Into the Devil's Eye

by Akularz-Shati

DON'T KNOW THE LORE? NO PROBLEM! (see note in chapter 1 for details) Drukhari invade our reality and capture a young woman. She uses her vast knowledge about the Dark Eldar and her sharp mind to stay alive. Will she be interesting enough to be more than just a torture slave? It seems as if fate is smiling upon her... or is someone smiling in particular...? Image by Dmitry Brushray.

16. Chapter 16 - Preparations and one Favour

Hello everyone!

Four months is a terribly long time, my dear readers, and I am very sorry that I kept you for so long, however, as you can imagine, December was busy as hell, like it is for most people, and then the company I work for decided to drown me in work. Additionally, as you may easily see, this chapter is as big a monster as chapter 10, and it was even harder to write, since I had a shitload of planning to do, to get everything right. Why I did not part it into smaller bits? You see, I want each and every chapter to start with a proper quote and title, and finding those things is not as easy, therefore, I stick to my chapters as I planned them, no matter how long they grow.

Boy, am I happy that this is done!
I hope the waiting paid off for you. ;)

Huge thanks go to "SindelV", my co-author, for always being a great inspiration to me, to "bigwoof" for his mind-feeding discussions with me and to my husband, who wrote everything linked to combat training in this chapter.

Also, let me reply to your reviews of the last bit I posted (thank you so much for that - I had not thought that I would get any comments on that):

On BIBOTOT's review: Vect might seem a bit irrational and volatile, but think about it like this: he has to be patient and keep a calm façade for the whole day and when showing himself to his city, there has to be some time where he can let it all out, and which way would be better than using his slaves for that? As to your comment on the "Path" ... I think we have exhausted the topic per PM's, to find that we agree to not agree. ;)
CapitalClassShip: good, good! If he never ceases to surprise you, then I guess I am doing my job alright here. ;)
overlordevil: you and I have established the topic of cruelty enough, I think. ;) Thanks for making me laugh!
JJAndrews: thank you, I laughed wholeheartedly because of those words!
bigwoof: we really have discussed all that per PM, now haven't we? Thanks again for those discussions and your wonderful ideas!
RandomLurker: glad to hear that you like it so much, you honour me, though you say you know little about the Dark Eldar lore. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me!

And now, my dear readers, enjoy the chapter! You certainly have earned it with your patience!

P.S.: Full version is available for this one, including the explicit sexual stuff. PM me if you want to have it sent to you.

---

Chapter 16

Preparations and one Favour

"Greed, opportunism and a lack of foresight breed disaster.
So it ever was."
— Supreme Overlord Asdrubael Vect

IT WAS AN unusual path the Overlord walked down today. Unusual, but not unfamiliar. After all, Vlokarion was one of his oldest allies and he had visited him down in the bowels of Commorragh a million times by now, when they had to discuss something no one should even guess at. Nevertheless, it was a way that always tested his nerves and senses, though nobody would have ever guessed from his demeanour.

He smiled slightly.

Then again, who would ever question him?

Vect found that he cherished the challenge and the slight feeling of physical, immediate danger from time to time. As he descended the long, winding stairs into Vlokarion's lair, he was aware that he was watched by millions of unseen eyes, or, rather, devices, and that he only was not attacked or harmed by one of the numerous traps around here, because his genetic code was one of a few that got recognised by the invisible scanners of Rakarth's and Vlokarion's tower. Everyone, whose DNA was not imprinted into the databanks of the two Haemonculi Masters, or someone, who was not accompanied by a registered member, so to say, would be eviscerated immediately. Dissolved, rather.

It would have been wrong to say that Vect was at the mercy of the two Haemonculi, but climbing down those stairs certainly was one of the more thrilling things of his existence, since there could be a malfunction in the scanners or the Haemonculi could reprogram their system. Needless to say, the Overlord had had some fail-safes installed himself, which, in case of his true death, would ensure that both Rakarth and Vlokarion met a true death themselves. Going down alone was not his style.

Despite himself, Vect allowed such immediate danger from time to time, to keep his senses about and not to have them blunted by sheer boredom. Every step and breath was somewhat of a cliff-hanger.

The Overlord sighed. It had been too long since he had attended a decent battle. Vect made a mental note to himself about planning a great-scale raid, fit for his own command, and then moved on.

However, he was spared the unpleasant experience of perishing for today, and arrived at Vlokarion's doorstep, so to say.

Without any sound, the heavy, metal slate, which acted as the door, slid aside and let the Overlord step into the heart of Vlokarion's demesne.

As expected, the Haemonculus was tinkering with a bleeding, writhing and screaming mess on his operating table; undoubtedly another one of his unfortunate test subjects. Vect was aware that the Haemonculus had noticed him entering; on one hand, Vlokarion was a master when it came down to enhancing senses and bodies as a whole, on the other, the Overlord was quite sure that the Haemonculus's brain was directly connected to his whole laboratory. Nothing happened in here without him noticing.

With his usual, falsely-friendly inflexion, Vlokarion said, "Ah, Supreme Overlord, how good of you to pay me a visit!"

A particularly refreshing scream echoed in the vast chambers. Vect drank the wave of pure agony, which washed over him with this scream, like a fine wine and with a well-hidden delight. It were these moments that reminded him why he was engaging Vlokarion.

The Haemonculus shortly dared to turn his attention to his subject and said, "Quiet, you! Don't act up when the grown-ups are talking, otherwise, we shall go for another round." Sobs that would have broken all but the cruellest hearts were to be heard after that statement. Unfortunately for the victim, it was in the presence of two of the blackest hearts found, even for Commorrite standards.

With delight, Vect noticed that Vlokarion had chosen an exquisitely delectable specimen for his experiments today. Sensitive, keen and easily manipulated, it was a mon-keigh child. Certainly, this individual was not as delicious as one of the Eldar kind, but it certainly was a… treat.

With a cruel smile curling his lips, Vect said, "Is there any reason why you spoil me so delightfully?" With a half-earnest meant, but definitely dangerously voiced inflexion, he added, "Any bad news you want to prepare me so bluntly for?"

A heart-chilling chuckle escaped the scrawny frame of the Haemonculus. Though so spindly, Vect knew all too well that Vlokarion was an opponent in combat to be reckoned with. There was no telling how many enhancements had been added to this pale flesh, wrapped in parchment-like skin.

Vlokarion replied, "I believe that we both know that I am beyond such desperate and childish attempts of swaying your mood, since I know they won't work and do me any good." With what probably passed as an innocent smile for him, the Haemonculus added sweetly, "After all, I did not know that you were coming. So, how could I have prepared anything?"

They both knew that it was an elegant lie. Vlokarion might not have known that Vect would be visiting him today, but he had surely known the second the Overlord had passed the entrance of the tower. Enough time for a skilled master like Vlokarion to prepare something suitable.

Nevertheless, Vect decided to play along, and spoke the next lie, "Indeed, my dear ally."

Retracting his extra limbs and removing his instruments from his victim, the Haemonculus said, "However, I am sure you did not come down here to exchange false niceties. What can I, your – how did you put it – dear ally, do for you?" Vlokarion knew that he was allowed more than the back-breaking submission everybody else had to show the Overlord, therefore he enjoyed this refreshing polemic Vect deigned to have with him from time to time.

So did Vect, but he did not show it. Raising one perfectly arched eyebrow, he retorted, "Vlokarion, I am disappointed. Are you not able to guess yourself?"

Showing his shark-like teeth, the Haemonculus replied, "I take it you are here because of the special psychotropic treatment I have imposed on the dear, sweet child you keep as your personal slave?"

Vect answered him with a slight nod and had to keep from chuckling as the Haemonculus asked, with an eagerness he could not hide, "How did it go?"

Blank-faced, and set on unsettling the overly-cheerful Haemonculus a bit, the Overlord answered, "Satisfactory, but not as I would have liked. She could not keep her tongue in check the day she came back and after I gave her the second dose like you said I should, she started to feel pride about the things she achieves and to feel superior to her beloved friend. However, this is absolutely not what I wanted to achieve." He shook his head. "The whole sense of this treatment is to actually bind her mentally to me. I do not see what the state she now is in can achieve in that."

Despite the Overlord's rather displeased words, Vlokarion stared into thin air, flashing a smile that would have had lesser beings running away in horror and tapping his fingertips together, he said, "I can assure you, Overlord, everything is working exactly as anticipated. This is but the first step down the road to her complete submission. Now we have to let time and the absence of your presence in her life work for themselves. I would like to suggest that you have a word with Lady Hesperax and have her ensuring that the girl gets some particularly harsh treatment, to make her see how well she has been actually treated by you. I can guarantee you, she will be happy to be back at your side… if she gets back, that is."

Vect sighed volubly at that, but agreed, "Very well. I shall speak to her and stress the issue."

Still, in a cheerful mood, Vlokarion rambled along, "Excellent. It was exceedingly complicated to get the mixture right, but I am more than pleased to see that it works out just as intended. Are the stimulus and the reassurance of her friend's presence also working as intended?"

Again, a short nod from the Overlord. "Yes. The mental break helped the cracks in her mind to open up just a bit wider and now I can fill them with the designs I have in mind for her."

The Haemonculus was excited, he could not hide it. Mind-manipulation without breaking the victim was a high, complicated and respected art amongst his ilk. When the time for him came to step out of the shadows, he was sure to flaunt his finest works and surely would receive the highest honours of every Coven. His protected state gave him the time and his allegiance to the Overlord the means to achieve all his goals.

Outright happy, Vlokarion almost chantingly uttered, "Good, good!" Within a split-second, he changed to his usual, cold demeanour and in an earnest manner, he continued, "Aren't you concerned that sending her to the Carnival could make all your efforts, ah, superfluous, my lord?"

Now flashing his fangs too, Vect replied, "How shall I put that… I am sure that my Archons will smooth the way for her. There are some things developing and I suppose that I will have a formidable laugh and some changes in lower management when the Carnival is over. Besides," a vile smile showed on his features, "it will be also your responsibility to ensure her survival."

"Of course, Overlord. I am sure that she will call on me for a favour and I have already planned everything accordingly."

"Very well. I take your word for it."

Vlokarion was wise enough not to point out to the Overlord that he had to take his word for it, but rather smiled falsely and said, "My lord, can I offer you a light, but sweet repast? I was finishing my studies with my current subject anyways, so I might as well prepare something for you." It was always good to appease the old monster a little bit, if only seemingly.

Vect, of course, knew the refreshing delight of a child's soul and flesh, as well as the quality of Vlokarion's most skilful hand, therefore, he did not decline the offer.

The screams would have been soul-tearing for any but the most callous of beings.

---

Later the same day, the Overlord found himself on a path he had walked even more often than the one down to Vlokarion and he enjoyed it in an entirely different fashion. Whereas the way to the Haemonculus was lined with particular danger, this one was one of utter safety and the end of it always promised some in Commorragh unlikely sweetness.

Vect still had to chuckle lowly to himself when he ruminated on how much the rest of Commorragh thought it knew about his connection to Lelith and how little they actually knew. No one but themselves really could fathom the length and the depth of their relationship. Nevertheless, it would have been wrong to compare it to a standard relationship – love had had its part in that once upon a time, but that time was long past. It was an ancient, unique bond and it only could be understood by the two involved.

Usually, he would have had her come to him, but for some reason, which he could not even fathom himself, he had decided to show at her doorstep today, officially, for all of the rest to see. He had learnt to follow his gut feeling.

Vect smiled.

Even thinking about throwing senseless riddles, as an afterthought, at all those who were undoubtedly watching him, made him feel maliciously gleeful. Let them wonder their nauseatingly limited brains out why he came to the Crucibael on the eve of the arrival of the slaves!

Walking the corridors of the arena, which he had built for her a long time ago, always gave him a sense of calmness and focus. The feeling of martial prowess and belligerent pride was all around him, he could almost feel wills and bodies pitted against each other, combatants sparring, trying to outmatch one another, following the sweet dream of ever reaching the level of their flawless mistress or, even more foolhardy, of dethroning her one day.

Though he was here on official business, he was little surprised that she had let him know that she would meet him in her quarters, not the official audience chambers. Vect knew that Lelith used them rarely – well, there were not many that were even granted an audience and even fewer that could meet her unearthly price if they wanted to hire her for a raid.

Actually, nobody but him could. And he would make sure that it stayed that way.

Today, he had walked the corridors of the Crucibael without his lifeguard and therefore, no one was here to keep his weapon safe for him when he entered her chambers. She would not be pleased by that, he knew that, but as always, her protests about that would be only as a matter of principle. When it came down to it, Lelith knew that – even for her – challenging him sincerely was unwise.

So, as he stepped into her sanctum, her, as always, lounging gracefully on one of the divans, he immediately could see the disdain on her stunningly beautiful face. He thought that it added a shade to it that made her even more pleasing to look upon.

Without any form of greeting, she grated, "You know I hate it when you come in here like you are ready to wage a war."

His lips curling into a slow smile, he retorted, "Am I not always, my dear?"

At this unexpected quip, she chuckled softly. Her voice was like a gentle breeze, stroking his ears. Fluidly like quicksilver, she emerged from the divan and moving so smoothly that it looked like she floated, she came to him and stood before him. Looking him straight and fearlessly into the eye, she demanded, "True. Nevertheless, you don't have to in here. Deny me the usual courtesy and I shall not listen to you any longer."

She could be quite a handful. Nevertheless, he enjoyed the game and challenge, therefore, he played along.

Sighing, he put his sceptre aside and took off his helmet and gauntlets. Apparently, the Queen was in a rather complicated mood. After he was done, he said, "Appeased?"

"Barely," she riposted. Nonetheless, Vect could see the amused sparkle in her eyes.

"Oh, my Queen, what has ruined thine mood so deeply?" he teased her.

"As if you would care," she said, baring her fangs.

Chuckling, he continued, "True. Still, may this humble one propose his wishes to you?"

With an overly theatrical sigh, she turned around and strutting back to the divan with swaying hips, Lelith said, "So, what do you want? I take it that this is not a courtesy visit."

Vect grinned. "You know I do not do courtesy visits."

Tossing her glossy hair over her shoulder to look at him out of the corners of her eyes, she said with a lopsided sneer, "Oh, you don't? I recall otherwise."

However, he was no longer in the mood for games. "The instructions I have for you are paramount and I want you to carry them out exactly as I desire it."

Vect could see that she was contemplating for a second whether she should engage an insolent comeback, but Lelith was wise enough to understand that the time for playfulness was over. With a graceful nod, and now turning around again to face him, she replied stiffly, "Very well. What is it you desire?"

The Overlord felt a warm wave of satisfaction wash over him as he perceived her submissive tone and the slight breath of fear in her words. She was not sure whether she had overdone it. He liked to keep her wondering. Fiercely, he said, "As you have undoubtedly already figured out, I will be sending my personal slave to the Carnival."

She nodded and carefully waited for him to continue.

"For reasons, which I am not willing to reveal, she has to be treated particularly harsh during her training. Make her reach her limits without breaking her, mentally and physically, but only for a while. It will fit my purposes and will undoubtedly give her some edge in the coming Carnival," the Overlord explained.

"That can be easily arranged. Shall I train her by myself?" Lelith asked.

"Only if she is smart enough to use a favour for it. We would not want to make things too easy for her, now would we?" Vect smiled.

"As you wish," she said, still tense.

Having played her enough, he stepped close to her, laid his left hand upon her cheek and kissed her tenderly. She returned his kiss in the same manner; it was a rare moment of utter gentleness in both their lives, unbeknownst to most in Commorragh.

As Vect drew away again, eyes closed, he felt her soft, warm touch on his cheek and her velvety voice caressing his ears, "Do you want to stay a little longer?"

Smiling and opening his eyes again, he said, "Even I could not lie and say no to this to your face." Again, it stroked his narcissistic ego to know that he was the only one she would offer herself willingly to. He was keen on confusing the ones spying on him and coming officially to the Crucibael and spending quite some time here would surely reinforce the notion for his enemies that he was up to something more than he actually was. Practising deceit was one of his best means of discombobulation. Why not spend the time in a highly pleasing manner, then?

It took several, sweet hours, as always.

As they had both stilled their desire for each other, a unique flame still burning after all these millennia, they relaxed for a while, enjoying some particularly sweet blood-wine.

Unexpectedly, Lelith asked him, "Would you like to stay overnight?"

Though the thought enticed him, he lacked the time for it. Some things had to be arranged. He had to give his doppelgänger some specific instructions for seeing the child off in the right manner and what to say and do to the other one. Also, he had to look into some things, concerning the brewing conflict in his Circle.

With a voluble and sincere sigh, he answered, "Not today. I have a lot of things to arrange. I will send the child to you tomorrow. Show her not an ounce of softness."

Grinning fiercely, the Queen replied, "As if I ever did."

