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.

24. Chapter 23 - The Real Deal

Hello my dear readers,

First of all: Happy Holidays! I thought I gift you another chapter.
I hope that all of you and your loved ones are well, even though 2020 is a crazy-ass year. I hope that you make it through this time and I wish you all the best!

Again, huge thanks go to my beta, SindelV and my wonderful reviewers, though there are few!
I know, with the situation as it is, people have other worries than commenting on a story of a lone writer, who only updates very slowly.
But I still have to admit that it broke my heart that so few of you deigned to leave me some words. :'(
I don't mean to come off as whiney, but like many people out there, there is little I have to laugh about currently and your reviews, even if they are just a few words, lighten my day. Also, your words are the only thing that lets me know whether I did a good job or not and if there is something I missed or I could improve.

So, please leave some words for me to read? :( You would make a person with anxiety very happy!

To my scarce reviewers:

Grocamol: Glad that you liked it and found it thrilling! Yes, the fight scenes were split 50/50 between my hubby and me. It makes me proud that you enjoyed them! And no, no psyker stuff.
Amir-05: Oh, those are my regular updating times, I'm afraid. Can't changed that. But I am glad that you left me some kind words!
bigwoof: Thank you, as always, my friend. i'm glad you still enjoy it.

Well, that's it from me, for now.

Stay safe and healthy out there.

Love,
Shâtî

---

Chapter 23

The real Deal

"What do you want?
Your time here with me will be short, so employ it wisely."
— Supreme Overlord Asdrubael Vect

SLOWLY, LIMPING AND leaving a trail of blood, I came out of the arena. The heavy, enormous and wrought-iron gate snapped shut behind me with a somewhat final thunderclap.

Masses of Drukhari now greeted me with roars that would have deafened anyone, and since I was so feeble, I even felt concussed by them. The ranks of the stands around me were filled to the brim with this bloodthirsty, deranged crowd. I witnessed it all in a strange sense of slow-motion, their sanguineous faces, torn between their sincere cheering for my victory and their desire to eat me alive. I knew that every single one of them would have given a lot to taste my blood, to inhale this delicious odour of pain, life-fluid and sweat, for I had proven that I was to be counted amongst the strongest slaves and strong slaves were delicious meals.

They enjoyed every single one of my arduous, rattling breaths and slow, sluggish heartbeats.

I held the glowing, perfectly sculpted crystal ball with my left arm and it was coated in a crimson spider-web of my blood that flowed over it from my injuries. In my right I still held one of my blood-coated daggers, my hand gripping it tightly; I still was expecting some kind of trap, some kind of attack, anything…

Yet, there was nothing there anymore. I had done it, I had survived. Nevertheless, I had not fully grasped the thought at this precise moment.

Without taking notice of the cheering and screaming crowd, which, as I noticed, only consisted of low-ranked Dark Eldar, I limped along the aisle that the stands left for me. My way ended at a pavilion, in which the three Succubi of the Wych Cult of Strife were seated, each of them more beautiful, more exquisite than the other. Of course, Lelith Hesperax sat in the middle, and despite her two rivals, she did not smile at me. Her expression was blank; there was no telling what she might be thinking about.

I halted in front of them, some metres away, and threw the crystal ball to Hesperax. She caught it with deadly elegance and a slight smile graced her stunning features. I fell to my knees in the necessary show of respect, looking at her with only half-open eyes and said, slurred and profoundly exhausted, "I'm done, your highness."

She gave me a slight nod in acknowledgement and replied, "Very well, slave girl. You may go and rest. You have earned it."

I bowed my head in answer; I did not have the strength to do anything else. With that, I got up again with a grunt and a lot of strain and left the pavilion again, forced a smile onto my features and waved shortly at the crowd. I limped past the seat of the Succubi, entering the bowels of the Crucibael through a small door.

Inside, I was greeted by a team of slaves, who immediately caught me as I fell. My strength failed me. Everything spun around me. With my dimming sight, I noticed that there was also a Haemonculus here, his face covered up to the nose with a mask, undoubtedly to patch me up, and as he whispered to me, I recognised his voice immediately, "Hello, Temira! Let's see that we keep those enhancements up and running, shall we?"

Vlokarion's cheerful chuckle accompanied me into unconsciousness.

---

I awoke… strangely. I felt weird. I was utterly confused. It felt so unreal. What was this feeling?

I lay there a while, eyes closed, warm darkness engulfing me.

Then I realised it.

I felt… good. I felt pain-free.

My stomach grew cold as I realised that I had not felt like this for the whole last year.

A soft chuckle tore me out of my thoughts. "My, my, for someone who just won the Carnival, you don't look very happy, child."

I knew that voice (and that smell, as I realised) and smiled. As I opened my eyes, I beheld Vlokarion, who perched beside the bed I was lying in on his elongated spine. "Does it really matter?" I gave back with a sigh. Also, I realised that I was back in my small quarters in the Crucibael. Somehow, the familiar surroundings calmed me down.

He chuckled again. "That is a question of perspective. For your future, it matters. For Commorragh, it matters not," he explained.

"Just as I thought. All a diversion for the masses, eh?" I said.

Vlokarion grinned. "Of course! The old carrot-and-stick approach, if you will. But I am not surprised that you figured that out anyways."

"I would be pretty naïve if I had not. I've been here for far too long to not understand that anything I do to impress, doesn't really matter. It is just for balancing the scales a bit in my favour, nothing more," I gave back.

"Yes, but that makes you a good slave, Temira, as I already told you," Vlokarion smiled.

I took it calmly that he stroked my hair. In fact, I found that I enjoyed it.

"Ah, pity, that our time is quite limited here. Even after all this time, I can't shake the feeling that I enjoy your company, my dear. But my work here is done. You will be up and about in a few days; the slaves are instructed. Your injuries were severe, but nothing that would actually challenge me. At least, the assassin did me the favour to not use splintering weapons this time…" he said, trailing off into thoughts.

"Thank you, as always, Maester. However, a question, if I may?" I asked.

"Hmm? Oh, why not?" Vlokarion indulged me.

Maybe he knew something about what the bounty hunter said about High Commorragh. Even though the ancient Haemonculus resided in the Undercore, I was sure that he had his eyes and ears everywhere.

"The assassin said something about changes in High Commorragh. Do you know anything about it?" I wanted to know.

"Hmm… there has been some commotion in the ranks of the Black Heart, as far as I've heard, but nothing too dramatic. To be honest, I was caught up in my own business and have not given all too much thought to High Commorragh," Vlokarion answered.

"I see. Thank you for letting me know anyways. Also…" I dreaded the question, but I had to know. "Did the Overlord… how do I say this… acquaint you with my replacement?"

Vlokarion's eyes flashed. He certainly sensed my dismay. "Temira… I thought you were above this. Concern for one of your fellow slaves? Disappointing." His inflexion was velvety, yet dangerous.

"You are right, Maester. But… do you remember what I told you about the concept of friendship?" I cautiously tried to explain.

"Of course, child, I have an eidetic memory. Complements of myself, to myself. A really handy upgrade," Vlokarion mused.

"Well… my replacement… happens to be my best friend," I elaborated.

"Ah," Vlokarion chimed, drawing out the word. "So, this replacement of yours, is precious to you, yes?"

"Exactly," I replied.

"Hence, it is not so easy for you to process, should it get hurt?" he questioned me further.

