was dead, Justain knew he had done something right. Had his master's mood been any different, Justain would not be shuddering in the Underworld at this moment, for no one failed or disobeyed the Source of All Evil!