The Overlord chuckled, donned what he had taken off earlier and said, as he left, "Farewell, Lelith, it shall be a while until we meet again."

"You too, Asdrubael."

The Overlord left the Crucibael with an almost unnoticeable smile on his features. He made his way back to the Black Fortress quickly. There was much to be done.

---

Cold fear immediately greeted me as I woke up on the next day; I was not allowed the sweet, oblivious seconds of slowly awakening. It had been a soft kiss on my forehead that had awoken me and now an all-too-well-known voice echoed in my ears, "Time to get up, little one! We would not want you to miss the beginning of your training, agreed?"

How I hated him to immediately remind me. Nevertheless, I was wise enough not to show it, forced a weak smile onto my features and said, "Good morning, my lord! And no, of course, we would not want that."

Vect chuckled. "Good, good! Now, get up and start eating; I will wake Lisbeth in the meantime."

I did as he bid me, but as it turned out, he did not need to wake Lisbeth; she was already awake. Therefore, he chased her out of bed too, got up himself and we all got – more or less – dressed. I was cautious at his command and waited with eating until they joined me.

Either I had interpreted his words correctly, or he did not care, for Vect let me be for that.

I had a hard time eating, so did Lisbeth, but we tried to not show it too much. Nevertheless, I was painfully aware that he noticed. Then again, when did he ever not notice something?

With a mischievous smirk, he said towards me as he and I had finished eating, "Already excited?"

I really had to pull myself together to not shoot an utterly annoyed stare at him. "Make an educated guess, genius! As if you had to ask and didn't know in the first place," I thought sourly. Maybe it was not so bad that I got rid of him for some time. Then again, I realised, with my stomach growing cold, that I was too confident about winning this. I had no idea who the other competitors were; following the line of reason from Zuol's words, they would be a lot physically stronger than me and possibly already well-versed in combat.

Trying to show none of these concerns, I sighed and replied, "Not the word I would have chosen, but yes, definitely yes."

Continuing his terribly joyful streak, he said, "Very good! Off, into the bath with you! You shall be prepared accordingly; after all, this is an official event."

I nodded and obeyed him without any further ado.

In the bathroom, after showering, I met the two slaves that had styled me for the non-Black-Heart meeting. They treated me with respect and a title, like before, and I just endured it silently, I was too nervous to talk a lot to them or to even try to talk them out of this stupid way of dealing with me. It was no use anyways.

As they were done, I was once more amazed by their expertise…

…and by the amount of clothing I was allowed today.

They had given me a high ponytail, which was decorated with a metal clasp – reminded me a bit of the Dark Eldar hairstyles, though the ponytail was not as high on my head – and they had braided two small portions of my hair, which they had fixated to the back of my head in two decorative swirls, circling beneath the ponytail. My makeup made my face look quite hard and martial, but it suited me; my features were in general quite hard for a woman.

The clothes I had been given, excited me, though. I now wore a satin tunic, which looked like it was black at the first glance, but it reflected light with an emerald hue and it covered my body almost all the way down to my knees. Also, it was asymmetrical, covering only my left shoulder, and it also possessed a tapered cut, emphasised by a delicate platinum chain belt, which had been fixated around my waist. Also, I had been given forearm cuffs, made out of the same material as the tunic, and they were adorned with platinum buckles. To top that look off, I was given a sash covering my left shoulder and torso, and that piece was made out of silk, shimmering crimson, and the sign of the Kabal of the Black Heart was inwrought into it, both on the front and back, gems worked into it. Also, I had been given a choker made out of what seemed to be soft, black leather, and a shining ruby, hemmed in platinum, now sat on my throat.

And – this was the thing that disturbed me the most – I had been given sandals. They just were delicate things, made out of black leather, but by now I was so used to walking with bare feet that the shoes confused me greatly in the first moments.

Then, as the slaves had left and I had a moment for myself, I barely kept from crying and ruining my make-up again, since I was shown and reminded what I had been reduced to.

Damn, I even had forgotten what shoes felt like!

I had not noticed until now how much I had been pushed down and how low my personal claims in life had become. Survival had become my main goal; I had forsaken so much along the way. I was sure that even if I got out of this somehow, I would never fully become the human being I once had been again.

However, as usual, I did not have the time to give in to desperation.

Therefore, I took a deep breath, and left the bathroom again, barely ready to face my master once more.

As I came back into the main room, I saw that the Overlord and Lisbeth were sitting on the couch. They both looked at me as I entered – Lisbeth had a miserable sheen in her eyes, as usual, but she certainly was taken aback by my overall outfit; Vect just started to smile slowly and viciously, like he used to when he was either pleased or about to do something utterly callous.

With an elegant move, he got up, walked towards me and as I came to a halt in front of him, he ran his fingertips over both my cheeks and said, "My lovely Temira!" His smile deepened for a second. "Let us see whether you complement your looks with skill after your training, hmm?" Chuckling and not expecting an answer, he passed me and left for the bathroom.

I shook my head, once he had left, then went to Lisbeth and sat beside her on the couch.

She hugged me tightly, silently for a while, but then said, "Don't be scared – you'll be fine, you'll see!"

I just nodded, without saying something, since my throat felt so dry with nervousness. Only as Lisbeth touched me, I felt how cold I was and that I was slightly trembling. Well, at least I had to be delicious to my master. It was something.

Being hugged by her felt good – but leaving her soon felt terrible, for I feared for her. I was not sure how she would fare and what Vect would do to her once I was gone, yet, there was nothing I could do for her.

Therefore, feeling forced to say something, I said softly, "Same to you. Just try not to let him get into your head."

"No trying," Lisbeth chuckled.

I smiled, though I felt tormented, nodded and replied, "Right. Only doing."

We sat like this for a while, staring into the fire, enjoying each other's company and using that little time we had to give each other one last burst of strength.

Far too soon, the Overlord came back, clad in dark, ornated robes. As he saw us huddled together like this, the malicious sheen in his eyes was far more evident; I knew he enjoyed our bittersweet feelings quite a lot, after all, he had said so himself.

"Well, Temira, time to go! Keeping the Queen waiting is hardly a wise notion," he said and I found it strange how sincere he sounded with that.

I nodded and hugged Lisbeth one last time. I whispered to her, "Keep your chin up, girl!"

She hugged me tighter for a few seconds and whispered to me, "Don't you dare to die on me!"

We drew away from each other again and tears shimmered in both our eyes. It was by far the hardest goodbye I ever had been forced through.

However, lingering too long was a bad idea, therefore, I got up and we only severed our bodily connection as our stretched-out arms could no longer touch each other's fingertips.

What really surprised me was that we did not have to suffer any sarcastic comments from Vect's side.

I was taken aback as my master did not chain me as we left his quarters. However, after we left the torture chamber, I saw why.

Outside his quarters, a squad of Kabalite warriors, besides his bodyguards, awaited us. The leader of the squad stepped forward, his helmet tucked under one of his arms, revealing a seasoned, harsh, yet fiercely handsome face, dropped to one of his knees in front of Vect and said in a voice, which matched his looks, "Despair Bringers, at your service, Supreme Overlord, ready to receive the goods for transport."

My jaw proverbially dropped at that.

The Despair Bringers consisted solely of Zuol's finest, they were his personal squad, and they were the best in the whole Kabal, for all I knew. I immediately started wondering why the hell Vect picked them to bring me to the Crucibael, for I was quite sure that I was meant with 'the goods to transport', though I frowned upon that term. Was I so precious? Did he do it to confuse other people? Or was it just another, well-placed humiliation for Zuol, who had dared to speak against him?

All of those options seemed reasonable to me.

"Very well. Get up and do what you are here for! Here is the slave; bring her to the Crucibael and only leave once you have given her into the custody of the Wyches. She must not be unguarded one second earlier," Vect commanded.

The Dracon – judging from the decorations of his armour, he had to be – got up, and said stiffly, "Of course, Overlord! We will be off right away and shall report back once we have finished our task."

Vect nodded, then turned to me, stroked over my cheek once more, and with a seriousness that made his words certainly linger in my mind, and staring intensely into my eyes, he said with a softness that surprised me, "Do your best, little one!"

Suddenly taken aback by his gentleness, I nodded and answered reflex-like, yet thinly, remembering in the last second not to use the Dark Eldar tongue, "Yes, master!"

My mind raced as I had said that. I had never called him 'master' before… why had I done it now? I remembered that Lisbeth had called him so, had I overtaken this expression from her?

Scared, I asked myself whether he would take offence in my changed addressing.

However, there was no chance for me now to ask his permission, because, with one last, mysterious smile, he turned and went back into his quarters.

Suddenly feeling very unsure what that had been all about, and why I had changed my wording all of a sudden, I turned to the Dracon, bowed slightly and said, remembering in the last second that I was not to speak their tongue, "Dracon, I am ready."

His eyes narrowed, and his voice now sounded metallic, as he put on his helmet and the vox-caster and translator did their job, "Educated. Better than Zuol said." He shook his head. "Never mind. Let's go! You stay in our midst. If we get so much as a scratch on you, we are in trouble and I won't have this because you couldn't keep in your place. Understood?"

I confirmed, again bowing slightly, "Yes, Dracon."

With that, they led me away. My head started hurting from all the wondering it now had to do.

---

Lisbeth's heart sank as Vect came back to her only a minute later or so. She had hoped that he would be gone for a while, escorting Temira and all that, but she now had to see that she had been terribly wrong about that. Feeling very small and alone, she looked with dreadful anticipation at him, saying shyly, "Master? I had not expected you to be back so soon."

He shook his head and replied, "This is a way Temira has to go alone." Without saying anything further, he came straight up to her. As he did, he picked up the remaining slave collar, which had lain beside the basin on the washstand. Still only staring at her, his face an unreadable mask and his eyes as maliciously blank as ever, he donned it around her neck. Lisbeth was wise enough not to struggle as he did.

Nevertheless, she understood what he was telling her with this. She had known that things had not run well at all for her the minute she had stepped into his quarters for the first time, to put it mildly, but it was the first time that she now got aware of her true situation and how much more Temira had shielded her, without even her possibly knowing.

Temira had explained all too well how much symbolism the collar bore and how important it was not to be forced to wear it all the time. That he now had donned it on her in here, showed that things would get harder for her from now on and that he was displeased with her. Lisbeth could not fathom his motives for being easier on her while Temira was here, but she was sure that it included some kind of cruelty.

Vect stared at her for a few seconds longer – Lisbeth felt as if he was impaling her with his cold eyes, as always, and barely managed to return his gaze, as she racked her brain with contemplating what might be going on in his head in these seconds – then he relaxed his posture and sat down beside her. Lisbeth flinched as he laid his hand upon her cheek and stroked her gently with his thumb. With a malicious grin, he said, "There is one thing I would like you to do, child."

Lisbeth could just stare at him with wide eyes, heart pounding.

A short chuckle escaped his impressive frame, followed by words most callous.

"Do keep counting the days."

---

The man, who was the spitting image of Vect, and had learned to think and act like him, smiled sardonically as he walked back into the quarters. Or, rather, one set of quarters the Overlord possessed.

Temira surely would be in for a surprise when she came back, for several reasons.

If she came back.

He did not pretend to understand the Overlord's thoughts and schemes in full, he was just there to serve and he did it with pleasure. Nevertheless, he wondered why Vect had decreed that Temira was to be sent to the Carnival, since she had been treated so carefully until now. Then again, he was not to question his master and the thought disappeared before it could even manifest itself properly.

He looked forward to the next year of his service, especially because he now had only Lisbeth around, which he was allowed to torment mercilessly.

The doppelgänger took a deep breath, full of relish, inhaled the misery of the torture chamber around him and relaxed for a moment. The last year had surely been straining for him, as he had been instructed to be patient and careful with Temira, to lead her down a very specific road. Never before had his task been so complicated and delicate to handle, though the girl had admittedly done quite well and certainly had been a pleasing diversion to his usual tasks. Nevertheless, sometimes it would have been much easier to bind her down to a torture rack and break her than pushing her gently into a direction she needed to go and to slowly bend her towards her ultimate purpose, which was kept from him, of course, but again, this was nothing he should even dare question.

On the other hand, he had also enjoyed the last year, since he had worked so closely together with his master like never before and it had made him feel proud and pleased to get so much attention from his creator. After all, the Overlord was everything to him and he just existed to serve him.

Shaking those thoughts off and concentrating on the task at hand again, he entered the quarters.

The look on Lisbeth's face was quite priceless; obviously, she had hoped to be rid of him a little longer than that. That girl did not have herself under control whatsoever and reading her was as easy as reading an open book, even though he did not possess the depth of insight his master had in other beings.

He took pleasure in the thought of binding her down and removing her eyes with surgical precision, imagining how her fear and agony would taste if he did it, blood all over her face, and the sound of her lovely screams, just to never having to endure her staring as imbecilic at him.

Fitting her expression, she said, "Master? I had not expected you to be back so soon."

Shaking his head, he replied, showing not the slightest sign of what he currently imagined – after all, he still needed to take it slower than he liked to not break her entirely; she should at least be able to recognise Temira if she came back, "This is a way Temira has to go alone."

With that, Lisbeth would go down another way alone too. He barely kept from smiling as he stared at her, already pondering what he would do her next, keeping his imagination in more realistic limits. Now that Temira was gone, he was done being gentle with her. He had endured her incompetence until now with such leniency only because Temira needed time to recover and having her watch when he tore Lisbeth apart was simply not an option. From now on, this girl would learn, and she better do it fast, otherwise her punishments would become dire in quite a short time. He had no patience for her left – she also had not earned it one bit, her defiance had been amusing up to a point where it just had started to annoy him – greatly. She would now spend her days at his side, getting educated by his very hand, and her nights in the cage. He already looked forward to her face when he would confront her with that unpleasantness.

He almost chuckled at his own thoughts. Unpleasantness. Yes, she surely would call it differently. A smile flickered over his face at the thought of her blood running down his hands… and how he would lick it off, since she tasted quite nicely, though there was not much else to gain from her.

Either she made it or he would break her and there would be no one saving her this time.

The doppelgänger would leave her – as instructed – quite in the dark about his thoughts and the Overlord's plans, though. She had to learn to read and understand symbolism and not have everything hammered into her with words. Therefore, he took the remaining slave collar from the washbasin table, and went up to her, just staring at her, highly amused by her widened eyes and slow understanding, as he donned the collar around her neck. She stared at him as if he had spoken her death sentence.

Good.

Lisbeth started to understand that things would become dire for her from now on and he liked having that thought linger on and nag at her mind.

As his hands touched her throat and neck, he played with the thought of choking her; bruising her tender skin certainly was a pleasing notion and the pointless struggling and twitching of mon-keigh bodies was always very entertaining to watch.

However, choking her now would ruin her concentration, and he had one last bit of mental invasion to drop on her before he could start beating her up physically. Therefore, he took his hands off her throat again without so much as brushing her skin.

To follow the last bit – a very important one, as he had been told – of his orders, before he could get serious with playing with her, he sat down beside her, smirked at her flinching under his touch – that she still dreaded it so much just made this thing so much easier for him – and he relished her subliminal trembling under his hand as he said, "There is one thing I would like you to do."

Her heartbeat accelerated. Oh, how he enjoyed her fear, it made her smell and taste so nice!

Drawing out the dramatic pause and unable to hold a chuckle in because she looked so comical, he finally added, "Do keep counting the days."

The look on her face showed him that she understood all too well what that meant, which was, that he had heard every word they had spoken when he had not been in the room.

This was going even better than he had anticipated. Playing with her mind would surely prove to be very entertaining and useful as he tore her apart physically.

He smiled at her as he let his hand slide down to her throat and his grip tightened.

---

Ailith was excited. This was a unique occasion for her. Talking to the Succubus, the Queen, the one and only Lelith Hesperax, was an honour beyond measure. Considering her prestigious status alone it was an honour; the notion was even emphasised by the fact that Lady Hesperax was known to rarely speak.

Ailith was no youngster and newcomer herself – she was a Hekatrix, had stood her ground numerous times in the arena and on the battlefield, and had newly been anointed into the Bloodbride squad. It was a new experience and a harsh regiment the Syren lead, but Ailith had learnt a lot and she took the occasion that the Succubus herself wanted to speak to her as a sign that she did well.

Even thinking about that Lady Hesperax indeed wanted to talk to her because she had done something wrong and would be scolded by the grand mistress herself was a weakness she could not afford. There was no time to even think about failure around here.

Of course, she did not show any concerns and how nervous she actually was, but held her head up high and walked with her usual, cat-like gait along the corridors that would lead her to the audience chamber of the Succubus. The gates gave way to her and she stepped in.

Beholding the head Succubus of the Cult of Strife was always a treat for one's eyes. Her flowing, blood-red hair, her angel-like face, hiding one of the cruellest personalities in this city, and her perfect, lithe body were something else to behold. She possessed a beauty that none could match in this cursed city.