Having Lisbeth referred to as 'it' shook me for a second, but then I realised that was because he probably had not met her. I nodded.

"What a stupid concept it is. You are aware that this makes you exceedingly vulnerable around here, hmm?" the Haemonculus cooed.

"Yes, I am, Maester," I gave back dutifully.

"And still you continue it. Really curious. The emotional landscape of mon-keigh is so flat compared to ours, yet you are having such a hard time letting them go…" Vlokarion wondered. Then, he shook his head. "Nonetheless, child, no, I have not been acquainted with her."

That could be either good or bad. Good in the sense that Lisbeth apparently had not fucked up that bad that she deserved some time on Vlokarion's table. But it could also be bad, if the Overlord did not deem her important enough for Vlokarion's care. It did not help, I had to see for myself. I could not wait to get back!

"Well, Temira, that said, I'm leaving now. Some experiments of mine need tending to, more than you do. Until we meet again, my dear," he said as he stretched his spine and lifted himself up to his usual height.

"Goodbye, Maester. I'm looking forward to seeing you again," I said and as always, I meant it.

He flashed a short, vile smile at me and then left the room.

I lightly shook my head as he was gone. Something about Vlokarion's behaviour in my presence was off. He was not a total stranger, but I missed the endearing way he had treated me until now. But I would never know what possibly happened behind the curtains, and whether Vect had scolded him for getting so close to me.

I chose to be happy with what I got from him.

Then, I sunk back onto the bed and closed my eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet I got for once.

If my estimations were correct, it would be all over soon enough.

---

There had been no festivities after the Carnival was over, to underline the ultimate insignificance it and my victory had. I had been taken care of the last few days, tended to by the slaves Vlokarion had mentioned. My wounds had been sealed by the Haemonculus, now they tended to me. I got help from them with walking around, got bathed and massaged by them, even fed, so that I did not strain my still fresh wounds. I had to admit that I enjoyed this time greatly, for I never had gotten so pampered around here. It was a nice change of pace, that was for sure.

But after those relaxing few days, in which my wounds healed with enormous speed – my upgrades still were active, after all – the, to me, well-known squad fetched me and brought me back to Corespur. I parted with them in front of the door to the Overlord's quarters.

My heart was pounding with excitement and fear. I looked forward to being with him again, as strange as it was, but I also dreaded what I would find when it came down to Lisbeth.

I somehow had the strange feeling of coming back home again as I stepped into the quarters of the Overlord.

I immediately beheld him, sitting on the couch, dressed in dark robes, adorned with platinum. He sneered at me; I returned his smile shyly. Though I had seen him at the festivities, I somehow had forgotten over all the horror I had witnessed in the Carnival, how strangling his presence felt and how piercing his gaze was.

I had missed it.

What I too once again missed was Lisbeth. I let my gaze wander over the whole room, but she was nowhere to be found. Again, this unsettled me, though there were a million explanations to her whereabouts. However, from what he had implied at the festivities, the possibilities were probably dire.

Since it was no use wondering about that too much, I bowed to my lord and dropped to my knees, as etiquette demanded it. I shivered as his fingertips gently touched my chin and lifted it, to make me look into his relentless eyes.

I had direly missed his touch, as I found, and still wrecked my head over the fact why he had not touched me at the festivities. But that he did now, relieved me.

His self-satisfied smile deepened as he stared at me pensively, and after a while, he said to me, "Well done, my child, get up! You have certainly earned your place here. Time to show you to a new part of the fortress."

This made me halt a bit in the strange relief I felt for being back in this – in a way – safe environment. That I would have to leave it again soon, unsettled me a bit.

Once more I remembered Vlokarion's words, "You have to be content with simply not knowing and understand that not everything needs an explanation."

Therefore, careful not to ask any prying questions, though still trying to shake some information loose from him, I asked, confused, "My lord?" Using the Dark Eldar tongue felt strange after all this time. I also noticed that it needed a bit of getting used to.

He laughed at my apparent confusion, "Child, did you really think that I possess only one set of quarters? That would make for a really poor attempt of misdirection. No, it is time to show you a bit more of my realm; you have earned it and you need to learn about it. It is just another step on your long way of education."

"Thank you, my lord," I knew it was wise to be courteous.

Stroking over my cheek once, he said, "Very well, little !"

I was surprised that he did not put me on a leash this time; then again, I remembered that I had gained that favour shortly before I had left for the Carnival. Of course, I obeyed him.

I jumped on the inside as we turned right after we had left the torture chamber. Without hesitation, he walked towards the wall at the end of the corridor. As I was about to ask him whether he wanted to run into it, he gently brushed the fingertips of his left hand against a certain spot at the wall and I gasped in disbelief as a part of the solid stone became translucent and slid silently open.

The corridor we entered after that almost made me halt, though I knew what kind of a terrible mistake that would have been.

Since I had been gone for so long, I now realised how everything in the Black Fortress was a lot more decorated, underlining with every inch whose realm it was. However, this section still was something else, even for the standards of Corespur. The corridor we now walked along bore the usual, vertiginous patterns; however, around here, they were chased and lined with white gold and platinum. Since the metal decorations reflected the twilight, the whole corridor glowed with the eerie, crimson light, which fell inside through the glass ceiling. The ceiling itself also was something to show for – it was made out of millions of mosaic stones and they also glittered in the light, the shadows they cast on the floor made the whole view even more enchanting… and somehow disturbing.

The Overlord led me along this regal corridor, which went in a straight line right to a two-winged door made out of obsidian, with decorations of gems and white gold. We went to it, and before we stepped through it, I saw that the corridor was continued to my left.

An ante chamber took us in, not as enormous this time, and it felt very much like a cage, since it possessed many, slit-like windows, which cast long stripes of shade and light. Another two-winged door led out of this room, this time surprisingly undecorated; it was just two heavy, metal slabs of dark metal. Without making a sound, the wings swung open, leading us into another room.

I held my breath as we entered the room behind it.

This had to be the famous Scrying Chamber.

It was a circular dome, and it was filled with lightly glowing crystal shards, which were arranged concentrically around a currently empty throne. I knew that Vect could have a look at his city from different viewpoints and angles through these crystals. The crimson twilight fell into this room through another set of slit-like windows, which were adorned solely on the ceiling of the dome, for the walls were covered with crystals. Only above the throne the slits were broken, and a round window placed exactly over the throne shed some sanguine light onto it, making for an extremely dramatic lighting. The throne itself was something else to behold. It was enormous and made out of black metal and obsidian. The metal was forged into numerous motives of figures, who were engaged in torture and hedonism, their faces torn in silent screams, in pain or in pleasure. Their eyes were decorated with small obsidians, making the whole throne glitter in the light.

What made them look even more alive was that the crystals shed greenish light into the room, which shifted constantly. It created the illusion of the figure's eyes moving and it also made it impossible to perceive anything entirely clearly in here. It was truly an unsettling thing.

Then, and only then, I saw a smallish seeming figure squatting beside the throne, whose whole bodily expression showed fear. I caught glimpses of copper hair and fair, but bruised skin – seeing properly, even with my enhanced vision, was hard in this crimson and greenish, ever-shifting light – but… was it really Lisbeth?

However, I could not look at that figure any closer. I let out a frightened sound as my master put a blindfold over my eyes from behind. Though I was scared, I held still as he also shackled my wrists and donned a chain on my collar.

Before I could voice my confusion, he said to me, "Keep quiet! You will see in a minute."