As it was required of her, Ailith halted a few meters in front of Hesperax's throne, dropped to one knee and said, "I am yours to command, Succubus!"

Ailith hated how terrible, raw and croaking her voice sounded compared to Hesperax's mellifluous voice, which floated through the room and caressed her ears, as she said, "Get up, child! We have some things to discuss."

"Yes, mistress," Ailith said and got up.

The Queen smiled. This could be either a very good or very bad sign for her. After leaving her hanging for a minute or so, she said, "I have a very special task for you, which I need to be executed properly, and I need an experienced hand for it." Deepening her smile, she continued, "You will be the one training the slave of the Black Heart, to be more precise, this one is the personal slave of the Overlord. She is to be treated particularly harshly, without breaking her. So, it will be your task to keep her on the edge for about six months. Keep her at her limits, but train her good; I won't hide from you that she has no combat experience whatsoever, so, this will be quite the task. Do this the right way, and you shall receive a personal reward from me. Blow it, and I will scold you personally. Any questions?"

The last question was rhetorical, of course. It was expected of a Hekatrix to know how to devise such a training.

Ailith shook her head and said, "No, Succubus, I shall carry out your orders as you desire it."

"Good. Then, go! She will arrive today," Lelith said and dismissed Ailith with a wave of her hand.

Ailith bowed and left the audience chamber.

For a second, she halted, slightly irritated, as one of the youngest Hekatrixes, Beltis, came her way. Ailith frowned upon how much attention that little bitch was given and certainly did not like how fast she rose in the ranks. Almost eaten up by envy, Ailith had to admit teeth-gnashing that the young Hekatrix had a lot of talent, and matched it with hard training and certainly a considerable amount of wits.

That Beltis now also spoke to Lelith in person unsettled and annoyed her, though she knew that the youngling would handle the survival training for the slaves of the ten biggest Kabals. Would she be given similar orders?

The two Hekatrixes greeted each other with a slight nod and cold stares, then went on their respective ways.

Nevertheless, now Ailith was even more excited, pushing her thoughts about Beltis into the far corner of her mind. This would be a challenge, and she understood the importance of her task, especially considering that the slave was closely tied to the Overlord. As Lelith had said, it was a task that required a steady and experienced hand and Ailith surely felt that she was up to the task. She would not disappoint the Queen, that her mind was set upon.

Ailith smiled. Giving someone hell whilst educating them was something she could surely do.

---

Excitement and nervousness flashed through me in equal parts as we arrived at the Crucibael. The journey had been short and fast – again, I had been amazed by the velocities the Dark Eldar used with travelling from one point to another. The squad had literally kept me in their midst all the time, I had never been unguarded. They took their task very serious, as it seemed. Then again, considering that their orders came directly from the Overlord, it was unsurprising.

We now entered the Crucibael through the main gate, and they led me along the corridor that circled the arena. After we had walked about around a quarter of the arena, we entered a smaller door, which led us into another corridor.

We also traversed this one, and it ended in an enormous hall. There, I saw my co-competitors for the first time.

I halted for a second in surprise.

I had thought that I would have to prove myself against all kind of races, but I solely saw human slaves in this hall. I was astonished by how many there were. There had to be at least one hundred. Somehow, I had figured beforehand that only the great Kabals would be able to compete, but as it seemed, I had been completely wrong about that.

Vect had lied to me with telling me that all kinds of races were to be found in the Carnival. The question remained, why he had lied. I was sure that I would not figure it out, but it startled and scared me. About how much had he lied additionally?

I tore my thoughts away from this, since other matters were at hand.

The hall itself was ornated, like most of the rooms found in the Crucibael, but nothing special for its standards. The only true highlight it possessed was an elevated platform, which could only be reached through a different door that led into the hall and directly onto the platform; the platform was not directly connected to the where the slaves were standing in any way.

As we entered, our small group was receipted by a singular Wych. The Dracon talked to her and explained who I was and why I was here, she nodded, apparently already informed about my arrival. After their exchange, the squad left and the Wych gestured me to follow her. So I did.

She led me into the room, and the further she led me, the more my heart sank, completely detached from my relief earlier that I only had to compete against my own kind.

Most of the other slaves I saw were definitely beyond me judging from their physical frames. I saw a lot of people that were toned, most were seemingly a bit older than me, but I had the dreadful feeling that I was among those around here that were inexperienced in combat. The slaves were arranged in groups and sorted after the size of the Kabal they were in.

I only knew some of the Kabal signs I was seeing on their attires; all of them were styled, like me. Most seemed to be rather annoyed to be here. Some showed deadly calmness. Some were scared, like me.

As expected, I was led to a group of slaves, which bore the signs of the biggest Kabals, and my place was – again, as expected – at the first place in that group. I gulped and felt my palms getting sweaty as I saw my direct competitors, so to say, for I was deadly sure that all of them were proficient in some way of murder and combat.

Two did not fit the picture.

The slave from the Last Hatred was a pretty young girl, possibly younger than me, and she looked positively freaked out. Considering that she most likely had been mentally tortured almost to insanity by Thyndrak herself, this was not surprising. I was pretty sure that she was just here to be sacrificed in some really gruesome manner; it would suit the madness of Thyndrak.

The slave from the Kabal of the Poisoned Tongue, Malys's Kabal, also was not a toned-up warrior. He was an elderly-looking, bald and scrawny man, and the profound look in his eyes hinted at a sharp and sly spirit. I noticed that he sized me up carefully.

It was interesting that only the one from Malys's Kabal and me seemed to be rather focused on wits than on muscles.

I had to smile. Vect and Malys could not deny that they thought alike. But it was wiser to tell neither that line of thought.

It was strange for me to hear Low Gothic being spoken around me. I had gotten used to the Dark Eldar tongue so much, that it had become the most natural for me to speak and hear. I also reminded myself once more that I was to let no one know that I actually spoke their tongue. I had to be on my toes not to forget that.

The room was filled with the murmur of many, lowly-spoken conversations. Those conversations fell silent as the door on the increased platform opened and the one and only Lelith Hesperax entered the room.

I quickly looked around and had to smile as I saw that a lot of slaves did not do one bit better than me when I had perceived her for the first time. She surely was something else, absolutely captivating and bewitching.

And she enjoyed that notion, I could see it.

Smiling – it was a smile which was as cold as ice – she stepped forward, and spreading her arms in an all-encompassing gesture, she said, "Slaves! Welcome to the Carnival of Death!" Hesperax knew how to bathe in the limelight – that much was evident.

She dropped her pose and started pacing on the platform while she continued, looking and sounding very much like she was talking to an underprivileged imbecile, "I take it that most of you have only heard rumours and have been given only vague information about what these festivities are about. Let me explain everything to you now. In one year, a year, which all of you will spend with survival and combat training in these very halls, the actual Carnival will start, where all of you will race in the so-called Sprawls, one of the lowest districts of Commorragh, in a contained arena for a certain prize. The one able to retrieve the prize will survive. The rest of you… will die."

She paused there, and let those words linger on the minds of the slaves. To many, this seemed to be dire and unheard news, and a cloud of fear engulfed the room with dreadful silence.

After Hesperax had enjoyed the dread enough, visibly taking it in with delight, she continued, "I guess, most of you will ask themselves why they should go through the effort of winning at this point, if failure grants you death? For one, don't think that a quick death will await you if you dare to not even try to move towards the prize, for we will have some bounty hunters in the arena, which will kill you off. And, secondly, retrieving the prize for your Archon will grant you high honours and a very comfortable life around here. We are talking about a crystal ball, only opening to the touch, and inside sits something exceedingly rare, a pure soul. From your mostly blank faces, I judge that you need some more explanation to understand the impact of this. To make it simple, a pure soul is a rare treat, even around here, and it is powerful enough to replenish the body of even the most ancient True Eldar. So, win the Carnival, bring this prize to your Archon, and win something only the fewest of you can have around here: more than sole survival, an actual life."

I immediately called bullshit on that.

Not even Hesperax and Vect combined would be generous and insane enough to give away a pure soul, they would rather keep it for themselves. I was pretty sure that the talk about the prize was just sweet talk and lies, nothing more, to keep the slaves motivated, and to make their despair even greater when they realised that it all had been a cruel lie.

Woe to those that believed them.

Hesperax was not done, "However, to give each and every one of you an equal chance, as I already mentioned, you will be trained for one year, to stand a chance in the trial to come. The survival training will be held in small groups of ten, your combat training will be done in private one-on-one sessions, so you can't sneak a peek at your competitor's skills and style. After all, we want to keep things interesting, now don't we?" She smiled viciously. The most terrible thing about this smile was that it made her look even more beautiful. "In addition to this training, each and every one of you will be granted three favours, which you can call in by yourself (at this point, I found it strange how she emphasised these words) from anybody you know, but not from an Archon that has a rival competitor in the Carnival. However, since we don't want someone cheating with a too powerful favour, there are some limits to those favours."

With each point she now listed, she held up one more of her long, elegant and pointy-nailed fingers. "One: you may not modify your body in the extreme, meaning, that you may not have some extremities added to your body, like extra arms or wings or the like. If you have your senses enhanced, for example, this would be within the rules. However, I doubt that most could stand the pain this is attached to; the Haemonculi are miserly with anaesthetics. Two: you may not call in reinforcements in the actual Carnival as a favour. You have to fend for yourselves and you have to kill the others with your own hands, don't even think about calling in a favour for killing other contestants off. The exception to that rule is equipment, like an environmental suit, poisons or other tools. However, concerning poison, I have to add that you are only allowed to carry one phial of poison with you, no more. Three: you may not call for means of faster travel in the actual Carnival, you have to traverse the arena by foot. Four: ranged weapons are forbidden, assembled or otherwise, we want you to go into close combat with each other. Five: you may not call in more than one favour from one person. Also, you should know that the one you call in a favour from, may not refuse the favour altogether, but may attach conditions to it or alter it, so that it fits the rules, if the favour would break them. Be advised that choosing your favours carefully will be vital and it will decide to a great part whether you will walk out of the Carnival alive."

She took a deep breath, then continued, "The timetables for your lessons will be given to you, concerning the survival training, your combat training will be commenced as your personal trainer sees it fit. Each and every one of you will have their own quarters, however, you will eat together. Also, the smarter ones of you might wonder how you should deliver the favours to your granters. All of you will get a personal Scourge, who will deliver the messages for you. To call them, you will be shown to the calling platform of the Crucibael, and all of you will get a personal code that will call the Scourge, who is assigned to you. Should you have any further questions…" She trailed off, smiling evilly. "Well. If you ask your trainers nicely, they might answer them, but don't expect that. Everything else is up to you. Do your best, to slack off is frowned upon around here!"

With that, she left, swiftly and with swaying hips.

I was astonished by the discipline of the Imperials.

I had assumed that the hall would be plunged into enraged disarray the second Hesperax had left, but nothing like that happened. They stayed quite silent; either they had to realise her words, or they were too much frozen in horror to act up.

Whatever the case, the slaves were led away in small groups, possibly to show them to their quarters. The group I was in, the one with the ten slaves of the ten biggest Kabals, was first. I guessed that all of this followed some kind of highly complex hierarchy and doing it in the wrong order would most likely invoke the ire of some Archon.

I was reminded very strongly once more that I was in a group of professionals, because we did not talk to each other. In my group, I had the contestants of the Flayed Skull, the Blackened Tear, the Baleful Gaze, the Bloodied Claw, the Last Hatred, the Broken Sigil, the Black Myriad, the Lords of the Iron Thorn and the Poisoned Tongue. Almost all of them were older, taller and looked stronger than me.

Again, I felt my heart sinking.

How should I compete against those people? Did Vect truly send me here to die or had he another thing in mind with all that?

I was aware that I had to choose my favours wisely, and luckily, I already knew two of the three favours I would call in.

Vlokarion would certainly be the first one.

I needed enhancements; otherwise, I would not stand a single chance in this race. Once I knew my Scourge, I would send word to him and hope that he would accept my proposal as it was. I figured that my chances for that were pretty good, since I knew he was fond of me. If I was clever, I was positive that I could shake quite some things loose from him.

My second idea for a favour was Lady Hesperax herself.

I knew her personally, and she probably was the best teacher I could get for additional combat training. I knew that she would be demanding, to say the very least, and that she would push me to my limits, but if I wanted to win this, I needed the best of the best. And this she surely was.

However, I did not know what to do with my third favour.

Considering my co-competitors, I had thought about poison, since this was allowed, because I was pretty sure, no matter how hard I trained, I would not be able to match up against most of the others, so a little bit of subterfuge and backstabbing was necessary for that.

The thought of poison led me inevitably to Archon Yaelindra, for who could provide better poisons than the mistress of the Lhamaeans herself? Also, I had understood the wording of Hesperax here. She had talked about one phial of poison, but not about how many doses it might hold. The most concentrated toxins would come from the Lhamaeans and I was sure that a compound provided by Yaelindra herself could be concentrated enough for more than one human. However, I was not allowed to call on her, since she had a competitor in the Carnival.

I needed to figure something out, since I was not allowed to call in two favours from one person, otherwise, I would have asked Vlokarion about the poison. Of course, I knew another Haemonculus, but asking Urien Rakarth for a favour seemed pretty insane and completely desperate to me.

I somehow had the feeling I was missing something, but luckily, I had a year to figure it out. It should be enough time for me to get there.

To my great displeasure, I had no time for assessing my co-competitors for now, but if I guessed correctly, I would be with them in the survival training sessions. I was shown to my quarters for now; the Wych, who had led us, said to me that I would be fetched by someone soon, who would show me around further.

As the door closed behind me, I sighed deeply. That I now was for myself for a short time was no good, for it made me wonder again.

I dearly felt betrayed by my master for lying to me, though I really should have expected that not all of the things he said to me were true. It just escaped me why he had lied about this particular detail when I could discern the lie so easily. Was it a warning of some sort or a strange hint? I could not figure it out for the life of me.

I shook my head, focusing on the present, and inspected my room.

It was minimalistic, but I had not expected anything else. A bed, a desk, and a cupboard were in the small room; all of them held completely simple. A door was leading out of the room to the right.

I was reminded at this moment that I had got used to the splendour of the top of Corespur, and now that I was away from it, I only realised how much I had actually liked it. It was always the same – you only knew what you had once you had lost it.

I saw that a writing kit was also on the desk; I supposed that this was meant for composing the favour-messages. It was actually so simple that I was surprised, considering the usually highly technological way of the Dark Eldar. I really would have to write down the messages on paper with ink, and the messages would be packaged in metal phials. It was so old-fashioned, I had to smile, despite my feelings at this point.

Also, I found the timetable of the survival lessons, like Hesperax had mentioned. It was scheduled every second day in the morning for three months, after that, it was all combat training.

As I was done examining the desk, I walked to the cupboard, to see what was inside.

Little was I surprised as I saw that it mostly held what was basically sports underwear. The materials were again fascinating, I was sure that they would feel delightful to wear, but basically my clothes would consist of sports bustiers and hot pants.

I was happy that it came down to this and I was not forced to wear some chain-burdened attire that would make every move even harder to execute. I figured that training would be hard enough as it was.

I closed the cupboard again and inspected the room behind the second door, only to find a small bath, with a washbasin, a toilet and a shower.

Strangely enough, that relieved me. I had feared that we would have a common shower, and I was not fond of the idea of showing myself naked more than necessary. It was the last ounce of dignity I had around here and I was keen on not letting it go so easily.

I halted and shook my head for a second at that thought. It surprised me that this actually mattered to me once more, now that I was amongst my own kind again. Had I already forgotten the time where I had not seen clothes for weeks? I really needed to focus on the main problem at hand here and not some silly notion of dignity.

After I was done inspecting the room, the door opened again and the Wych, who had led the group beforehand stood in the door. She gestured me to come along. I obeyed, of course.

The Wych then gave me a tour of the 'mon-keigh area', as she so gallantly put it. Basically, this area consisted of one extremely long corridor, from which ten shorter corridors branched away. In the shorter corridors, the quarters were arranged, in the groups of ten in which the survival training would be held. Those side-corridors branched away from the main one at its start. The dining hall, the survival training grounds and the combat training halls were situated behind the quarters. The whole area was strictly separated from the rest of the Crucibael, so the humans could not interfere with the daily business of the Crucibael.

The last thing she showed me was the calling platform. It lay at the end of the long corridor, and I was surprised as we stepped out into the open. A strangely-looking device sat on the left of the entrance, and the Wych showed me how to use it, for it was the calling beacon for the Scourges.

She said, "The name of your Scourge is Sakh'ur'lath. A nasty piece of work, that one." Smiling evilly, she added, "Well, that is your problem now. I will stay here as you now meet him for the first time, just in case he misbehaves."

I did not like her words, but remained calm and nodded.

Something occurred to me and I asked her, "Isn't it actually very unwise to be out in the open like this? I mean, there are enough aerial predators around here."

She chuckled. "Pure naivety, how I love it! I can put you at ease here: this platform is shielded by a force field, which only is shortly deactivated when the called Scourge enters it. I won't explain it to you in detail, since I am pretty sure that you are not smart enough to understand it, but that's basically it."

"I see. Good to know," I nodded, trying to hide that the insult to my intelligence shook me. I had been insulted like this before, but by people far more worthy of doing so. And when my master had done it, he had always had a tad of an amused undertone to his words, since he and I both knew that comparing his and my intellect was superfluous. Yes, his insults had been just and he certainly had had a finer tone to them than this annoying bitch.

Then we activated the calling beacon.

For a while, nothing happened, and I looked a little confused at the Wych. She just shrugged and said, "Well, they have their own heads, you know. Sometimes they take their time."

Minutes passed.

And then, I heard the beating of sizable wings.

I looked up into the crimson sky and my jaw dropped in awe as I beheld a Scourge for the first time from up close.

With matchless elegance, he circled the platform once, gliding on his enormous, ebon wings, his coal hair dancing in the breeze, then he took a short dive under the platform, came into view again with spiralling upwards and gently, he landed in front of me, making barely a sound with his clawed feet, as they touched the floor.

I could not see his face, since he wore a finely chiselled, beaked and golden mask; only the stare of his dark eyes was easily visible for me. I realised how extremely scrawny he was, but I knew this was necessary, otherwise a Scourge would be too heavy to fly. This skinny frame was just underlined by the black bodyglove he wore.

He folded his wings and arms and with a voice that had a croaking sensation to it, he cawed, "What do you want?"

I bowed shortly to him, then said, "Sakh'ur'lath, I presume? My name is Temira, for the time of the Carnival, I was told you were to deliver my messages. I figured we should meet once before I have a job for you, so we know each other."

Sakh'ur'lath made a hissing sound, shook his head and croaked, "Are you serious? Calling me here just for a heartfelt meeting? Don't you think I have nothing better to do?" He made a clicking sound with his tongue, or at least I presumed that. "Besides… who says that I did not see you already? I have only heard rumours about the limited senses of the mon-keigh, but never had I believed that they really were so… dull."

Without giving me any chance to say anything else, he whirled around, giving me a profound hit with one of his wings, which made me stumble backwards and fall quite inelegantly onto my butt. Then, he jumped off the platform and seconds later, I could see him soaring away.

The Wych laughed, as I got up, cursing to myself and rubbing my hurting rear.

"Told you. Quite the handful, that one," she said, "Come with me. I will see you back to your quarters, where you will change and then you will go to your training hall. Time for your first combat training."

I was excited and scared for that at the same time.

However, I would not get away from this one, so I followed her back to my quarters, where I changed as she had told me, storing my splendid clothes neatly in the cupboard, removed most of my makeup and then I went to the training hall she had indicated for me earlier.

I entered the hall through an archway that was lacking any hint of gates and I felt my anxiety growing already, even though the slaves were kept in a separate tract of the Crucibael, literally everyone on this sub-level would hear my screams, failures and all those terrible things that this training would – most likely – demand from me. The walls were straight and tapered into a pointy, arched roof while most of the walls were doubling as a weapon rack, holding countless bladed weapons from daggers over swords up to exotic pieces that I could not even guess to name. I was intrigued as well as terrified as I realised that some of the weapons were more likely to prolong suffering and pain than allowing the combatant to go for an immediate killing blow… or even to discipline somebody without doing too much harm.

I had the terrible feeling that I would get to know a lot of those weapons from the receiving end.

There was no trace of somebody else in this room and after a few minutes, I started to inspect the weapons more closely that adorned the walls. Most of them seemed very light – to my understanding; I knew next to nothing about these things – and were crafted so finely and thinned to such extent, that they looked almost unusable, suggesting that they would shatter at first impact, or deform at least, were they made of common steel, or even fashioned from imperial materials such as adamant.

I was immediately torn from my thoughts as a sharp, silken voice pierced the absolute silence of the hall, "What are you doing? Stop drooling over the blades, girl!"

The build of the hall supported her forceful voice and the echo of her remark was still haunting me as I spun around and realised I had taken no notice of the Dark Eldar woman entering the hall from the other side. I immediately recognised her rank as that of a Hekatrix and greeted her accordingly by bowing and uttering, in the most secure manner I could muster in my slight surprise, "I am yours to command, Hekatrix!"

"That much is evident…" she mocked my greeting while giving me an appraising glance.

That she did not react to me knowing her correct title just by judging her scarce attire, unsettled me. I feared that she would be even more relentless than I had originally anticipated.

"So you are the Overlord's… distraction and recreation," she continued in a vitriolic voice that proclaimed her dislike towards me, "I must say, rarely have I been less impressed by a slave sent here for training. You don't look like you can hold up after running a few laps, safe to say a prolonged fight after days of pushing your limits. The Carnival is relentless to its participants, that the choice fell onto you seems… perplexing."

I tried not to take her words to heart, dismissing it as banter and a show of dominance, but she knew how to deal damage with words.

"Say, did you have any training whatsoever? General fitness? Unarmed defence? Anything?" she asked, more or less into the room, rather than addressing me directly, sounding more underwhelmed by me by the second.

"I… had ample opportunities to ride horses back home, and my duties here… toughened me up at least a little bit, I guess," I concluded, unsurer of myself by the second.

She snorted; a strange sound to behold from such a graceful creature, but maybe just because of that, it expressed her opinion about me so well. "Fine, I'll be damned if I can't show you fat swine a thing or two, at least to make your death entertaining in the Carnival, if not prepare you for victory," she mused sourly, talking to herself, "Pick up a pair of daggers, you have very little time to make up for your unfitness, girl…"

I did as I was told, unsure as to why in all hells a complete starter should go for something as complicated as daggers… she said daggers… two of them, as if a single one was not disadvantageous enough for someone like me. I could barely contain my doubts about that choice, but I did not let it show… or so I thought.

"You have something on your mind, girl?" she asked with a honeyed voice that should have warned me, but in my slight confusion – and her constantly pushing me – I missed even that broad hint.

"Would a sword or something with at least a bit of range not be…" I was interrupted by a hard punch to the stomach by her.

How could she be that fast, she had barely entered the room so far?!

Fear wallowed up inside me while I tried to manage the visceral pain and control the nausea that this single attack had left me with. When I finally was able to control my breathing again I realised I had fallen to my knees and supported my weight with my right hand while my other one covered my mouth, as the nausea was almost unbearable.

Faintly at first, but sharply and clearly as I slowly regained my senses, I heard her whispering beside me, dropping every single word like vitriol upon my head, "I do not know where your value lies, you worthless bitch, but in here, whatever you think to know is worthless; to me, to you and even to the Overlord. You will do as I command when I command and you will not second guess me, you filthy mon-keigh swine! Consider this your first and last warning and learn from your mistakes. Or don't. That would be more fun."

I blinked away the pain, but the nausea subsided only slightly and slowly. "Don't puke, whatever you do, do NOT puke!" I urged myself, slowly trying to get up and breathe it away.

"My name is Ailith, you failure, not that it matters. You will call me 'mistress' as long as you live, or as long as you are here, whichever ends first. In here, I am your goddess and this room is your world," she snarled while her dark eyes transfixed me. She pointed to one of the countless weapon racks, then to me and barked, "Daggers, bitch, now!" It obviously was meant as an order, but she voiced it like it was one of the basic truths of the universe, as a thing that just was and that required no explanation.

Arduously I got up, having barely recovered from the hit and obediently I walked to the rack, still fighting down my nausea and the throbbing, pulsating pain in my stomach, and picked up two daggers. They were so light that I somehow felt even more exposed than ever, as if I was inviting conflict by being armed and yet they did not give me the slightest hint of actually being a threat to… well, anybody.

After a few basic explanations about how to wield them properly and a few basic manoeuvres, Ailith herself grabbed two metal objects that were essentially rondel daggers with a blunt, rounded tip and heavy disc guards.

"You may try to strike me, whenever ready… or able, girl," she said sarcastically as her lips curled into an amused smirk.

I tried to follow her explanations and tried as best as I could to strike her by using both of my blades for the next time, but I always ended up bringing them too close together and with one swipe she controlled both of my arms and rammed the blunted tip of her training dagger repeatedly into my chest. It hurt like crazy every single time and after some time, as she struck me again, I nearly blacked out by the overwhelming throbbing, which had gotten worse each time she had struck me.

Alas, she was not done this time.

Just when I had almost recovered once more, still amazed that I had not taken any substantial damage – the blunt tips merely mimicked the piercing of actual daggers, yet, it hurt quite badly – she swiped my feet away from under me and I took a hard fall onto the ground of the training hall. As I was lying there, wrecked with pain, she thrust her dagger again downwards at me and hit me in the neck, right beside my spine. The sensation I experienced was paralysing, numbing, almost pleasant at first. But then suddenly a pulsing pain spread through my entire body, crawling down my spinal column, as if somebody had substituted my nerves with acid and finally spreading into every bone in my body. Overloaded with pain, my brain could not handle the strain and I blacked out.

All I remembered, besides the pain, was my own wailing as I felt as if I had to die because of whatever Ailith did to me.

When I came to my senses, I felt weak, fatigued and violated, but she was not done yet.

"Get up, we just have started," she sneered. "Learn from pain, get used to it, and use it against your opponent," she said in a matter-of-factly voice as if I was a child that just had found out that fire was hot.

I could barely move, I thought of everything… anything that could help me here, I did not know what to do; all I saw was someone whom I could never hope to beat, yet who would never quit before she was satisfied.

I stumbled more than I walked towards her and tried to feint in mid-charge, but she obviously was so little impressed by my manoeuvre, that she even had time to roll her eyes while I was coming at her. The fact that I hardly felt most of my skin or that I could barely walk did not help at all, so she sidestepped my clumsy assault and she did not even have to be fast compared to what she was probably used to. Again, I felt the aching tap of her training tools, the paralysis set in and my momentum carried me into a short slide over the floor, where I shed some skin from my chin, nose and cheek. After a second, the actual bad part began all over again. Wrecking pain that felt like my nerve endings burnt out, seared through my body up to the point when my frail brain could not handle it anymore and I passed out yet again.

When I regained consciousness, I lay on my back and the left side of my face felt wet and cool; a refreshing contrast to the blunting, throbbing pain which left my body only tediously slowly. The carpet burn on my face had been treated, obviously, with a cooling, gel-like substance, although there still were only two people – including me – in the hall.

I heard a sigh that sounded rather angry than disappointed and Ailith hummed under her breath, "I knew that mon-keigh are bloody useless, but you are not even fun to devastate." She shook her head, apparently annoyed. "Up! Again! We will not stop until you get at least something right, even if I have to have you patched up with skin grafts!", she said in her usual silky voice that was soaked with vitriol.

I tried to get up, but I could not even feel my legs. The right one was at least able to support a bit of my weight, but I still had to use my hands not to fall over; nevertheless, I could not even bend my left knee.

"Come on, I do not have all the time in the city! Jump to it, or I jump at you, maybe that will get your survival instincts going!" she said with a sweet, almost girly voice that somehow sounded supportive.

"I can't move!" I croaked, realising that even my voice failed me as frustration and helplessness took whatever defiance I had left.

"I can't move!" she taunted me, mimicking me while pretending to rub her eye with a free hand.

With a single movement, she was beside me and kicked me in the ribs, lightly for her standards, but enough to topple me over in my weakened state, rolling me on my back again.

"See? You can move, just not like you want it! Is your spirit broken so easily, bitch? Are you that pathetic if you don't have your master around and you actually have to fight for your survival?" she laughed at me with her full, vibrant silken voice. It was no taunting anymore, she actually laughed; my weakness amused her.

I felt black rage, pure and numbing, flowing through me and my eyes starting crying tears of hate and helplessness, only making Ailith laugh louder. I did not think, I just wanted it to end; I forced my dead weight around and took a swipe with my left dagger at her lower leg.

She sidestepped again, but her laughter subsided.

"Ah, so desperation is what gets results with you, filth! Finally!" she rejoiced mockingly while stepping on my left wrist, fixating my entire arm, knowing perfectly well I could not bring the other one around as I had used it to support my weight for the attack.

"Not good, not even acceptable, but progress nonetheless. Go get some rest, you have six human hours. Hope for your sake that you handle the survival training better than this one," she growled like a feline predator, as if she needed to threaten me even further into submission.

"But I can't move, how do I…" I could not finish as she grabbed me at both cheeks with one of her long, spiny hands, closing of both my mouth and nose, choking me.

"How do you think? Swine like you go on all four! I don't give a slave's ass if you sleep here, on the floor, or in your damn chamber! Do not ever dare to ask me for help with any of your ridiculous slave problems!" she spat in my face, her eyes wide with rage. When I was close to passing out and my neck cramped, only then she let go; dropping me on the cold floor.

When I had caught my breath she was already gone. And I realised that I was as alone as I could be. I realised I wanted home. But not home, not back to my old life and to earth, I wanted back to my master, who treated me… fairly. Yes, he had always given me a fair chance in everything and had only scolded me when I had made some severe mistakes. Also, he treated me certainly better and if I had to die in this city – I realised – I was afraid of dying by any other hand than his.

I lay there for some time, waiting for the visceral, throbbing pain to leave my body and for the control over my limbs. Finally, I was able to stand up as my legs were able to support my weight again. I stumbled back to my chamber, supporting myself with the wall, sweating bullets along the way. I thought I never had sweat like that before in my life and I reeked like a hunted animal.

I processed what this meant for me. The time around here would be hell, no matter what, for Ailith was just a really callous being and nothing more.

I had no idea how I was to survive even the training, for I knew that I had to face it every day. My whole body was aching, every muscle in it strained beyond measure and the points Ailith had poked with her rondel daggers pulsated with numbing pain. I realised that several spots near to where she struck me remained numb and almost paralysed for quite some time.

As I reached the inside of my quarters, I halted for a moment, panting heavily and grunting in pain and with strain. Though I would have loved to do nothing else than falling into my bed and sleep, I needed a shower first and I knew that it would help me calm down.

Therefore, I forced myself to stagger into the bath, peeling off my clothes and stepping into the shower.

As the – luckily warm – water fell down on me, I yelped as it hit the overly-sensitive points and the grazes on my face, but after a few seconds the pain got eased. The numb areas now felt like pins and needles. And so, I started to think.

So much had happened today and it was so much to process. I decided to take it chronologically and slowly.

Again the thought flashed into my mind why I had called the Overlord 'master' and for the life of me, I could not figure it out. It just had slipped out, and to an outsider, it might just have looked as a figure of addressing someone like Vect in my position, but I felt that it was something more. Using this word meant for me that I had accepted him on a different level, not just as the Overlord or the lord, but as my master.

It unsettled me.

Did I really start to bow to him so much that I accepted him as a part of my life, as my patron, my powerful benefactor? Had he liked that addressing? Had I lost a lot of favour with him just before I left and could I make it even right again if I won? He had not shown any disdain about it, but that in itself did not mean anything. I would have loved to ask him whether it was alright; now I had to wait with that until the festivities.

One year.

I had one year to wonder as to the how and why of things.

Then, I recalled my training with Ailith and barely kept from crying.

I did not know how I should stand this each and every day, for I was sure that she would push me around all the time and torment me equally mercilessly if I did not learn to follow her instructions faster. I had no idea how I should deal with her, and the most terrible thing was, I knew that I would need time to figure something out, and in this time, my body would take all the punishment.

Also, I did not understand what the hell she had wanted to accomplish with that "training" she gave me. She surely had punished and humiliated me like no one else before had and that she was completely underwhelmed by me just made things worse. I had never had such a hard time with anyone around here, maybe only because I had been near the Overlord all the time and the few people which I had to deal with more often had liked me so far. I needed to figure out how to deal with her and what her game was, otherwise I would just perish.

I forced my thoughts away from that, took deep breaths and meditated on the sound of falling water.

As most of the time, it helped.

I breathed deeply and let it all go. Doing myself down would not do me any good at this point; I had enough people around here that would manage that with ease and pleasure.

As I finished my shower, I felt better, though I was still hurting all over.

I towelled myself and froze for a second as I looked into the mirror. Where my face had hit the floor, I had pretty much torn off the skin and the bare, soft flesh shone through. These were more than grazes, no wonder it had hurt so badly. I moved away from the mirror, then went for some fresh clothes. I would not sleep naked around here, there was no telling if someone would push me out of bed in the middle of the night; I thought Ailith perfectly capable of such a thing.

After dressing, I went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

---

I was awoken by a loud knock on my door.