With these cryptic words, he led me forward. It really was unpleasant to be led ahead without seeing anything, and he barely gave me time to set my steps carefully, to not to fall. I did not know how far he led me into the room, but I gasped in surprise as he pushed me onto my knees.

"Do not move! I will be back shortly," he said.

Then, I heard him leave the room.

What was going on?

Why was he doing this to me?

Had I done something wrong?

Pushing all those thoughts aside, something occurred to me, and I asked, "Lisbeth, is that you?"

My mind started racing again as I did not get an answer. Either I had been wrong, and it had not been Lisbeth at all, or she did not answer me for some reason.

I had a dreadful feeling that the second option was the correct one and it killed me that I did not know for sure what the hell was going on. Was she mad at me? Was she so scared that she could not speak? Could she no longer speak?

I shook off those thoughts. I needed my calmness in mind for dealing with whatever would come at me now, because something was coming at me. That, I was sure of.

I sat there for a while, motionless, the blindfold blocking my sight completely; I could not sneak the slightest peek, since it was so tight, and soon I felt that it became really unpleasant, as the pressure on my eyes built.

I would have loved to talk a bit more to whom I thought was Lisbeth, but I did not dare it. He had told me to keep quiet; I had already acted against this order by asking whether she was Lisbeth. Revered champion of the Carnival or not, I had to be incredibly careful around here.

Then, I heard the door open again, and winced.

I cringed on the inside and barely kept my teeth from chattering.

Something felt… strangling this time, more than what I usually felt in his presence.

My fear seemed to cut capers. My heartbeat and breathing accelerated. My body was trembling.

The worst thing about it was that I did not know what and why this was. I just seemed to be unable to control my fear for some baleful seconds, which were stretched out to ages in my beaten-up mind.

I tried to retreat into myself, focusing on the noises of my body and tried hard to get them under control. It was thrice as hard as I was not allowed to draw deep breaths, since I figured that my master had come back.

I did not feel much better, but at least I was not trembling all over.

What unsettled me so severely?

I felt someone moving past my right side, more than I heard it, yet I heard that someone sat down on the throne. Had to be my master, could not be anybody else, right?

I winced as my blindfold got undone. Yet, I could not perceive anything immediately; I needed to blink several times until I could see properly.

As my sight grew clear again, I looked up and what I saw made my jaw drop.

"So, it is true," I whispered.

---

The faces were always the same when he and his doppelgänger showed themselves to someone for the first time in the same room, especially if it was a mon-keigh mind that had to process what it was seeing.

Nevertheless, it was each and every time at least amusing.

Vect had to give her that she actually did quite well. Of course, he would not make her feel that way, and neither would his servant.

With disdain, he became aware of the presence of the second slave in the room, squatting to the right of the throne. Placing her here after her punishment had been his idea, it would show how much the girl – Temira was her name, he reminded himself – could restrain herself. She most likely would want to help her, once she realised that she was here, and, after all, he wanted to test how well-trained she was. Of course, his doppelgänger had told him everything, and he had watched her from afar until this very moment, but some things were best found out by his own hand and design.

He somehow now regretted the decision to keep the other girl here too. This mon-keigh named Lisbeth just annoyed him. Her aura and life-force were so weak, so little to gain from them, not even their taste was something to be savoured, perhaps snuffing all of it out altogether and drinking in what was left was best.

Nonetheless, not yet. She had to play a tiny part in his plans still, and it would do no good if he terminated her prematurely. No, her expiration would be something special.

A slight smile, just felt by him, not perceivable by anyone else, passed his features as he drank Temira's misery, though. She was something else for his palate, radiating, yet not pure, having a rough, but teasing edge to it. And, dear Muses, her aura was extremely delicious and beautiful for a mon-keigh, nothing like her miserable friend's. He looked forward to tasting some more of her. Additionally, his doppelgänger had been right – her odour was a gentle touch for his nose, unlike most other of her kind. She certainly fulfilled a lot of the criteria, but it remained to be seen whether she would fulfil the most important one. Time would tell that.

He felt Temira's utter – yet for him entertaining – confusion and how she was proverbially bursting with questions. He would let those questions nag at her and linger on her mind. It would also show how smart she was, whether she figured some answers out for herself.

All in due time.

Adjusting his mind to such a limited one – though, admittedly, the girl was a sharp tool in the shed of mon-keigh minds – was always hard for him. He had to restrain himself to not expect too much of her, though she had proven herself time and again.

Nevertheless, he would up the game from now on significantly, make her completely dependent on his whims, and, finally, subjugate her completely. It would take time and patience, and favourably, if he chose so, he had plenty of both.

All depended on whether she earned her place the way he wanted it.

---

His doppelgänger truly existed. I should have expected this, yet I found myself staring at them in disbelief, slightly shaking my head, frozen in awe and confusion.

It was astonishing. They looked exactly the same; I knew the curves of this face perfectly, therefore, I was sure to not see the slightest difference. They wore the same robes and an equal kind of hairstyle; even the delicate jewellery in their hair and on their ears were identical.

Both stared at me with their relentless eyes, and both showed the usual, slightly disdainful expression I knew so well.

Yet, as I looked into the relentless, pitch-black eyes of the – strangely enough – standing one, I noticed a difference.

I did not know if I only saw it because I assumed right now that there was a real one and a fake one in this room, or if it was something that could be seen if one looked closely enough and knew what to search for. At first, it confused me, but the longer I stared into his eyes, the clearer it got for me.

Freedom.

I pondered that.

Was he really free?

Because, when it came down to it, Vect also could not move out of his place. If he did, he would lose everything. And if he stayed, he was subjected to the thing he hated most: eternal ennui.

However, I was sure that pointing that out to him was the easiest way for me to get myself killed in the most gruesome manner this terribly creative brain could think up.

The most interesting question was whether he was aware of the fact or if he really was delusional enough to believe that he was truly free. From what I saw in his eyes, I thought that he indeed was delusional enough.

Then again, he was such an adept liar, that I was sure that he could also feign this expression in his eyes and if he knew that he was indeed a prisoner of his position, he surely would never admit it. And, to add to that notion, maybe I was looking at the doppelgänger, who gave me something to explore, to believe I had figured it out. I would never know, and that notion nagged heavily at my mind.

However, in a way, the true Vect was a lot freer than others around here. He indeed was the only being who was truly free to do whatever he wanted in this city. Everybody heeded his command around here and defying him was an inevitable death sentence. He did not need to adhere to any rules if he chose so and there was no one telling him what to do in his place of absolute power.

So, it was this exceedingly well-hidden look in his eyes, which made him contrast from his doppelgänger.

If it was him and I did not get terribly nicely played here.

Yet, I had the strange notion that the real Overlord was in this room, for I still felt different and positively more miserable than usual. Was it him? Did I just want to believe it? Was my mind playing tricks on me? I could not tell.

Then I realised that I just had been staring at them, and though I was on my knees already, I had not greeted one of them properly.

Therefore, though breathtakingly dangerous to do it without permission, I jumped to my feet – luckily, my training had left me agile and fit enough to do that from a kneeling position – executed the proper greeting to the Overlord, and then fell to my knees again, look cast downward, as it was expected from me.

Scared and in a hushed voice, I said, "Forgive me for stealing so much of your time with my hesitation, Overlord! I shall keep you no longer!" I was very keen on making no mistakes whatsoever right now.

The one beside the throne chuckled; the one on it gave a disdainful huff.