I started up immediately and said, "I am awake, come in!"

Still having a blurred sight and feeling groggy from my deep slumber, I perceived a young, human slave girl coming inside. She looked unsure and shy, and definitely too young to be in such a place. With a hushed voice, she said, "I was told to call you to breakfast. I'll be off now again."

I nodded and she left again.

I did not waste any time, got out of bed, went into the bath, brought my hair under control, brushed my teeth and then looked to it that I got into the dining hall.

I was one of the last to arrive, which I disliked immediately. I hated it to be late to anything.

Yet again, I was amazed by the degree of organisation and discipline around here. Even our places in the dining hall were fixed and our meals already sat there, which certainly prevented that we could talk to too many competitors.

As I sat down at my place and saw what was on the menu, I immediately remembered what Lisbeth had told me about the slave food around here.

She had been right, it sucked.

Because what we got was only necessary nutrition without any kind of flavour. It was just a greyish paste, and I knew that it held all the nutrients the human body needed to function. However, getting that stuff down certainly was not easy at all.

I sighed. Once more, I wished myself back to the Overlord. I knew that I would direly miss the dishes on his table in no time.

Though it was hard to eat something so bland and boring in the morning, especially because the consistency of the paste was something to get used to, I made haste, since almost all of my group were already done and leaving for the hall in which the survival training would be commenced. Only the girl from the Last Hatred was still here, and judging from the look on her face, her mind was also rather somewhere else. It shook me to see such a youngster so destroyed, though it did not surprise me one bit. The short time I had been forced spending with Thyndrak still was very clear in my mind and she had certainly left her marks on me. I did not want to imagine what that child had gone through.

Though it pained me, I had to look out for myself around here. There would be no one saving me this time if I fucked up.

Therefore, after forcing down the meal, which I knew would sustain me for the rest of the day, I got up and left for the training hall.

As I entered it, I noticed two things.

One thing were the other contestants, who looked at me as I entered. I hated being in the middle of attention, but there was little I could do right now.

The other thing was the Wych, presumably a Hekatrix like Ailith, judging from her attire, who waited with crossed arms and an annoyed look on her face.

I walked up to her and bowed to her, as etiquette demanded it, and said, "Forgive me for being so late, Hekatrix! I shall be more vigilant in the future."

Though she still stared at me coldly, something moved in her face. I just could not say what it was and whether it was favourable for me. She backhanded me across the face, which I endured silently – at last, something I could handle – and then she hissed at me, "At least you know how to behave when you fail." Shaking her head, she continued, "Have you seen the last missing one?"

I nodded and replied, look cast downward as a show of deference, "Yes, my lady, she still was in the dining hall."

The Hekatrix snarled, "Fine. I shall fetch her myself and show you all what happens if you dare to be late." With a surly wave of her hand, she shooed me to the side and stormed out of the room.

She left us with uneasy silence and they all were still looking at me.

I could not stand it any longer, sighed deeply and said, "What, are we going to kill each other with silence and gazes now?"

Nervous laughs from some of them followed that comment.

"Alright, since all of you seem to be a bit tense – no offence, though – I'll start. My name is Temira. I won't tell you from which planet I originate, you wouldn't believe me anyways." With a lopsided smile, I continued, "Before favours have shifted against me, I was the personal slave of the Overlord."

That broke the ice somewhat. One by one, they introduced themselves.

The first one to speak was the slave of the Black Myriad. He was a blonde, green-eyed, charming young man, possessing a rather skinny build. With a slight bow, he said, "My name is Cadriel and I come from a hive-world. I was a messenger inside the tower of Kyhrac."

With an arrogant smile, the toned, chestnut-haired, brown-eyed giant of the Lords of the Iron Thorn took a step forward and said, "Hector Frostfury, of the noble world of Askelphion Secundus. Those pointy-eared bastards would have never gotten me if they hadn't ambushed the ship I was on with a ridiculous superiority."

"Yeah, ambushes are what they do, genius", I thought. Hector sounded and looked like a poser to me, for I knew that Dark Eldar rarely attacked in superior numbers; that just took the fun out of it for them.

Apparently, the woman that spoke next also thought that of Hector. She was the contestant of the Blackened Tear and it was evident that she originated from a Feral World. For a woman, she was pretty muscular and lean, tall, bulky, hairy and her teeth were rather those of a wolf than a human. Her hair was wild and black. Shooting Hector a disdainful stare, she growled, "Shatra. Where I come from is irrelevant, every imperial planet is shit. What you need to know is that I don't give a fuck about all of you. I find you in the arena – I kill you." The hatred in her voice was real. This one was not fond of the Imperium or any other human being. Someone to look out for, she certainly looked like she could tear me to pieces with bare hands.

Frowning upon her words, a seemingly combat-seasoned, trained man, bearing scars and a military haircut in his brunette hair, knocked his right fist upon his breast and said, his head held up high, "Titus Ironmeadow. I am proud to say that I hail from beautiful Sovereign. And much unlike this heretic over there, I will hate eliminating you, since you are my brothers and sisters in misery." I immediately understood why he was the contestant for the Broken Sigil. He was completely oblivious to his situation, as it seemed, and he would surely be one of those that believed the lie about the prize, much to his misery. It fitted the picture of Xerathis to play a bit with mental torture there, sending someone with good chances of reaching the prize and then watch with delight as he fell into despair. Shatra snarled at him, he ignored her.

With a hard laugh, a woman who looked similar to Shatra, shook her head and said, "I am Mashthra. I won't hide from you that you are prey to me. No need for fancy words." She was from the Flayed Skull and I did not like how she looked at me. I feared that she had gotten explicit orders to eliminate me, which surprised me little.

The slave of the Baleful Gaze was a scrawny, tall man with incredibly awake eyes. With a husky voice, he said, "My name is Rogal Russ. I don't care for threats or boasting. Consider me a silent observer."

The next one to speak was a smallish, sinewy, somehow unpleasant looking man with the look of a killer in his dark eyes, who had born the sign of the Bloodied Claw. Showing a false smile on his wrinkly face and using a raspy voice, he said, "Aszukh is my name. I come from a frontier world, therefore, I know how to be careful, stealthy and how to estimate people. I can arrange myself perfectly with the prospect of a big, fat prize and that the way to it is paved with dead bodies." The way he moved gave away that he was not lying. I had the dreadful feeling that I had to look out for this one.

A hoarse laughter was to be heard from the last one, the one from the Poisoned Tongue, who had riddled my mind the most. I had seen that he had studied all of us intently and his demeanour let on that he knew very well how to size up people. I did not trust my ears as he said, "You better watch out, Black Heart girl, because I will be after you!"

He had said that in the tongue of the Dark Eldar.

Shaking his head and showing an innocent, embarrassed smile, he said, "Forgive me, brothers and sisters. I have dealt with those Xenos for so long that I have almost forgotten how to speak my own tongue. I am Pychus Deadrock, and like Aszukh here, I hail from a frontier world, Letum."

I was pretty sure that his 'slipping' had not been done out of inattention, for he stared at me and apparently tried to figure out whether I had understood him. I fought hard to keep an innocent and oblivious look on my face, and, as I saw his slightly disappointed expression, I figured I had passed that test.

Keeping myself from smiling victoriously at this point was even harder. I needed to be on my toes to not let on too much about myself in front of Pychus. I already had the feeling that he was a skilled spy and possessed a sharp mind, and I was sure that Malys had chosen him on purpose if only to find out something more about me, since I was sure she already had caught wind of me and how well I had fared so far.

Vect and Malys always and everywhere played their spy game, even with their slaves. It was unnerving, to say the least.

What I also noticed with annoyance was that not all of them were as injured as I was. Cadriel, Rogal and, for me surprising, Aszukh shared that fate, but no one else.

I had no time to wonder about that a bit more, for the Hekatrix came back and she dragged the girl from the Last Hatred with her. She had grabbed her by the hair and now hauled her along, ignoring her struggling and whining. The left cheek of the girl was swollen and she was crying – I figured our teacher had already started punishing her. But I feared that she would not be done with that.

I tried to brace myself, though I had seen quite a lot done to others around here; I now especially remembered my time at Vlokarion's and once more I realised how well he had taught me, even with this atrocious lesson.

The Hekatrix forced the girl to her knees in the middle of the loose semi-circle the rest of us were forming. Still grabbing her by the hair, she hissed, "Ladies and gentlemen! Witness our volunteer for today's lesson, Josmina!" The girl struggled, so she hit her on her already injured cheek, followed by a heart-breaking yelp. "Stop struggling!" she yelled at her. Focusing her attention back to us, she continued, "In these lessons, which I, Beltis, Hekatrix of the Cult of Strife, will conduct – and you will address me as such, you maggots – we will cover several things; I will teach you how to sneak, hide, climb, hunt and how to practice first aid on yourself. Since Josmina here volunteered so nicely, we will start with first aid lessons today, but I also figure that you will need those skills pretty soon. Your combat trainers will not spoil you." I felt her mocking gaze upon me. No wonder, though, Ailith had left her marks on me.

"Watch and learn!"

With these words, Beltis grabbed the girl tighter, switching from hair to neck, took hold of her left arm and gave her a hard push with her left knee from behind. She dislocated Josmina's shoulder with that and the girl receipted the abuse with a shrill scream.

I tried to keep my face blank, though the scream had pierced my very marrow, and quickly looked around. Each and every one of my colleagues receipted what they saw differently and it gave me a bit more insight into them.

Shatra, Mashthra and Rogal did not show the slightest reaction in their faces and did not flinch even a little bit.

Aszukh and Pychus seemed to stare in a fascinated manner at Josmina. That unsettled me greatly.

Titus and Hector seemed to be disgusted by what Beltis did.

Cadriel was apparently unsettled, to say the least. He looked like he was about to be sick.

Here I had the cold-blooded killers, the sick bastards, the righteous men and the newcomer to all of this.

Josmina sobbed spasmodically and begged Beltis both for forgiveness and to stop. Of course, the Hekatrix was not moved in the slightest by her pleas and told her to shut up. With a self-satisfied smile, she looked us over and said, "Now, who wants to try and relocate dear Josmina's shoulder?" She did not give us time to volunteer, but said, "Black Heart girl, why don't you try? And, do you have a name? Naming you after where you hail from is a bit cumbersome."

I had feared that this would come at me and I figured that this was her comeback at me for being late. I swallowed, nodded and said, "Yes, Hekatrix. My name is Temira." I stepped forward, palms sweaty, heart beating fast. It was bad enough that I had to hurt Josmina, though I would help her, but that others were watching made it just terrible.

Beltis nodded and said, "Very well, Temira, let me instruct you."

The whole instruction felt strange to me, though Beltis did a good explanation of how and where to place my hands and how to push. I had a really hard time concentrating on her words, since I also had Josmina's sobs in my ears and they shook me. That she was so young did not help at all. I had no idea why this got to me so much, since I had witnessed Vlokarion torturing out the hell out of someone. Maybe it was the desperate try of my mind to keep the rest of my ever-waning humanity, by making me feeling especially bad about a mere child being hurt.

What sickened me the most was the notion that somewhere, up high in a tower, Thyndrak most likely sat, watched and had a good laugh about how her slave got treated.

I was far too shaken and I did not understand why that was all of a sudden. Was this the last rebellion of my mind before it fell into total insanity?

I wished that I was with my master again in these moments. Everything had seemed a lot easier and clearer when I was with him.

I missed him so much.

Though I recoiled at the thought for a moment, I then shook it off. He had been a lot better to me so far. Finally, Beltis took a step back and said, "Well, Temira, let's see it, then! Remember to push hard enough, otherwise, you won't be able to push that joint back in!"

I swallowed, nodded, placed my hands on Josmina's body like Beltis had said I should – the girl looked at me, scared out of her mind and with pleading eyes – and then I gave it a try.

Of course, I failed, all I managed was to hurt Josmina even further, who gave another scream.

I distorted my face in sheer mental agony. Why did I recoil so much from hurting someone else when I had done it before? She deserved this up to a point, she had been late, but… whatever god may help me around here, she was not in her right mind and so young!

I looked around me for a second and my face distorted in sheer anger as I saw that Shatra, Mashthra, Pychus, Rogal and Aszukh smiled sardonically at my failure.

I could not keep it in. "Oh, stop smiling, you Imperial bastards! Just because some of you had the opportunity to be trained in some Imperial institution, which I never had with where I come from, there is no need to mock me about not knowing it!" I simply could not stand mockery from my own kind for something I just could not know better. I had been mocked enough in the year I had spent here, and it had been hard enough to bear it without any kind of reaction, and I just would not have it from someone who was nothing more than me around here.

Then the realisation hit me.

I just had indirectly told them that I was not from the Imperium and I was sure that at least that smart bastard Pychus got the broad hint.

That was no good; that would just make my situation even worse.

Turning back to Josmina, now angry and determined enough to give it my best effort, I pushed once more and with a sickening plop sound, her joint jumped back into its proper place.

Beltis laughed at all that and said, "Not bad for the first time, girl. Get back in line!"

I nodded and obeyed.

Cadriel and Titus stared at me like I was a Xenos. Apparently, it had shaken their belief pretty much that I was human and not from the Imperium.

Pychus smiled victoriously at me. Damn him to hell. He would surely tell Malys about it and now I had to tell my master that I had failed in keeping that bit of information from his greatest rival. That would be fun, but luckily, I had a lot of time to ponder my words.

The rest either did not care or had not understood what I had said.

Beltis continued first aid training for today, she continued with hurting all of us in different manners – cuts, dislocations, bruises – and then told us how to treat said injuries efficiently and quickly. I took in the knowledge she gave us with a lot of interest, since I knew how vital correct first aid was.

Nevertheless, I also cursed myself vividly on the inside. I had made one mistake already, and all this in the first session. I needed to be vigilant not to reveal any more than that to them.

I feared what hell I had already unleashed for me with that.

---

Two weeks had passed and arduously slowly, my body started to adjust to my training. I was feeble and in pain most of the time, since Ailith did not tune down her efforts of tormenting me one bit, but I had adjusted to that somehow. I was once more amazed what a human body could take if strained hard enough, though it was wrong to say that I got used to it.

I had not called in any favours until now, since I had simply been too spent for it and I had not trusted my body and mind to compose something fitting so far.

Therefore, though I had been tired as always, I had composed a message, which requested a favour from Lelith, and I was happy that I was not allowed to show that I could read and understand the Dark Eldar tongue, because to get the runes right with writing was surely something else and I did not trust my mind at this point to remember everything correctly. Making a mistake whilst addressing the Queen would surely have its repercussions, for I was convinced that my master would get word of that and he would certainly scold me for that once I was back.

Now I just had to ask Ailith whether she would relay it for me to her or if I could go and ask the Queen myself.

As I entered the training hall, Ailith already smiled evilly at me; I had gotten used to her doing that all the time by now, and I had stopped dreading what she would cook up for me today. I would feel it and there was nothing that could change it. Dreading did not change a thing for me, it would only make things more delicious for Ailith and I did not want to give her the additional satisfaction.

I said, "Mistress, I need to relay a message to Lady Hesperax. I would like to call in a favour from her. Could you give it to her or shall I talk to her myself? If the last option is applicable, how do I get an audience with her?"

Ailith laughed. "If you are not an Archon with too many resources to spare, getting an audience with her will be pretty hard."

I looked at her, trying to discern whether she was shitting me. After all, a favour was a favour, right?

She pulled my leg, though. "Don't look so spooked, girl! Give me the message, I shall relay it to her. I guess she will call you later this day to talk to you about it. You do know her personally and are not trying to get me into trouble? I think I don't have to mention at this point that I will make your life a real hell if you do."

I smiled falsely, thinking that she already did what she just threatened me with, and replied, "I am the personal slave of the Overlord, therefore, I had the honour of meeting her once."

Ailith nodded. "Alright, that makes sense. Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

With these words, she started pushing me around once more.

---

After my combat training session, I was done for, as usual, but I did not dare to go to bed after I had showered, for Ailith had said that Lelith might want to talk to me today. Of course, it was possible that she had lied to me to deprive me of sleep, but taking that chance and annoying the Queen was not an option.

Therefore, I waited, tired as hell, wanting nothing more than my well-earned sleep.

I dozed off at some point, but was knocked wide awake again, as the door opened and a gloating Ailith stood in the door. She came to me, pulled me out of bed, slapped me in the face and said, "She now has time for you, you undisciplined brat! How dare you go to bed!"

Now fully awake again, I rubbed my cheek and said, "I am sorry, mistress, but I fell asleep. I did not mean to, I swear!"

"Well, I suppose, we should make your days longer then, so you have a reason to fall asleep!" she mocked me.

I did not even bother begging her not to, because I knew it would not change anything.

Therefore, I followed her through the Crucibael, to Hesperax's audience chamber.