The standing one said, "I almost forgot what a nicely trained plaything you are. Vlokarion surely outdid himself with you."

I winced slightly, as I heard these words.

Plaything.

It had been a while since I had been called that.

The other one said, "It took you long enough to learn, though, and you most certainly still need to learn when to hold your tongue."

I felt how these words stabbed me. I slowly began to realise that apparently a lot of praise I had received from him – Who of the two? Only one? Both? It drove me insane not to know – had been false, just to lull me into a false sense of security.

The thought of possibly starting anew had me fighting down tears. I had tried so hard to always be at my very best and a good slave!

Also, it was absolutely impossible to tell them apart by their voices. They truly and ultimately sounded the same, I could not make out the slightest difference.

The Vect on the throne chuckled this time, and said, "Your furthermost question is apparent to me; it is quite entertaining to watch you struggle with containing yourself."

"However, I will not allow you to ask. You have to figure it out for yourself, though I have to say that you would be the first one who did," the standing one added.

It nagged greatly at me how perfectly they complimented each other and knew exactly what to say and do to make me feel completely exposed. It was a level of acting I could not even start to comprehend. Therefore, since I knew that there was nothing I could do, I replied dutifully, "Of course, master."

"Such a well-trained, behaving, little pet. I wonder how long you can keep that humility up? We shall see," the standing one chuckled. Then, he continued, "What was it you wanted to tell me at the festivities? We never had the chance to talk after we had been interrupted."

This was getting worse by the second. I had hoped that he had forgotten all about it, which had been a naïve thought, of course, but, in a way, I had been relieved back then not having to do it.

I hemmed and hawed a bit, but as the eyes of both slowly narrowed – at the exact same speed, as I realised with dread – I pushed myself to say, "I… ah… I wanted to tell you that I had a lot of help from… Archon Ea'nash… in obtaining the poison-daggers. I would not have thought about such a sophisticated favour; he requested a change of my original favour from Archon Yaelindra. Since I owe him for that, I thought that you should know, and I await my punishment for my incompetence."

Both burst out in a roar of laughter as I had said that.

And, oh dear, that laughter hurt! It was like a thousand needles stinging me at once. I shivered at the thought and the notion that I knew exactly what that felt like.

Had it always hurt so much when he had laughed at me? I could no longer tell. My mind and feelings were confused and numbed by the experiences I had made in the Carnival and by the long time I had been away. I could not remember how it had felt and it tore me apart.

They exchanged a short glance; I could not tell whether it was a sign between the two of them or a shared joke, but somehow, this unsettled me severely.

Finally, the sitting one said, "Your naivety is highly entertaining."

"Did you really think that I did not know about this? That Ea'nash would have dared to change the favour without asking my permission first?" the standing Vect added.

The sitting one shook his head. "You should know better than that. Still, your honesty remains refreshing, which is why I will go easy on you for this failure. Most would have tried to keep it from me."

"Thank you for your kindness, master! Please, forgive my flawed reasoning, Overlord!" I answered and meant every word of it. He could have been a lot harsher on me for this one.

Then, I dared to look around for a second. It was a mistake, as I had to find out, since I now could see that it was indeed Lisbeth who was cowering beside the throne. I could see from where I was that she had been severely mistreated, her skin bruised and littered with cuts. It struck me like lightning that Hesperax's remark at the end of my training sessions with her had been true, and not just a mean comment to make me lose my mind. Lisbeth had indeed and utterly failed. Vect had been displeased with me too at times, but I never had looked as bad. She clearly had been tortured for - at least - days on end.

Of course, the two Vects saw my gaze and tasted my mental suffering and the one on the throne said to me, "Do not let your mind linger on her fate; it is beyond your concern. She has proven to be a disappointment in her task, and she will feel the consequences for that. There is nothing you can do to change that."

The pain was apparent in my voice as I replied obediently, "Yes, master." There were a million things I wanted to add to that, pleading for her life, begging him to spare her or to give me a second chance with educating her… but I forced my mouth shut, as I knew that whatever I would have said, nothing would have made a difference. It would have only made him angry and shown him that I was not as obedient and well-trained as he wanted me to be. And I had to keep looking out for myself right now, as I needed to re-establish myself in his service and favour. Only when he was inclined towards me again, I could try to ask him for anything like that.

As much as I hated it, I had to abandon Lisbeth for now.

The Vect on the throne snapped his fingers beside Lisbeth's ear and she winced. "You. Get up!"

Though her face distorted with pain, she obeyed and remained standing with lowered head, her tangled, copper hair around her shoulders and she was slightly swaying. I only got glimpses of her eyes and realised with horror that they were dim. She was not in good health, but that was evident. I also noticed with an aching heart that she wore nothing but her skin. I was aware that this was but a slight glimpse at the levels of humiliation I knew nothing about.

"Yes, Overlord?" she said, and something died in me as I heard her speak. Her voice was nothing more than a low, scared whisper and everything of her body language showed how afraid she was. I wanted nothing more than to rush to her and hug her and tell her that everything would be alright, but I knew exactly that this would do nothing but doom us both.

"Take her to my quarters and then come back here! We are not done for today," the Vect on the throne boomed at Lisbeth. Then, he looked at me, flashed a terrifying smile at me and said to me, "I will deal with you in a more extensive manner later, my sweet Temira."

Lisbeth bowed shortly and I stood and also bade the Overlord with a bow and a short drop to one knee a respectful farewell. Then, I was led out of the room and back into the corridor again.

Without saying a word, Lisbeth led me immediately to the left after we had left the ante chamber. Again, a delicate touch at a certain spot on the wall, and it transformed and showed a well-ornate door. Without hesitation, she opened it and led me through it.

Behind it, I faced the true quarters of the Overlord for the first time. Or were these just his second, more spacious quarters? I no longer could tell what was true and what was fake. It made me dizzy when I thought too hard about it.

I did not look at the quarters for now, but rather focused on Lisbeth, who was still with me.

She undid my shackles without looking at me or saying a word and then turned to go again, but I touched her gently at her shoulder, careful not to hurt her and said, "My god… Lisbeth… what happened? Why did he do this to you? And why are you ignoring me like that?"

Lisbeth halted, looked at me for the first time over her shoulder, but her eyes stayed as dim as they had been before. Only now I realised that panic flickered in her eyes. She whispered, "Let me go! If I disobey just a tiny bit, I am in trouble! And I don't want to be in trouble! Please!" Her face was a grimace of pure desperation.

I let go of her, but whispered, "Oh dear… Lisbeth… I am so sorry… I… I'll be there for you again, I swear…"

She shook her head, looking very tired, shot me a look from the corner of her eyes that flickered with disbelief and left the room.

I had a million questions more, but no one would answer them, as it seemed.

What the hell had he done to her that she was so scared and subjugated? There was little to nothing left of the woman I once knew and held so dear. I needed to find out more, I needed to talk to her, but I knew as well that going after her and trying to force her would just make things worse.

Also… what was that disbelief in her expression? I could not make heads or tails of it all and it scared me. Losing my only true ally in this city was something I could not cope with.

I could not be content with not knowing so many things, despite my knowledge that I would have to deal with it for as long as my master (Which one?!) deemed it appropriate.

Patience.

Never before had it been so tough to master.

I tore my thoughts away from all that, turned my back on the entrance and inspected the room.

I swallowed. It seemed as if I had reached a different echelon of imprisonment with being allowed to be with the true Overlord.