As we entered the chamber, I was surprised by the simplicity of it.

The only decoration it really held were flamboyant relievos on the walls, motives of battle and desire, chiselled with gems and white gold. The room was dominated by a spacious fireplace on the far wall, in front of which a giant divan made out of black wood, laid with seemingly zillions of carmine cushions, stood.

On said divan, the Queen lounged, gracefully and stunning as ever, clad in a discreetly decorated, yet visibly finely-made Wychsuit and she flashed a mysterious smile at me as we entered.

As it was expected of me, I dropped to my knees a few meters away from her and bowed my head.

Ailith left.

Whether Hesperax had her gestured to or not, I did not know.

As soon as the Hekatrix had left the room, the chiming laughter of the Succubus filled the room and she said, seemingly highly amused, "To your feet, slave girl! I thought we had already established how little I like over-deference."

I did as she had bid me, looked at her and said, returning her smile, "Forgive me, my lady, I thought that in front of your subordinates it would be wiser to be careful."

Hesperax's smile deepened and her sparkling eyes flashed. "Indeed. How insightful of you." I could not fight the feeling that she was mocking me on some level.

However, the smile vanished from her face after she had said that, and I sensed that playtime was over. Without any jovial inflexion, she said to me, "I have read your message. So, you want to have some combat lessons from me?" Looking coolly at me, she said, "Not like this, child, not like this."

I could not hide my dreadful surprise about that. I was sure it showed, for she laughed at me. "My, my, for being in the custody of Asdrubael for so long, you are terribly easy to spook, aren't you… then again, maybe it is because of that. Whatever the case, I meant what I said: I won't train you like this, little one. You can barely follow Ailith's instructions and lessons, why do you think that receiving training from me will do you any good? No, child, you have to get better before I deign to train you. Whether this will be through you progressing in your training with Ailith, or other means, is up to you. I will train you eventually, since I can't deny the favour, but I will only do it when you are ready. Come back to me when you think you are."

I nodded and slightly bowed to her, saying, "Yes, my lady, I shall do as you say."

With that, the audience was over and she dismissed me.

I had not expected this and while I walked back to my quarters, contently looking forward to sleeping, I ruminated on her words. Though Hesperax was mostly known for her martial prowess and speaking very little in public, I had already understood that she had the brains to match her brawns. That did not surprise me much, since I was sure that otherwise, Vect would not have taken such an interest in her.

The way back took a while, since the Crucibael was such an enormous building, and it gave me time to think. The longer I rolled her words around in my head, the more I understood what she had meant and had to admit teeth-gnashing that she was right. What good would an even more skilled teacher do me if I barely could handle the basics? I had the dreadful feeling that no matter how hard I tried and trained, that I would not be good enough for her.

I reached my quarters and smashed the door shut behind me, angry at myself and my constant failure in this whole shitshow. I had always been a 'mind over matter'-type, my cognitive qualities had always outweighed my physical, but right now, this did not help me one bit. If I did not manage to somehow boost my body, I would not stand a chance in that terrible competition. Still, it unsettled and startled me that my master had sent me here, with being one of the physical most underprivileged around here.

I jumped at the notion that I used the same word as Zuol had to describe me.

But he had been right, this I had to admit grievously.

There had to be a reason why Vect had chosen me. I had the feeling that said reason would unfold to me at some point, I just dearly hoped that it was not too late once it did.

"Think, goddammit!" I cursed to myself as I sat on the bed and buried my face in my hands.

After a minute of staring into the darkness, I started to laugh at my own silliness.

Of course.

I had already thought about that, why had I hesitated so long with doing it?

Jumping now once more encouraged to my feet, I went to the desk, sat down and started to compose a message.

I knew a Master Haemonculus, who would be a better pick to upgrade my body?

---

On the next day, in the evening, after I was beaten-up and totally spent once more, I made my way to the calling platform. I entered my code and waited, the metal phial in hand, hoping that Sakh'ur'lath would show up soon and I would get better off with him than the last time.

He took his dear time, and I was barely able to keep my eyes open.

Finally, he swooped down, landing elegantly in front of me, again folding his wings and arms, seemingly annoyed. I assumed by now that this was his normal mood.

"I hope for your sake that you have a message for me this time," he hissed at me.

I nodded slowly, careful not to overstrain my sore muscles, and presented him the phial, saying, "I need this message delivered to…" I barely stopped myself from saying 'Vlokarion'. He was presumed dead, and Vect had made it very clear that I should not tell anyone about his whereabouts. I had fucked up with enough information about me around here already, if I started spilling well-kept secrets, I was done for, no matter if I won the Carnival or not.

My palms grew sweaty.

This would be a major gamble, but I had to take it.

With only barely missing a beat, I continued, "…Maester Rakarth."

I had addressed the message to Vlokarion, asking about physical upgrades for the Carnival, so it was clear that it was not meant for Rakarth. I dearly hoped that Rakarth would be sane enough to forward the message to Vlokarion. If he was not, I was done for. That was really everything I could do to make sure that Vlokarion got it.

Sakh'ur'lath chuckled, through his strangely distorted voice it just sounded disturbing, "You really must be desperate, hatchling, if you call on that madman."

The last thing I needed right now was a salty Scourge and I really had it for today. "What, are you afraid to deliver the message to him?" I snapped.

Sakh'ur'lath spread his wings in a threatening pose and croaked at me, "Afraid?! If anything, I honour him, for he was the one that made me what I am! So, prey, you might have met him once, to be able to have him do your bidding now, and you might think that you are smart for doing it, but believe me, you have no idea about what you are getting yourself into! I have spent months with him and I know exactly what awaits you if you ask him to modify you." Sakh'ur'lath panted heavily with rage.

He had startled me with his intense reaction and the information he now had given me was highly interesting. I had not known that Rakarth had ever made Scourges and that Sakh'ur'lath had come out on top of it, was really impressive.

There was more to him than just being a Scourge, he had to be something special amongst his own kind.

Therefore, since I saw that I had overstepped my rights, I said to him carefully, "I am sorry, I did not mean to insult you, I just really had a hard day. It wasn't my place."

Sakh'ur'lath laughed at me for my meek try of an apology. Bending down onto my eye level, and getting closer with each word, he cawed at me, lowering his voice, "Of course, you are, meat, but it won't matter. You know what? Maybe I will circle his tower when you are there, to maybe sneak a peek when he is working on you. And, if I am lucky, I might even hear you scream!"

I did not back away, though his words appalled me.

With a hiss, he drew back again and turned to fly away.

"You are something special, aren't you? I mean, I know for a fact that not many could have survived what you came out on top of. You just have to be something else, when you were able to go through a transformation done by Rakarth's hand," I stated calmly.

Sakh'ur'lath looked at me from over his shoulder and cooed, his tone positively mocking, "Well! Someone has found that limited thing what you mon-keigh call a brain. Maybe you should make more use of it, suits you, hatchling."

With that, he flung himself into the sky.

Even the Scourge gave me things to wonder about.

Commorragh surely saw to it that I never stopped wondering my mind out.

---

Two and a half months had passed after I had sent my message to Vlokarion.

Over the time, Ailith varied my training, seemingly whenever I got used to one regimen, she switched to another, and after a few weeks, I could feel my body harden and toughen up. The fat on my body melted and was substituted by muscle and sinew while I grew stronger, faster and tougher. I forced back a manic, terrified laugh when I found out that the real combat training had not even started until then. Ailith started talking to me about actual combat then, correcting my form, punishing me for failing too often and making good use of her knowledge of anatomy and my emotions for that. She revealed to me why she had chosen the daggers for me "You are not large and will always be weaker than others, but by the same token, you will be faster, your comparably little weight will allow you to use ambush and subterfuge, stealth and close quarters to your advantage, all of which are things that get difficult quickly with larger weapons. Also, daggers can be thrown easily, even if there is not much space; go try that with a spear or a sword."

With that said, Ailith had me fight her in the hall while other Crucibael slaves had removed parts of the floor and put long staffs into the ground, severely limiting my degrees of freedom and movement. Just for the sake of demonstration, Ailith used a sword this time, and never had I gotten so close to actually harming her as in this exercise, as I soon realised that she could only attack from very few angles with her sword, while I literally exploited the obstacles as my cover while I waited for an opening. Of course, she punished me even harder than usual for failing to strike her under even these circumstances, but after a few weeks, she went back to her daggers as I got dangerously close.

Ailith did not let on what she thought of me or my progress, all I heard from her were insults and mockery and all that she showed me was her everlasting, self-satisfied smile. Beltis let me be most of the time; after all, she had other people to worry about, who tried to annoy her every step of the way. Though the survival sessions were also straining, I had the time to gather myself a bit in them, since I could hide behind others and was not completely alone exposed to a cruel hand and I knew perfectly how to do that, since I knew how to be courteous. The others shunned me mostly, since I was 'not one of them', and though I would have killed – oh, the irony in that – for some human interaction, I also saw the bright side of that. The less I liked my fellows in misery, the easier it would be for me to kill them in the Carnival. The only one that really wanted to have something to do with me at that point was Shatra; she did not care that I was non-imperial, and it did not surprise me, since she had made clear that she hated the Imperium. Nevertheless, talking to her was rather like trying to keep a wild animal at bay that wanted to eat you whole, so it was not really something I longed for.

I no longer knew how I managed to go onward.

Vlokarion took his time.

I dearly hoped that it was him playing his game with me, and not Rakarth having fucked up delivering the message to him. All I could do was hope and wait at this point, though I had the faint idea that if the organisers of the Carnival found out that Rakarth had withheld a message to a favour-giver, even he might be in trouble.

Or at least I hoped so.

I tried not to think too much about it, though it constantly nagged at me.

Also, I racked my brain over my third favour. How would I obtain some poison, if I did not get to Yaelindra and could not call on Vlokarion? I just had no idea, just the ever-tearing feeling that I was direly missing something.

Many things had come to my mind over the course of time; some things, I had almost forgotten, some others, that made me wonder.

For one, I had remembered that I still could ask a 'wish' from my master, for jumping at Chu'uk as he had tried to assassinate the Overlord. I pondered whether I should use it for the Carnival, since I knew that Vect knew a lot more about it than anybody else in this city, but I discarded the thought pretty quickly. A favour from the most powerful being of the whole Dark Eldar race was something to be treasured and only used if it was absolutely necessary. After all, Hesperax would train me; I had a chance to shake some information loose from her, since I was positive that she also knew more than anyone else.

Funny enough, I had also thought about the assassination attempt on me and only realised now that I had never asked my master about it afterwards. I had been caught up so much with Lisbeth that I somehow had completely forgotten about it. Nevertheless, I wondered about it now and I still was very curious about the fact that Vlokarion had been there just in time. Of course, Vect had said to me back then, before Sythrac had even arrived, that he would call for Vlokarion to check on me after my punishment, but the timing of the Haemonculus had been really impeccable. Was there something more to it, or was I just getting really paranoid here? I could not tell.

Though the training was hell, it was not the thing I feared the most. What I was scared of more than anything so far by now, was the time I spent alone in my quarters, for it kept me wondering my brains out and it gave me time to process and despair, something I did not have until now.

More than once I sat crying in my room, feeling sorry for myself, overwhelmed, desperate, losing all hope. It felt like all strength was drained from me, physically and mentally, and more than once I asked myself why I was actually pushing onward, why I did not let it all go and let myself be killed in the Carnival.

I supposed that the only thing that kept me sane and alive through these moments, was the thought of Lisbeth.

If I really valued my own life so little, I should at least care about hers. If I died in the Carnival, no one would be there for her anymore and she would have to face the horrors of Commorragh all by her own, and for the life of me, I could not be that selfish. I had gone through too much with that woman just to let her down like this. If for nothing else, I had to survive for Lisbeth, for I was aware that she needed me more than anything else.

I just dearly hoped that Vect would not tear her apart completely while I was away.

I also found myself thinking about my master a lot and I found that I dearly missed him too.

Now that I got beaten around every day in the Crucibael, I realised how extremely good he had been to me. Sure, he had tortured me, slept with me and mind-gamed me too, but I had only been tortured by him when I had made a severe mistake; when he had slept with me, he had made me enjoy it up to some point; the mind-games were something he just did, he could not really help himself in that regard. That was his nature, and I would not change it. Also, he had allowed me to eat from his table, not only the regular slave food, and he had also given me a lot of tenderness. Though his caresses had sometimes crept me out, I missed them now. The feeling of being stroked, kissed and petted was sweet after all.

Yes, I had been incredibly lucky with being allowed to be with him and now I had to see what it was like if I was not. I found that I wanted back to him and I used that thought as another incentive to push constantly forward, though I felt lost.

Thus, my time passed, wrecking my mind with so much to think about.

---

The idea came to me in the middle of the night. It hit me so hard, as I was half asleep, that I actually started upwards. My heart beat fast and I whispered, "Of course…"

There was a loophole. I would get that poison from Yaelindra herself.

How could I not have seen this?

I sighed, happy that I had found a solution to my dilemma and slept as deep as never before since I was here, in the Crucibael.

Now I only had to deal with that nasty Scourge once more.

---

I was grateful that I was allowed to sleep more than three hours for once. It gave me the calmness and clarity of mind to compose an appropriate message. I just dearly hoped that it would work. I knew that he was the only one I could trade with, since I possessed something he wanted; nobody else was interested in anything I could give, but I was perfectly aware that he wanted something I had.

It was something I was very afraid of; however, if I wanted to get the best chances for survival in that terrible game, I would have to give it to him.

Now, I needed to hurry. I had to give the message to Sakh'ur'lath soon, before the training sessions began today, and there was no telling how long he would take with finally showing up when I called him.

Therefore, I went to the calling platform and entered my calling code in the signal beacon.

Now it was nothing but the waiting game.

I dearly hoped that Sakh'ur'lath would not take too much time to come here, lest I might be late for training and then… well. Ailith just waited for an excuse to torment me mercilessly and I was not keen on giving her one on top of the usual ones. On the other hand, I figured that calling Sakh'ur'lath and then leaving before he arrived was an equally stupid idea, since the Scourge had already proven that he could be very moody, to say the least.

I was relieved to hear a sound that would make others just cower in fear: the beating of strong, gigantic wings.

I dared to look up into the sky and saw Sakh'ur'lath descending down on me, looking very much like a hawk, ready to swoop down on its prey. Considering the beaked mask, which he was wearing, his monumental, resplendent ebon wings and the clawed feet he had, it was not surprising that he made that impression.

He landed elegantly in front of me, folding his wings and sketched a mocking bow. As he did, the beak missed me by mere centimetres, but I did not back away, for I knew that showing this predator weakness or fear was a grave mistake. He did not take me very seriously or had even an ounce of respect left for me – I knew he was just following orders and if these orders were done with, I would be meat to hunt for him like every slave around here – but I had the strange feeling that if I showed him little to no fear, he would at least respect that.

Sakh'ur'lath cooed, while folding his whip-thin arms in front of his slender chest, "What can this raptor do for his future prey?" He spoke the words clearly with distaste.

I smiled at him caustically and retorted, "If you are so keen on hunting me, maybe you should propose that to my master. I am sure that the Supreme Overlord will find your proposal enticing… once I have fallen completely from grace." Going directly to Vect with such a petty request, was, if my knowledge of the lore was correct, a rather suicidal thing to do for a Scourge.

Sakh'ur'lath rasped, "Grate all you want, slave, once this is over, you better watch out."

I sighed and shook my head. "Forgive me. I don't know why I misbehave so much around you, I really should know better than that." I meant it. Why was it so hard for me to act properly with him? Why did I always try to dare him, though I knew that if he decided to get violent that I stood no chance?

He let out what could be interpreted as the sound a disdainfully snorting bird would make. "It is surprising how long you have survived as the slave of the Overlord considering how bad you do with restraining yourself." Sakh'ur'lath shrugged. "But discerning his tastes surely is something else."

I nodded and replied dryly, "You have no idea."

I jumped as he started to laugh wholeheartedly. It was such a strange and unexpected sound, that I truly could not handle it in the first second. It was the rawest and wildest laughter I had heard so far, and it took him a minute or so to gather himself again. "Honesty about the Overlord. Rare around here, I have to say." Returning to his usual grumpiness, he said, shrugging, "Well. That makes you… at least… entertaining prey." He shook his head. "Enough of that. My time is short. So, where do you want me to go?"

I ignored his remark and answered, "This is a very important message and I expect an immediate answer from its recipient. Be so kind as to return to me when you have it." Then I told him to whom the message should be delivered, he nodded, shot me one last somewhat curious look and launched himself up into the skies.

I had the feeling that I had pushed a tad more through to him today, though I could never be sure. People were in general hard to read in Commorragh, but Sakh'ur'lath made it even harder, since his mannerisms resembled those of a bird most of the time.

I did not even know myself why I wanted to befriend – for lack of a better word – this strange creature, since I had no idea if I would ever meet him again once his contract for the Carnival was over, but something in me told me that knowing someone that could bring messages rather securely – which was, admittedly, a very daring term in Commorragh – to a recipient, seemed awfully handy.

I wanted to find out what was so special about Sakh'ur'lath, and it bit me that I could not figure out whether he had dropped that piece of information about who had 'made' him because he truly was proud of his achievement, or he had done it for another reason. Maybe I would get a chance for that at some point in the future.

As I looked after him while he flew away, a queasy feeling greeted me in my stomach.

I was not sure if the one I called on now would not rather destroy than help me, but it was the best idea I had in that regard. Now I suddenly hoped that Vlokarion would still be slower to reply, for if he decided to enhance my senses, this piece of work would be a lot harder to manage than with my current body.

With that uneasy thought lingering on my mind, I hurried back to my room to get ready for today's training.

---

Oh, how he hated those mind-numbing court sessions!

However, as an Archon, he had literally no way around them, if he did not want to have his troops going full haywire and his Hierarch to overthrow him.

He thought of himself as a doer with certainly enough brains to manage the job of a thinker on the go.

A dashingly handsome doer at that.

A narcissistic smile passed his youthful face.

And none dared to tell him otherwise.

With a sigh, he reached down to the Lhamaean, who was sitting beside his left shank, huddling up against it and caressing it tenderly. Though he could barely feel her touches through the boots and gilded armour he was wearing, his imagination undertook what he could not feel and he, even more, liked imagining it than actually feeling it, although he would have her touch him later on – but in completely different places and manners. He just liked to keep one close by, as a slight entertainment, should his duty in court become too much of a pain to bear.

While he gently stroked her silky hair – she chuckled coyly in response – he delightfully took in what was around him. The air was filled with the discreet, numbingly sweet scent of a mild aphrodisiac, just like he cherished it. His Incubus bodyguards guarded the slightly elevated, lavishly decorated throne he was sitting on, his personal slave was squatting on its right side. Beyond the Incubi, he could see his usual court coterie, consisting of more Lhamaeans, some entertainers and, last and least, the everlasting, nerve-robbing bunch of sycophants, that tried to gain his favour by various means. His throne room was overbearingly decorated with finest fabrics, chasings, wall decorations in form of weapons, slain beasts, but also some live slaves, which moaned softly in pain and pleasure under the expert hands of the Lhamaeans.

Everything was just as he liked it.

But still, something was bothering him, besides the boredom of the court session.

He could not get his one-to-one with the Overlord out of his head. As one of his Circle members, it was not unusual that he had to talk to him, but one never got quite used to it, no matter how often one faced the ancient monster.

However, this time it was not the activity of talking to him that had bothered him, after all, the private conversation had made him proud, since such audiences were a rare occasion with Vect, but it was rather the contents of their talk that made him sit utterly restless today.

The Overlord had made clear to him that he possibly would get the girl for a night.

His heart and loins had pulsed happily at that.

However, it was a big if, and he had to wait. And he hated waiting.

It all depended on whether she was smart enough to think of a certain loophole and he would be the one making said loophole possible for her.

He had thought about forwarding the idea to her, since he really wanted that little bitch in his bed, but that would have gone directly against the Overlord's orders and he was neither horny nor stupid enough to do that.

His attention got focused as a squad of his Kabalites came into the room, nudging a Scourge forward. The latter hurried onwards as he beheld him, dropped to his knees a few metres before the throne and presented him a delicate metal phial.

He frowned. He had expected a message from Yaelindra, but this was not from her, of that he was absolutely sure, for the phial did not bear her seal and also the Scourge was not one of hers. It could be a dangerous trap or a rigged device or a bomb or whatever else. The means in this city to end a life were quite innumerable.

His Incubi sensed his caution and drew a tighter circle around him, just in case.

With an annoyed inflexion, he demanded, "Pray tell, messenger, whose tidings do you bring me, for I see no seal or any mark on the message you are holding? If I find that you were sent here as an assassin, I will have your ridiculous feathers plucked out one by one and then I will have you flayed by one of my most skilled torturers."

"Archon Tahvyn Nabeh Ea'nash, it is only natural that you don't perceive a seal or mark, because this message comes from a slave, who is attending the Carnival and is asking for a favour," the Scourge replied swiftly with the typical, croaking voice of his kind.

Though deep satisfaction flashed through him as he heard these words, he still was cautious and he showed nothing of his feelings to the outside. He was adept at discerning lies, but those feathered bastards were really hard to read and this one was wearing a mask on top of it all.

A mischievous idea hit him. Smiling sardonically, he spoke up and said, "Does no one around here have the loyalty and dedication to open the message for their Archon?"

Now the sycophants were asked.

With a satisfied grin, he watched as one stepped forward immediately – he was apparently the quickest of those idiots – bowed so low that his nose almost touched the ground and fawned, "I will do it for you, my Archon!"

Tahvyn told him to speed up with a harsh wave of his hand.

Drinking in the waves of fear from his admirer, Tahvyn watched carefully as he took the phial from the clawed hands of the Scourge, opened it and then let the small roll of paper, which had been embedded in the phial, slide into his visibly shaking hands.

Tahvyn was almost disappointed as the sycophant did not drop dead after a minute or so. He sighed and gave a slight nod, and one of his Incubi marched forward and took the note from the baffled youngster.

As the Incubus came to him to hand him the note, Tahvyn said, with a dismissive hand gesture, "Fine, step back, I shall remember your face for this!" Which he would certainly not. It took more than one, tiny service to impress him.

However, the sycophant was happy, bowed and strutted back to his equally worthless fellows, bathed in misplaced pride.

Carefully, he opened up the small roll of paper and narcissistic happiness flashed through him as he had read it.

She had been smart enough.

Chuckling evilly and appeased to himself, he muttered under his breath, "Now I got you exactly where I want you."

In high spirits, he turned to his personal slave and demanded, "Fetch me my writing kit!"

She got up, bowed to him in deference and hurried away. He stared at her rear blatantly and thought about whether he would fuck her today or not. It was an interesting decision indeed at this time, because on one hand had the news he just had received made his lust cut capers and he really was in the mood, especially with a slave, to imagine it one last time before the actual thing was happening, on the other, he was not sure whether it would be wiser to spare himself until his desired bitch arrived, so he could spend his built-up lust on her, since she would be a unique treat.

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

And patience.

His worst virtues.

At least, he would not have to wait long.

"Soon," he growled to himself, flashing his immaculate, shark-like teeth.

---

Offering Ea'nash my body had been the only way for me to get to Yaelindra. Only now I understood why Hesperax had emphasised her words so strangely back then, when she had talked about Archons with a competitor and the ban on calling on them.

The rules of the Carnival clearly stated that I was not allowed to call on an Archon, who also had a competitor in the Carnival, myself. There had been no mentioning of that it was forbidden to ask such a person if you had someone who would do it for you. And since I knew that Ea'nash and Yaelindra were close, it was the most reasonable shot to take and also, I was totally aware of the fact that Ea'nash wanted to sleep with me since he had seen me the first time.

The only problem that could come up, was that Vect could be displeased with my course of action, for I was not delusional enough for one second to think that the Overlord would not keep a close eye on me, even if I was away from him. After all, I seemed to be an – at least – entertaining diversion for the old monster, and if I won the Carnival, I was sure that he would want to keep me around for a little longer.

I just could not estimate how he would react if he reacted at all. I just dearly hoped that he did not mind and that it would not be so that the first thing he would do to me if I came back, was to punish me for offering something to another Archon which was his to offer. On the other hand, if I was in deep, so was Ea'nash, after this point. And this thought gave me some twisted satisfaction.

Ea'nash's reply had been quick and short and it annoyed me that Sakh'ur'lath had only deposited it for me, for I had missed one chance of talking to him. The Archon had agreed to my proposal and had already specified a time and place for our 'tête-à-tête'; he gave me a week's time, in which he demanded that I was to be made and kept immaculate – of course, he would not settle for a beaten-up and bruised version of me to sleep with – and he had specified a place and time where I would be picked up by his men and brought to his palace. I had shown the message to Ailith, to inform her of my absence and about the way I was to be treated and though she had not liked it one bit, to put it mildly, and had left some foreboding threat that she would make my life a living hell once I was back, she, of course, had not been able to do anything but acknowledge the fact. After all, the word of an Archon was way above the one of a 'mere' Hekatrix.

I cherished this week, since it gave me new strength and a bit of a break from all the pushing around in the Crucibael. Though I enjoyed the break, I also was not naïve enough to think that I would not need every last ounce of strength for Ea'nash. I had no idea what would await me in detail, but I expected that it would involve not an inconsiderable amount of pain and possibly mind-wrecking pleasure.

As the day drew nearer, I felt that I got more nervous about it than I should have.

Then it was here.

This was the day where my mind and body would once more be subjected to their breaking points. I tried to make myself look good, since I was sure that he would like it and tried to keep as calm as possible, though I was scared out of my skull when I tried to imagine what I would experience tonight.

As it was usual among human women, I was not satisfied with the result, but I let it be at some point, since I was sure that I never would be. And, so far, Ea'nash had never seen me at my very best.

With weak knees, I went to the landing platform where I would be picked up and was surprised to find that a small vessel already waited there for me. A squad of Kabalite warriors in the colours of the Black Heart waited in front of it. As I drew into sight, one of them, that was slightly more adorned with spiky decorations, a Sybarite, as I knew, stepped forward and said to me, his voice distorted by the vox-caster of his helmet, "We are here to bring you to Archon Ea'nash. Follow me!"

I nodded and obeyed, happy that I did not have to talk, since my mouth was so dry because of nervousness, that I was sure that all I would have managed was a voiceless croak. Then, they led me into the flyer.

The journey to Ea'nash's part of Corespur was fairly short, since the spire on which the Crucibael stood, was a neighbouring spire of Corespur. However, the way felt like ages to me, since I was so eaten up by feebleness and fear.

It was an uneventful journey, to say the least. After we had landed again, I was nudged out of the flyer, into the massive tower, along some dimly-lit hallways – it was an unnecessarily long way, as it seemed to me – and finally we halted in front of a specially adorned and decorated door. The Sybarite opened the door for me and motioned with his head inside. As I did not move immediately, he growled, "Get inside! The Archon hates it to be kept waiting." Again, I just nodded and obeyed.

I gulped and tried to suppress my trembling as I stepped into Ea'nash's quarters. I immediately realised that they were lavishly decorated and decadently furnished, as it was to be expected from a Trueborn.

I was utterly surprised that I was not greeted by his leering smile, but rather by Aenid. However, she did not look happy at all and said to me, her voice a nervous hush, "We don't have much time. I'm not allowed to be here. So, do me a favour and don't tell him that I was here. Got it?"

I nodded and started, "Got it. But, Aenid, what…"

"No time to explain. Just listen. Undress. Loosen your hairstyle. Sit on the bed. And then, wait for him. When he is here, he will most likely kiss you. Don't do anything to disturb that kiss, be submissive. After that, when he starts playing with you, resist him a bit. He loves that. And prepare yourself mentally for a threesome. It might happen…" She shortly pressed her lips together, as if she was reluctant to continue, but then did, "…with me. But I'm not sure."

I looked at her in disbelief, "He would want us to do that?"

"Yes. The thought of having his little slaves playing with each other arouses him. But, as I said, I'm not sure, because he digs you so much. It could also happen that he would not want to share you. And now, I have to go. And… good luck."

Aenid turned to go, but I grabbed her and hugged her tightly. I felt that she went stiff for the first few seconds, her body apparently rejecting the touch, but then she relaxed. Only now I realised how tense and stressed this girl truly was; her demeanour was completely different. However, was it surprising?

"Thank you so much, Aenid," I said to her.

She replied, her voice breaking in tears (I assumed she really enjoyed being for once touched with true feelings and no malice behind the act), "You're welcome, sis."

Letting go of her again, I asked, puzzled, "But why are you helping me? This is an awful risk for you to take!"

Aenid smiled at me, open, but sad, tears in her eyes, and said, "I have my orders and reasons. No time to explain!" Then she drew away from me and fled the room.

There I was, alone with the dread of the things that were to come for me. I shortly closed my eyes, took some deep breaths and then gathered myself. I was aware that Ea'nash would engulf me like a tornado. The question was whether this thing would be somehow enjoyable for me.

Reluctantly I undressed and loosened my hairstyle, just as Aenid had told me. I also sat on the bed and then I waited.

---

Tahvyn Nabeh Ea'nash was pacing like a tiger in his personal audience chamber. He had been like this the whole day, since it was the one when he finally would get his hands on the Overlord's bitch. Tahvyn had never been much of a waiter, it just tore him apart to exercise patience.

And it showed.

His throne room was utterly quiet today, no coy whispering of Lhamaeans could be heard, no hot-headed boasting of some foolhardy sycophants and no wailing of slaves.

He had thrown them all out.

Tahvyn had shouted at them like he was out of his mind, because they all had just annoyed the hell out of him, and he was sure that he had been clearly heard throughout the whole tower, which the house Ea'nash owned in Corespur.

Well, he had thrown most of them out. The slaves had served for his amusement for a while and he had tried to find some peace and refreshment in tearing their bodies apart and drinking their souls, but the sweetness had waned too quickly altogether.

It was something he noticed in general. Things that had enticed and satisfied him greatly only years ago, were now bleak and dull to him. He felt the maddening pull of nauseating ennui on him, the thing he had heard so much about, yet never believed that it would hit him too, someday. Tahvyn felt that he was getting older. And though he would never have admitted it, not even under the most mind-breaking torture, he was afraid. Very, very afraid.

With an annoyed hiss, he tore his mind off those thoughts and let his eyes wander over what was left of his usual court. There were his Incubi, of course, but as usual, their demeanour revealed unnervingly nothing of what they might be thinking or feeling – if they felt anything at all. Tahvyn had started to doubt that by now. Also, some completely irrelevant slaves were here, who cleaned the remains of the late torture slaves off the walls and floor. Though he enjoyed rummaging in somebody else's innards, he liked to keep things clean afterwards. And, last, but in this case not least, there was his personal slave, kneeling, as usual, beside his throne. With a cruel smile, he acknowledged that he could clearly see the fear in her eyes, though she tried hard to hide it. Well, she most certainly had never seen him so unrestrained, so it was not surprising that she was scared, possibly afraid of what it might mean for her; however, once again, he could not come around thinking that she was a curious, little thing. Tahvyn had had so many personal slaves before; all had been as young as her – but very few had been as tough and strong as her.

His smile deepened as he thought about what he had already done to her – and as he did, he took his pick of what he would do to the one that would arrive here anytime soon.

Enraged again, he also discarded that thought.

There could be no picking done beforehand – he had to see and feel for himself what would torment that bitch the most, what her body was most responsive to, because there was one thing that was certain: he would not let her off easily for what he would be doing for her in return. Though it pained him that he was not allowed to sincerely torture her – the Overlord had been crystal clear of what would be due for him if he dared to maim or even break her – he was confident that he was well-versed enough in sexual torture to give her a good amount of physical and mental torment, without disfiguring her body or entirely breaking her mind.

Oh, she would break up to a certain point and would not walk away from this entirely unchanged – after all, he wanted her to shamefully succumb to him after he had plunged her mind and body into maddening pleasure again and again – but she would not go insane. Though he had had little opportunity to spend time with her and to get to know her, he knew a strong spirit when he saw one. And that girl was an astounding mountain of willpower – Vect's personal slaves usually did not last that long in such a pristine condition. There was something about her that made all minds around her inclined towards her, up to a certain point. Even the old monster seemed to be a bit lenient towards her, which was something that was completely unheard-of. But, for the life of him, he could not figure out what it was and why it was.

Tahvyn had to admit that he had only seen it once the second slave, the friend of the first one, had been introduced. She was a perfect, classical example of Vect's slaves – scared, unsure, subdued and so nervous that she made a million mistakes, giving the tyrant oh-so-many reasons to punish her. She simply lacked the special quality or spirit or whatever it was of her friend. Tahvyn doubted that she would make it far. Then again, maybe she had only been introduced to break the other one. Who was he to try to figure out the Overlord's schemes? That was a task most impossible.

Tahvyn was catapulted out of his thoughts, as the door of his audience chamber opened. His heart skipped a beat, since he expected a messenger to tell him that his prize had arrived in his lair. However, his face darkened as he saw who was entering his throne room.

It was his father, Adrahasis Fahrrior Ea'nash.

Without any greeting or any form of courtesy, Tahvyn snapped, "What do you want?"

Flashing a false smile, his father replied with his smooth voice, "My, my, son! Is this the way you greet your beloved father?"