Back in the Scrying Chamber, I had frowned upon the wording of Vect that I was naïve. Now, as I saw his quarters, I was made aware that I still apparently was.

The furniture was… hellish.

The quarters looked as if they had arisen from a nightmare. Every piece of furniture I found here was adorned with blades and spikes, so even touching them had to be done utterly carefully, or injuries were bound to happen. The walls were covered with relievos and chasings that showed patterns that made me dizzy if I looked too long at them and I was absolutely positive that they moved if I looked away.

It freaked me out. I had never thought that something as simple as that would freak me out ever again.

This time, the room was seven meters or so high. On the left side of the entrance, again a washing basin was placed, but the bowl was made out of metal, also lined with terrible patterns and the tap and fitting bore such sharp edges that I was sure it was easy to cut one's fingers, if not touching them in the perfectly right manner. At the wall where the entrance was, further left of the basin, stood an enormous canopy bed, made out of obsidian and black metal; however, this time, the bedposts were shaped like muscles, which had been cut and torn, and each edge already looked like it was razor sharp. That shackles were attached to each post, on top and bottom of them, did not encourage me any further. Also, a lot of chains and complicated looking hoists covered the frame, on which the canopy hung. The canopy was this time not made out of silk, but I was damn sure that it was fine, well-preserved skin.

The thought of touching it made me sick.

Also, I noted with a sour mood that the bed was pretty high and that I had to use some of the blades that protruded from the side of the bed to climb into it. I was sure that I would never lie in there without bleeding somewhere.

At least the bedding was made of silk. I felt lucky at this point.

This nightmare of a bed was flanked by two currently empty, especially nasty looking slave cages, which stood about one meter away from it; I figured that the Overlord liked to sleep while being engulfed in a cloud of suffering and agony. I did not fancy the notion of having to sleep under these circumstances, yet, I had no choice.

Terrible nights were bound to be incoming.

The wall to the left, the one behind the bed, was windowless and halfway covered by some cupboards and bookshelves.

And the biggest nightmare of furniture I had ever seen sat in front of it all.

It was a chair, which looked very much like a throne, made out of severed arms. To form a smooth surface to sit upon, they were tied together in the vague shape of a backrest and seat. The armrests were made out of forearms, their palms turned upwards, apparently to rest the elbows in them, the feet of the chair were numerous arms, resting on their hands with fanned-out fingers. The backrest was framed with a multitude of those dead limbs, making for an eerily magnificent decoration, and the leftmost and rightmost arm, respectively, held a crimson lampion, which glowed with a sanguine light.

However, the horror did not stop there.

To the left of the chair was a bookstand, and it had the form of a naked woman, who was sitting on her heels, and whose thighs had been bound to her ankles. She rested an opened book on her chest and shoulders, and where her neck should start, only a hole was. I saw that an elongated spine protruded from behind the book, and on its top, over the book, was a skull, which was missing its lower jawbone. In its head, also a light was inserted, which shone onto the pages below it.

To top all that off, making this whole thing look absolutely gruesome, the skin of all those arms and the bookstand figure – was it just a figure? – was black-greenish; I had no idea what could have been done to skin to make it look like that. Swallowing got hard as I acknowledged that all bodily forms took undoubtedly those of humans.

I stumbled a few steps backwards as I beheld this sickening piece of furniture. I prayed and hoped on the inside that I never even had to get near that thing.

Fighting down my roiling stomach barely-so, I tore my gaze away from that atrocity.

The shelves, which were covered with vertiginous patterns, blades and spikes now seemed like child's play after looking at that chair; at this point, I hoped that I had to interact with the furniture as little as possible, though I knew that it was a quite futile hope. Also, the armour and weapon rack of the Overlord were here, and his armour was in its rightful place, but not his sceptre. I frowned. I had not seen him having it with him.

My heart skipped a beat as I saw something moving at the corner of my eyes.

Again, my gaze was caught by the throne… I was not sure if it had actually moved. I shivered. I dearly hoped that my racing mind was playing tricks on me. Taking a deep breath, I went back to observing the rest of the room.

In front of me, I was yet again presented with a breath-taking view of Commorragh, because the whole wall was made out of mirrored glass. Only in the very right corner was a door. I was curious to where it led; I would check it out later.

In front of the window, a table with numerous chairs stood – which were all, like the rest of the furniture, made out of obsidian and metal, adorned with blades and sickening patterns and I feared that the seat covers they had, were again made out of skin – and the floor in front of it was lain with an enormous, plush carpet, held in crimson, which covered the whole length of the room. On the table, I could see some dishes, a carafe, filled with possibly water – nevertheless, there were a million substances to consider that looked like water – a wooden box, whose contents I could not guess and a very special looking decanter, which held something I had only read about in the lessons I had had on Chu'uk's ship.

It was a special variant of bloodwine.

I was dead sure that it was this. One of the best batches had come from late Shaa-dom, as I had found out quite early in my service to the Overlord. The Shaa-dom variant had to be mixed with fresh blood, there were also variants that already had some blood mixed into them.

This, of that I was sure because of the dark, almost black, colour and the fashion of the decanter, was one of the variants that needed fresh blood added to them. The decanter had two necks; one was the one of a classical decanter, the other was a slender tube, with a small measuring cylinder worked into its middle; the tube was topped with a small funnel, from whose middle a sharp spike protruded.

I sighed. I knew what I had to do there.

From a good slave it was expected that she pierced herself with the spike the moment her master came back – arterial blood was required for that, woe to the one that dared to taint the wine with venous blood – so that her blood could work with it until the master deigned to enjoy it.

I would have to be on my toes to be here and do as I should the moment he passed through that door, since greeting him with a wave of small pain surely would lighten his mood. But first, I wanted to inspect the rest of the room.

I not only saw Commorragh through the window, but also another glass dome under it; I figured that the door beside the window led to a staircase that led down there.

To my right and in an alcove was a short, circling stair – a nightmare to walk with bare feet, since its steps were made out of fine metal grids that looked sharp-edged – which wound itself up about five meters, where it met a door. I quickly calculated the height and figured that the corridor it led to had to pass the one I had already seen overhead. The wall to my right possessed two doors, I figured that they would lead to the toilet and bathroom.

I took a deep breath to take it all in. It seemed as if for the first time I was dealing with the real deal concerning Dark Eldar quarters. I was sure to hurt myself a lot around here and I was aware that this was exactly why Vect wanted it that way.

Still, the whole situation had me thinking. Why would Vect only introduce me now to those positively more horrible quarters? Why did he go so easy on me and tried so hard to keep me sane?

It was no use. There was nothing I could do to find out more about that, because if anything was known about the Overlord, it was that his plans were his and his alone to know.

I shrugged, knowing that I could do nothing to get any information on that and focused on the quarters again.

Though I was curious what would lie behind the door beside the glass wall, I checked the other two doors to the right first. The one to my immediate right led to the bathroom. Somehow, I felt relieved to leave the room with that terrible chair, but I had to find out that even the bathroom held its own horrors.

Those quarters of the Overlord underlined his narcissism and the feeling of superiority he had over others, for again in the bathroom a depiction of enslavement could be found. This time, it was the bathtub that held the depiction. It was not embedded in the floor, like the one in the other bathroom, but rather on a small dais, one flat step leading up to it. The bathtub itself was again enormous, at least as big as the other one, if not bigger, and the bordering of it was made of several figures hewn out of black marble, showing all kinds of different races, which all knelt and formed the rim of the tub with the tops of their heads, shoulders or palms. Again, their eyes were artfully set with obsidians, which made them glitter in the red twilight, which fell into the room through a mirrored window. They looked almost alive and the view spooked me greatly. The rest of the bath, ironically enough, looked almost exactly like the furniture in the bathroom of his other set of quarters.