Tahvyn snorted. "I sincerely doubt that this is a courtesy visit, as I know that you don't do courtesy visits. So, since I am busy, I can only ask you again: what – do – you – want? And make it short!" It made him even angrier, as he stared into the ancient face of Adrahasis, that he had to admit that he had his looks from his hated father. For his age, Adrahasis was still a very formidable sight and he made no pretences about using said looks to his advantage. However, Tahvyn knew all too well what kind of a hideous monster lied beneath this smooth surface; he had seen enough of said monster during his education.

What possibly enraged him even more, was that he could not yet get rid of his father, and they both knew it. Adrahasis had been in the Overlord's Circle before him and, therefore, he still was highly prized by Vect himself and still a powerful ally, since Adrahasis still held the power of his house. Killing him off would just mean to invoke a very thorough and unpleasant investigation as to the how and why of his death. This was nothing Tahvyn needed right now; he still had to work on his plans to get rid of Adrahasis and make them subtle enough to not draw the Overlord's gaze onto him.

Yet, Tahvyn had to admit – but, only to himself – that Adrahasis had earned the respect he was given. All he had done throughout his whole life had been in accord with his biggest goal: to cement his house's grip on his Circle place, by ensuring that when he was unfit for the position, that someone worthy and of his own bloodline inherited the place – without being killed off, which was a major trick around here, as was visible by the fate of the old and late Archon Zuol. His house had also had its place for a long time in the Circle, but it was customary that daughters and sons killed their fathers and mothers for the place. The course of action of the house Ea'nash was a most unusual one in the Dark City, but the house itself was also a very unusual one. They barely resorted to blunt, direct violence when it came down to establishing their position; their speciality was well-planned and masterly executed ambushes, mostly executed by others, who either got blackmailed or manipulated into realising them, so tracing any evidence back to the house itself was mostly impossible.

So it had ever been, and so it would always be.

To invoke the wrath of the house of Ea'nash meant to invite a very subtle, yet extremely fitting form of punishment and death.

And Tahvyn was only alive because he had been the only one of his siblings who had met his father's outrageously high standards.

Before he had been allowed to take his father's place, as Adrahasis had felt that he was no longer fit to serve the tyrant in the required manner, Tahvyn had gone through a series of mind- and back-breaking trials, devised by Adrahasis and Vect. It had been on the same day that he was anointed Archon and Circle member in one go. He had never fully recovered from said trials and they surely had left him changed forever.

Tahvyn tore his mind off those things again. Remembering those trials was not pleasant at all.

"I just wondered what made you shout so loud that I could hear you in my chambers on top of the tower? Mind that such unrestraint does not suit your position, Tahvyn," Adrahasis scolded him.

"I am done with listening to your lectures, father. If you just came down here to pester me with your empty lessons and words, let me tell you that you picked possibly one of the worst days for that. I am very short on patience today, to put it mildly," Tahvyn hissed.

Not impressed at all by his son's hot temper, Adrahasis smiled and continued, "Oh, I see! So, is this yet again about the escapades of your loins, Tahvyn?"

Tahvyn bared his fangs at that.

Adrahasis chuckled. "Seems as if I was right." Within the blink of an eye, he let drop his falsely-jovial attitude and shot a cold, hard stare at his son. "I know about your interest in the Overlord's slave and I know that you get her today. If you dare to blow this, meaning you dare to break Vect's currently favourite toy, I will make sure that you will vanish from the face of High Commorragh. Are we perfectly clear on that?"

"Do you really think that I am intimidated by your empty threats, father? Like it or not, the Overlord and I have already made an arrangement in this and other matters, an arrangement, which you need to know nothing about. Do you want to make me vanish? Fine. But keep in mind that I am no longer just a faceless nobody; I have proven my worth to the Overlord time and again and as far as I remember, you have been much older the first time he deigned to talk to you one-to-one. So, father dear, I ask you: are you willing to take the chance of Vect's wrath if you make me vanish?" Tahvyn snarled and stared Adrahasis straight into the eye, without an ounce of fear.

Reading Adrahasis was extremely complicated, since he was one of the most composed specimens in this city, but Tahvyn had his good amount of practice. Mentioning his one-to-one had unsettled his 'beloved' father, for he clearly had not known about it. And not knowing what they had discussed, made him even more unsure.

Now was the time to push further. "So, great Adrahasis Fahrrior Ea'nash, in your place I would start asking myself whether I should be so sure about my position and standing any longer and whether favours have not shifted against myself. And now, leave! You have stolen enough of my time!" Tahvyn boomed.

Now also Adrahasis bared his fangs, looking very much like an ancient version of his handsome son and he hissed, "Don't think that I won't get behind your oh-so-great secrets!" With that, he turned on his heels and stormed out of the throne room.

Tahvyn's heart pounded heavily as Adrahasis had left. This had been certainly a major victory against his old man; too bad that only very few people had been around to see it. But, for now, the doubt would start nagging at his father's mind; and this was a lot more than Tahvyn had achieved in the last five years.

This glorious moment just got intensified for him as the awaited messenger came in, fell to his knees before him and said, "Archon, your expected delivery has arrived. What is to be done with it?"

Tahvyn's gloating smile seemed to shine like one of the Ilmaea in the sky – bright, yet twisted – as he answered, "Bring her to my quarters – but take your time."

The messenger acknowledged this command with a bow, then got up and hurried away.

Another mischievous thought hit him in these seconds. He gestured for his personal slave; she hurried to his side, obedient as ever. With a hushed voice, she said, "Yes, master?"

"I have a very special task for you, my dear. You will now go to my quarters and await the other one. Give her instructions on what to do, but tell her that you did it on your own, without my permission. I want to see how she reacts to that. Then, prepare the usual with instructions for her in the slave's bathroom," he said. With delight, he inhaled her dismay about being forced to lie to the other slave; it had not escaped Tahvyn that they had bonded pretty quickly on the one occasion they had met. Now making her betray that bond would bind her closer to him and punish her a bit for bonding with the other slave without asking for his permission first.

And, if all went as he expected it, he would have created an opportunity for him to punish the other one, for he was pretty sure that she would try and shield his slave from him.

His slave bowed and acknowledged his command by saying in a pained manner, "Of course, master." Then, she hurried away.

Not much more waiting to be done now.

Tahvyn calmed himself. After all, he did not want her to see how direly he wanted her and how much his feelings were perturbed even by the thought of finally having her.

After he had sufficiently calmed down, he made his way to his quarters, smiling absolutely satisfied to himself.

---

I waited for about two minutes, because then the Archon stormed into the room. His eyes glistened with malicious glee and his vile, yet utterly pleased smile bode ill for me. However, he did not storm to me and went for me like I had expected, but he rather halted and looked at me, slowly folding his arms in front of his breast, tilting his head, saying, "Well, well, hasn't my slave instructed you just nicely!"

I tried not to show any reaction to this, because I expected a trap and replied, "She didn't. Do you really think I need her help to know what you like best?"

His eyes narrowed. "You are good, I have to give you that. Most would have believed you. Too bad that I know for a fact that she did." He lowered his voice to a dangerous growl, "So don't you dare to lie to me again!"

I instantly realised that I was in danger and replied submissively, "Of course, my lord, I beg your forgiveness. But still, I have a suggestion to make, if I may?"

With relief I saw that he relaxed again, this terrible smile again graced his features and he stated, "Go ahead, I might like it."

"My lord, you should punish me for lying to you, and leave Aenid out of it. She just did what any good slave should have done for her master: trying to maximise his pleasure, even if it is through another slave."

Ea'nash laughed with a snort and said, "Damn, I can totally see why the Overlord likes you. You, my sweet thing, have learned your lessons very well. You are one little, silver-tongued devil, aren't you!" Chuckling softly, he came to me, smoothly moving, pulled me to my knees with grabbing me at the chin and whispered to me, while he still held me, "But let me educate you: your clever words won't change my mind. Ever. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly, my lord."

I now discovered a side of Ea'nash I had not yet seen in him.

Relentless dominance.

Until now he had been playful, toying with me. However, now he showed me that he was an Archon and as such he expected that his commands were followed without reluctance and hesitation. I realised that I had to be a lot more careful than I had originally anticipated.

Ea'nash tilted his head, bringing his lips close to mine and as they almost touched, he whispered, "Good girl." Then he closed the remaining distance.

Now he drew me into the kiss Aenid had warned me about. This kiss was even more intense than I had imagined. Though I had expected it, he did not French-kiss me, but started out slowly. At first, he only let his lips caress mine, then he started to apply some pressure. He let go of my chin, but let his hand glide into my hair. His other hand laid itself on my bare back, the cold of his metal gauntlets made me flinch and I shuddered as he let the sharp tips run down my spine. With this, my body was covered in goose-bumps. Ea'nash was gentle, but determined. His kiss felt stunning, but my thoughts were with his hand, which now gently stroked over my side and then rested upon my hip. He gently pressed against my hip and I knew what he wanted. I slowly started going down on the bed, he followed me without breaking the kiss. The deeper we went, the more intense the kiss got. The Archon let go of my hip again and showed me through gentle and subtle touches how I was to position myself.

I flinched and exhaled sharply as I finally lay fully on the bed and he laid himself upon me, for some spikes and blades of his armour dug into my flesh. His one hand still was in my hair, his other gently caressed my thigh and he gave me a very passionate deep kiss. I returned it as well as I could, though the pain, which shot through me with every breath I took, made it not that easy for me. However, I was thankful that I did not sustain injuries at my breasts and genitals.

Ea'nash kissed me for quite the while, profoundly, passionately and he showed me very closely how much he enjoyed all of it – my response and my pain. After a while, which felt like hours, in which we had done nothing but kissing each other, he stopped and drew slowly a bit away from me, eyes closed. With a small smile on his moist lips, he said, "Better than I had imagined it." He opened his eyes, looked deep into mine and I was aware that he was able to see my discomfort. Lost in thought, he said, "I had to know how well you handle this – and you lived up to my expectations."

He made me gasp in pain as he drew one of the sharp tips of his fingers through a wound, took some blood with that and licked it off, seemingly utterly concentrated. I knew better than to say something now, as I knew that the taste of my blood was of utter importance and disturbing him while tasting it would be a fatal mistake. I was relieved that he closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he did it, for it meant that he liked what he had tasted. On one hand, this was good for me, for it just heightened his pleasure even more, on the other I was sure that I would lose some blood.

Ea'nash opened his eyes again and licked his lips with relish. He did not say a thing, rather bent down again towards my body and I gasped delightfully as he closed his mouth around my left nipple. Without hurting me with his teeth, he caressed me with his tongue and lips there, mimicking what he had done with my mouth only minutes ago. I felt the hot desire shoot through my body as he did this and I was somewhat ashamed as I felt that I got aroused.

However, it was only a short caress; it rather had been a brief tasting than some actual arousal. Ea'nash uttered an utterly pleased and relished sound and said, "Mmh, even sweeter than I thought. This will be one of the most enjoyable nights I have ever had."

I looked at him confused as he got up again in one fluid motion. He saw my confusion, chuckled shortly and said, "First things first, my dear. I need to undress and get a shower first. The latter counts for you too, since I like my playthings utterly clean. Leave this room, go left and then enter the first door on the right. There you will find the slave's bathroom. I am sure that my personal slave has left some instructions for you."

I nodded and got up. I did not even think about taking my clothes, for I was sure that this would have only insulted him.

I was not surprised, but had to yelp as I passed him and he smacked my arse pretty hard, since he still wore his metal gauntlets. I halted in my pace, smiled at him coyly over my shoulder and said, "Let me guess – more of that later on?" Though I was shivering on the inside, I tried to keep as gamy and casual as possible towards him.

Ea'nash chuckled, drew me again against him and kissed me again, his hands at my throat and in my hair, his tongue exploring my mouth deeply. Though the kiss was smoking passionate and wild, he ended it rather shortly and said, his hand still at my throat, slightly squeezing it, "Don't tempt me, little one." He chuckled. "Now, go!"

I obeyed.

I was relieved that the corridor was empty as I made my way to the bathroom. Being seen naked by strangers was someone I still had not adjusted to. I had not forgotten this short time when the Overlord had forced me to stay naked in his quarters. It just added a level of humiliation to my existence that I could not bear too well.

I entered the bathroom and found that it was also quite spacious and luxurious, considering it was the slave's bath. It contained a washing basin, a toilet, a quite spacious shower and also one of those mysterious barrels with the ducts in them. I also found a note, presumably written by Aenid, which explained what I was to do.

Therefore, I stepped into the shower and did as I was told, keeping my hair dry, using the exact shower gel and skin conditioners which I had been instructed to use by the note – this was not as easy as it sounded, since there was a variety of things to be found; apparently Ea'nash had a lot of different tastes for different occasions. By this time, I felt lucky that Vect apparently liked to keep things simple in that regard.

After I was done and dried, I threw the towel into the barrel, as instructed, applied some oil, which made my skin utterly soft and apparently sweet to taste, and then I went back to Ea'nash's quarters.

I was not surprised to find him already waiting for me there, half sitting, half lying relaxed and stark-naked on the enormous leather couch in his quarters, which had been covered with a sheet and some soft-looking towels. As it was with all Dark Eldar, there was not an ounce of fat on his body and he was nicely trained, but lither than Vect. What was an unusual sight, was that he now wore his hair down, which showed me how dense and long it was. I fancied his body and had to admit that he looked pretty dashing, as he smiled at me and had his black eyes transfixed upon me, softly swaying a wine glass in his hand. Ea'nash took a sip, then patted the place beside him and said to me, "Come, my dear, sit!"

I obeyed him and came to his side, and was barely surprised as he drew me against him, forcing my head onto his chest. I could feel every single muscle in his body and I could not help the goose-bumps from coming as he gently ran his fingers over my side.

Somewhat shyly I laid my hand upon his belly, returning the gentle strokes I received from him. It almost felt like I was with a lover, not with a pure sadist that would treat me like his toy and possibly rip me apart anytime soon.

After a while of gentle stroking and silence, I said, "I really have to ask: are you going to drag Aenid into this too?"

Ea'nash took another sip of his glass, which was by now almost empty, and contemplated, "Aenid… Aenid… Oh, now I remember! This is the name of my personal slave, right?"

I jumped on the inside, realising that it was not normal that Dark Eldar masters cared about the names of their slaves. I said, approving, "Yes, my lord."

He chuckled. "Has she told you that I might?" he asked.

"Yes." I was done lying to him, for I was not fond of pissing him off.

"I see. Hmm, it seems as if I have really trained her well. But the answer is no, my love, I won't bring her into this." I heard him putting the glass on an end table that stood beside the couch, then he grabbed me at my nape and pulled me upwards to his head, so I faced him directly. He whispered to me, while gently running his fingers over my cheek and still holding me at my nape, "I want you alone for me tonight. I won't hide from you that I have longed for this for quite some time."

I smiled and said, "That much was evident."

He slapped me in the face for that comment. "You insolent kid!" he hissed at me. However, his anger was not sincere, because he started smiling right after that and said, "Ah well, I guess it was evident. I did not put much effort into hiding it, now didn't I?" He closed in on my mouth with his, but before he kissed me, he said, "Go ahead with your cheekiness. I might like it."

Then he once again pressed his lips onto mine.

It was not the first time I fell unconscious in the end.
But it was the first time I was shown untamed passion around here.
And once more, I was a bit closer to total insanity.

---

I hope it now is clear why I took so long with that chapter. Piece of work, that one!
Expect the next chapter to be equally long.
So much to write, so much to write...

On Adrahasis Fahhrior Ea'nash:
Some of will be wondering about his strange ways, but let me try it with an explanation.

This machination does 2 things for Vect:

1. Having Tahvyn in the Circle, who was more or less hand-picked, gives him utter control over Tahvyn and he can be a 100% sure that Tahvyn will obey him and will be loyal to him. Hence, he knows that he has Tahvyn, who sincerely hates his father, to keep an eye on Adrahasis. So, if Adrahasis should decide to act up, Vect will know of it immediately, since Tahvyn is just waiting for a chance to get rid of his old man.

2. In return, by letting Adrahasis keep his life and house and giving him what he wants and know him all too well, he knows that he has another quite loyal ally there, who is in the position he is now in because he wants to be there and will do anything to keep it hat way. Hence, Adrahasis also controls Tahvyn, because if Tahvyn fucks up, this will eventually fall back on Adrahasis, since he has trained him.

So, all in all, the house Ea'nash is completely under Vect's control and if he wants it, he can have his fun by telling one to kill the other, and watch the fireworks as the house tears itself apart in one, bloody family war. Therefore, he has control and a means of amusement should he tire of the situation.

As always, dear readers, I would very much appreciate reviews and opinions, whether public or per PM!
Patience for the next one, possibly as much as for this chapter. As I said, will be another moster to write.

I know this story progresses terribly slowly, but doing a good job besides facing real life, is not always easy. ;)