I shook off this new, unsettling detail and checked whether new clothing was prepared for me in the bathroom, but I did not find anything, therefore, I left again, since there was nothing for me to do here.

I checked the second door and found the toilet, as I had expected. For once, no extra nastiness attached here.

Then I made my way to the last door. However, I did not reach the door that easily.

I yelped and jumped back as I set foot on the carpet.

It had felt as if I had stepped on a cactus. Millions of tiniest needles had pierced my bare sole as I had stepped on the deceivingly soft-looking plush. Cursing vividly, I took a look at my foot, but found to my surprise that apparently the needles were so delicate that they did not make me bleed, they only hurt me.

"No! For fuck's sake, no!" I swore full-heartedly.

This was a stimulator carpet.

I had read about those things in my lessons. They were set with millions of tiniest neuro-stimulator needles, which were a refreshing burst of light pain to Dark Eldar, focusing their senses and clearing their minds.

For everybody else, they were not so much fun.

I growled, "Why does this always happen to me?" Then, I clenched my teeth and crossed the carpet quickly. There was no way around that anyways since it filled the whole length of the room.

It only took me three steps to cross the short end of the carpet, but the short, nasty pricks left me cursing through clenched teeth. The sensation was not severe, but the fashion of it ripped through my whole body, covering my skin in goose bumps and making my nipples hard.

I went to the door that had interested me earlier, with a nervously beating heart and panting a bit. I did not even consider checking the one on top of the stairs. I had the feeling that I was to keep my hands off of this one.

I opened it, and behind it I found some surprisingly dull stone stairs, which wound down in a steep angle and the walls of this small staircase were made out of frosted, crystal glass. I descended the stairs and after some steps, I found another door. Though I had seen that I had descended under the rim of the glass dome I had spotted from atop, I had not seen what lay inside it. My curiosity almost killing me, I opened the second door.

The crimson twilight fell even more into the staircase with that, I blinked for a second, since the light was painfully bright for my enhanced eyes. As I saw clear again, my jaw dropped in astonishment. I had expected a lot around here, but not this.

It was like a step into another world.

I again stood at the head of winding stairs with a handrail, both made of delicate strands of wrought, shining metal, showing soothing, winding patterns, in crass contrast to everything I had seen in the quarters. They led down quite a while, down to the bottom of this gigantic dome I stood in; it was easily fifty metres high and also possessed this radius. The dome itself was made out of crystals, which had big surfaces, so they only fractured the panorama over the city a little, enough to still get a magnificent view through a beautifully arranged pattern. Since the borders of the crystals were extremely delicate, it felt like one was standing in the open. However, I could see that the surfaces were mirrored.

All this was not special.

The thing that took me aback was the contents of the dome, for it was a garden.

Grass shining in lavish, green tones covered the ground. Trees, whose kinds I had never seen before, with white, smooth trunks and greenish-silverish leaves, wound their way all to the top of the dome. Their leaves shone like gems; at least I thought so until I saw that truly gems were placed in the branches and on some leaves, shining in all colours of the rainbow. The light, which had to fall to the ground through the foliage, drew beautiful and soothing patterns onto the ground. Also, an almost black pool of water was here, big enough to swim in it for quite a while, in the middle of the dome. It was shaped in the form of a ring; one small bridge made out of white stone – I thought it was marble – crossed it, to an island, which was laid with comfortably looking cushions and blankets. A small table, also made out of the same stone as the bridge, was additionally there. A way, laid with light grey pebble stones, led from the bottom of the stairs to the bridge; also, some other ways, made in the same fashion, branched away from it, and led about in the garden. I took it that stepping onto the grass was not a wise idea. The walls of the dome could barely be seen, for they were mostly covered by the trees and some other climbers, whose leaves also were green and silver. The feet of the trees were lined with flowers and smaller shrubberies, all blooming in blueish colours, and their fragrances were sweet and made me feel a bit light-headed, though they slowed my heartbeat down and made me breathe easily. The air smelt extremely clear in here; it was a sheer holiday for my nose, which was by now used to the everlasting stench of blood and death in Commorragh.

Never had I thought that such a beautiful place could exist in such a cruel and deadly environment.

The terrible chair was almost forgotten right now.

It also struck me as quite odd that Vect could find pleasure in such simple beauty. It fitted the picture of the relentless and cruel Overlord in absolutely no way. Yet, I somehow felt honoured that I now knew that he did, for I figured that not many knew this side of him. I was still confused as to why I was predestined by him to know such things. I thought that this dome had to be one of the famous pleasure gardens of the Dark City.

Of course, I wanted to explore it and I did not think twice about it; the peacefulness of this place made me feel safe.

Therefore, I climbed down the stairs, inhaling this fresh and sweet-smelling air deeply and rejoicing with every single breath, for breathing had not felt so good in a long time. I was really puzzled about the plants; I was sure that they had been altered in some genetic or biotechnological way, since they could not be able to survive solely with the sickly light of the Ilmaea, the dying suns, which cast their crimson, ailing light on the whole city. I would have loved to investigate the plants further, the heart of the scientist I actually possessed beating once again, but I did not dare to trespass on the grass, afraid, what punishment I might have to endure if I dared to disturb the immaculate pasture.

So, I wandered around in the garden for a bit, enjoying my short time off from the slave life, and feeling light-headed because of the utterly fresh air I was allowed to breathe. I relished this drowsiness, for I felt a bit like I was drunk; it relaxed me greatly and I needed relaxation quite badly, since I knew that only calmness would save me from the worst torments. I wandered beneath the trees, amazed by their beauty and design. Sadly, I did not come close enough to touch them.

It had been a long time since I had felt so good.

I relished my surroundings for some minutes, but then I reminded myself that I better got back into those nightmarish quarters, to be there when he came back and to pierce myself with the spike on that decanter in perfect timing. After all, I did not want to botch something on the first day I was back with my master.

It still made my head hurt when I thought about the possibilities of the doppelgänger actually existing. Had I so far ever been with the real Vect? Had they swapped places from time to time, of course, without me noticing? It tore me apart not to know. By the same token, I knew that I would never know. All I could really do was to endure it silently, maybe daring to ask Vect about it and hoping that he would not punish me for asking.

Also, I was really worried about Lisbeth. He certainly had not been easy on her, as I had feared all the time. I would have loved to go with her again, stay at her side and shield her, but I had no say in this, as usual. Though I had seen that he had destroyed her a lot, I hoped that I could still somehow save her. However, to manage that, I needed to be with her again. But as things looked, I would not get that opportunity anytime soon; it seemed as if he wanted us divided.

Besides, I also needed to get used to my master again anyways, so being alone with him might not be the worst thing to happen to me; it gave me time to find my role again, before I had to take care of someone else.

I spent the next few hours weighing the pros and cons of my situation, lounging uncomfortably at the table. I had winced as I had sat down on one of the chairs, as I had to find that their seat covers indeed were made out of skin. Soft skin, which felt like it was still alive, not leather. I wondered if it bled when you cut it.

In this time, I also had tried hard not to stare at the terrible chair, but, of course, I had failed miserably. It still made me sick when I looked at it and I felt slightly dizzy all the time, since the patterns on the walls and the furniture made my head spin.

I had to do better than that.

Just as that thought had crossed my mind – I was not sure how long I had just sat there, staring into thin air, too afraid to climb into the bed, reluctant to cross that carpet again and not sure whether I was allowed to touch the food that was sitting on the table – the door opened and in stepped the Overlord.

He was glorious as ever.

I jumped at the thought, as I had seen him already today and I remembered in the same second what I was to do. I got to my feet with a deferential nod and neared the decanter. Clenching my teeth, I hovered with my left hand over the spike for a second, then I pushed it downwards and let the spike pierce my ulnar artery. The piercing sensation was bearable, I exhaled sharply, and instantly, my blood flowed down the funnel and into a broader section of the tube, which measured the amount of blood needed for the portion of wine that was in the decanter. As it was full, I drew back my hand.

I looked at my master as he chuckled darkly. He had crossed the room while I had been showing my submission and had laid off the sceptre on the weapon stand – where had he fetched it from? Another small mystery I would not uncover so fast, as it seemed.

"Still so eager to please, hmm, Temira?" he said to me as he laid off his heavy, ornate robe and switched into a lighter garment. Something cringed in me as he passed the chair and gently and seemingly subliminally stroked its backrest.

"I figured that this is what is expected of me, my lord, and I would hate to disappoint you," I answered truthfully. The last thing I wanted was to disappoint him.

Another dark chuckle. "Of course." He had not yet looked at me. The thought struck me like lightning. "And still… I am somewhat disappointed in you."

Cold fear shot up in me immediately and I felt as if I got strangled all of a sudden. And, oh dear lord, it hurt. Badly. It hurt me that I had disappointed him in some way. I had sensed the strangling sensation the second he had walked through the door, just like a bad taste in the back of my mouth, but now it was a hundred times stronger. "W… why is that, master?"

"Humour me. Try to think about it and present me with your findings," he said, still not looking at me, rather running his long-nailed fingers over the backs of some books in his own, private library.

My mind was racing. There were a million things to consider, and I could not be sure what he was referring to. But I had to take my shots fast, that I was aware of. "I… I…" I started, shook my head at my own squeamishness, pulled myself together and started anew, "I'm not entirely sure, master, but my two best guesses are, on the one hand, that I needed more help than I should have needed in the Carnival and, on the other, that I disobeyed you back in the Scrying Chamber, by trying to talk to Lisbeth."

"Close… but not quite," he said, his tone as cold as ice. However, he did not deign to tell me what it actually was, and it was tormenting me, which was, of course, the sole reason why he did it. Now turning around and transfixing me with his icy, ebon eyes, he said, "Is there any particular reason why you are so afraid of me all of a sudden, Temira?"

I gulped, heart beating fast, and answered "Not that I am aware of, my lord. I think I have to adjust to your presence again."

"Seems as if. But let me make an educated guess: you are afraid because you saw what I did to this dimwit friend of yours. You knew all the time that she was not fit for her position and you hoped… prayed," he scoffed at that thought, "that it would not be so. Nonetheless, finally seeing the result of my hand on her shook you more than you would like to admit. That and the fact that I hold you in so low regard after all you have gone through, after all you did for the Kabal in the Carnival," Vect preached and he came closer to me with each word and I got smaller and smaller, as I had a dreadful feeling that I was in for something far viler than I could have ever imagined, mixed with the stabbing sensation in my stomach that I had failed him badly.

I squeaked, "I am sorry that I have failed you so, master!" It took all of my willpower not to tremble before him, as he now loomed over me.

For one second, which felt like an eternity, he stared at me like that, eating me whole with his gaze, but then he exhaled sharply, closed his eyes and shook his head. "Temira," he said, and his tone got much softer. "I had figured that you understood by now that our actual social interaction has to be kept solely between the two of us." His inflexion now was that of a patient father that lectured his mislead child.

I was close to tears. I felt so stupid. It should have been obvious to me. I needed to be better than this.

He watched me squirm with a slight smile for a short while, but then slightly spread his arms and said, "Come here, you silly thing!"

I took the single step forwards and let him embrace me. It took all my mental strength not to start crying like a little child, for I surely felt like one. This was not how I had imagined this first, private meeting with him. My feelings were completely tumbled. Of course, he had imposed some expected cruelty on me, but that he had resolved it in such a soft manner confused me greatly. I cherished it, yet in the same second, I was not sure whether this was not another ploy to make me feel safe, just to backstab me shortly thereafter. Though the feeling of someone squishing my throat got overwhelming as I was so close to him – and for the life of me, I could not remember if I had always felt like that and just had drowned that feeling in other ones – it felt… right to be back here, in his arms.

I did not question that feeling even once.

Alas, the hug did not last for long, because he drew away pretty soon again and said to me, "No tears, my little slave. I take it you at least remember why that is?"

I nodded happily. "Yes, master. Absolute waste of my suffering, I would never dare!"

He smiled indulgently. "Good girl." Gently stroking over my hair once, he sat down at the head of the table and said, "Now, it would be a shame to let that wine go to waste you sweetened with your blood so obediently."

As it was custom, I waited until he had seated himself, then poured him a glass of wine, as he had already implied. Only then I placed myself… to his left. I had to be careful.

He noticed the gesture and chuckled. "Do you believe you have fallen from grace so much, my pet?"

I smiled shyly and replied, "I figured I rather play it safe, considering my additional mistakes, my lord."

Vect flashed a lopsided grin. "Good answer." Tilting his head, he continued, "Then again, you knew from the very beginning how to give good answers. A quality I always found quaint in you."

This rather casual conversation felt so weird. It had been over a year since we had talked like that. Our meeting at the festivities did not really count; on official occasions, he always had been different to me. The fact that his presence made it so hard to breathe for me, underlined the queerness of the situation.

I watched him as he took the first sip from the bloodwine. Vect closed his eyes, rolling the wine on his tongue, expression concentrated, yet placid. Only after a while he swallowed this first, tiny sip. To my unending relief, he let out a soft, delighted sound. With the slightest of smiles, the Overlord opened his eyes and said to me, "Look at you, Temira! How far you have come from the scared, anxious girl you have been." He took a second sip, swallowing it a lot quicker than the first one. "And it shows, even in your taste." Sighing, he added, "Alright, ask. I can feel you bursting since the first time we looked at each other."

Ask what? There were so many things I wanted answers to, but I was sure that I would not get all of them. On to the most pressing ones, that were not too dumb to ask, "My lord, the assassin that tried to kill me in the arena, said something about 'management changes' in High Commorragh. Is there anything I should know?"

A single chime of laughter shook the Overlord. "Ah, there were. None that are too important for you. You will see soon enough."

Not much of an answer. But I was not brave enough to push the issue. When he said that I would see soon enough, I would. That was the end of that.

"Also, my lord, something I have been wondering all the time I was away: Was I destined to die? Or did you expect me to make it?"

The fanged smile Vect shot at me already suggested that this answer also would be unsatisfactory, "Maybe. After all, it was up to you, Temira. How you chose your favours. How well you would adapt to the task at hand. That said, you do know that everything happens for a reason, yes?"

A reason indeed. A reason I would not explore so easily.

"Of course, my lord," I answered dutifully.

"Then this will be answer enough for you," he said. Even though his tone was relaxed, the implication was clear. No more questions. "You must be starving by now, yes? Let us eat!"

As the master dictated, so we did. My mouth had already been watering for a while, as I had inhaled all the new nuances of smells of the dishes, while I had been waiting for him. Vect was right, I was hungry, as I had not had breakfast before I had been taken back here.

I guessed it had been another little test.

But hunger I could manage by now. Lady Hesperax had seen to that.

What I could not manage, was the waterfall of new tastes I now got to sense for the first time. I had felt a small prelude to that at the festivities, where I had eaten real food again after a long time, but now, the notion got exacerbated. All those subtle aromas I had missed before, those touches of sometimes almost clashing tastes… it was tough on me.

"You still have not adjusted entirely to your new senses, as I see," the Overlord commented.

I nodded, swallowing too much saliva, then giving back, "Yes, unfortunately, my lord. However, I did not have much opportunity to train my sense of taste, therefore, it is still… much."

"Oh, not to worry, Temira. Your struggle is rather diverting to watch," Vect mused.

Yes, that he stared at me while I was fighting my own senses did not help. It felt like someone had shut cuffs around my throat and chest and was now slowly tightening them. Had it always been so hard to breathe?

I could not bear the silence, therefore I said, "A thing that really surprised me in the competition was that I had such a cool head, good danger sense and acute strategic knowledge. It had been one of my greatest weaknesses in training, yet, when it came down to the real thing, I seemed to suddenly manage what I could not before. I felt… guided."

"Unsurprising," Vect gave back nonchalantly.

I looked at him, anything but unsurprised.

He chuckled. "You once have been a biotechnologist and cannot figure it out, hmm? Seems as if you were not really much in your field."

Insult to injury did not hurt me anymore. Not from him. He could do as he pleased; I should be honoured that he acknowledged my existence as something else than his slave.

"Very well, let me educate you, little one," he sighed. After taking another sip from his cup, he added, "You would be surprised how much more efficient human bodies work when enough adrenaline is induced in them. I reckon that you unearthed skills you actually had but were never under enough pressure to display them. And about your knowledge, I can only say that, once more, accelerated thinking is nothing new in that state and I have witnessed that often forgotten knowledge emerges when mon-keigh are put under enough stress. So, what you experienced, is, in fact, normal."

I wanted to voice my confusion about that, since I, of course, knew about the effects of adrenaline, but had never heard about that far of a stretch.

However, Vect was not having it, because he said, "Enough questions! Make yourself useful. There should be a bottle of spirit from Devil's Orchard in my other quarters, on the shelf on the top platform. Be a good girl and get it for me, will you."

I nodded and got up. Before I turned to go, I said, "I'd love to, master, but how exactly do I get the passage open?"

"Ah, yes, of course, you do not know. I really should not mix up Lisbeth and you," Vect chuckled mockingly.

Again, nothing in me reacted to the obvious taunt.

My master instructed me precisely. I listened closely, knowing that he would not repeat himself. As his personal slave, I had to master such things at the first attempt.

Luckily for me, it was not too hard.

As Vect was done instructing me, I bowed slightly to him, then turned to go.

I gritted my teeth as I walked over the stimulator carpet.

However, the Overlord did not leave this slightest dismay uncommented, "Maybe I will have you lie down on the carpet later… you utter quite droll noises when you touch it." He almost sounded… absent as he said that.

I was sure that I had been quiet, but maybe even the gritting of my teeth had been enough to entertain him. I turned around, bowed slightly to him, and said, "I am glad to be of service, Overlord." Then, he let me leave the room without further mockery.

When I walked down the ornate corridor, I took a deep breath. Yes, breathing worked a lot better when I was not in the same room with him. Still, I could not recall whether it always had been as bad as now and it nagged at me.

The way Vect handled me was… off. I could not put a label on it. But there was a perfunctory note to his cruel comments towards me that made me unsure. Was I dancing on the edge of some serious punishment? Did he not care as much anymore, as weird as it sounded?

I could not shake off the feeling of disinterest towards me. Viewing me as insignificant. It scared me. Because if the Overlord lost interest in me, I knew all too well where my journey would lead me.

No time for that now. I had to focus.

Vect's instructions had, as always, been perfectly accurate. Even though I had never used the secret button in the wall, I knew exactly where to touch the cold stone to open up the passage. There certainly was beauty in such accuracy.

After the secret passage, I knew my way all too well.

My stomach grew colder than the rest of me when I stepped into the freezing ambience of the torture chamber. This time, I could not entirely ignore the fore-field covered cages. I let my gaze wander around, and, as usual, found them filled. However, since the force-fields distorted the view into them, I could not make out what was in them.

I just was relieved that I did not find a silhouette in there that resembled Lisbeth.

That relief was washed away quickly.

I stepped into the quarters I knew so well… and my gaze was immediately caught by the slender figure that was chained to one of the bedposts.

Lisbeth.

She looked terrible.

The shifting, emerald-crimson light in the Scrying Chamber and the short glimpse in the other quarters I had caught at her before had not been enough to truly assess the damage.

Being educated in hurting another humanoid being now was a curse. I knew exactly what Vect had done to her. Mostly, she was covered with bruises, little of her once fair skin shone through. What really appalled me were the locations of the spots at which the cuts were set. They were placed so that every movement would hurt her horrifyingly. Each skin fold and joint cavity bore a cut (or several small ones), as well as her palms, fingertips, spaces between her fingers and toes and the soles of her feet. Judging from the chafing and redness of her skin in those places, those were not the first cuts she had received. Those cuts were done not with the intent to truly damage, but to hurt.

Even though I was very well aware that it was a trap, I could not help myself. I went up to her, sat gently on the bed in front of her and quietly asked, "Lisbeth… is there anything I can do for you?"

With a visible effort of strength, she lifted her head and looked at me with those nearly dead eyes. "Go away… you are not real…" she stammered, voice breaking.

What in the blazes had Vect done to her?

"Lisbeth… please… I am here!" I insisted.

But she just started to shake her head frantically.

It was no use. Apparently, she thought I was some kind of hallucination. Words would not change her mind.

Maybe there was something physical I could do for her that would convince her?

It did not take me long to realise that her lips were chapped. She had to be thirsty.

That could work.

I got up and went up to the table, filling a cup with some water. Then, I went back to Lisbeth. I lifted her head gently. At first, she struggled, but as soon as the water touched her lips, she started drinking greedily.

Gods, he tortured her in every way conceivable.

After she had drunk, she coughed. I was concerned that she would throw up, but luckily, she did not. Cleaning Lisbeth up would have been more complicated and would have given Vect pointers to what had transpired here.

If he did not already watch, of which I was dreadfully sure.

But I could not bring myself to ignoring her and leaving her like this.

After that, Lisbeth looked at me again and said, stuttering, "Te… mira? Is it… is it really… you?"

I smiled sadly and replied, "Yes, Lisbeth, it really is me."

Her eyes went wide with disbelief and she started sobbing uncontrollably. "I… I thought… he… you…"

I could not just look at her anymore. I came to her and gently hugged her, careful not to hurt her. I felt all too well that she recoiled at first, but then she let herself go and her head sunk against my shoulder.

I held her for a while, as she cried tears of relief. As much as I wanted to, I could not loosen her shackles. As it was custom for the Overlord, he had used a quite complicated technique to bind her, and there was no way in hell I would be able to replicate it.

It took her some time, but eventually, she calmed down. I wiped the tears from her face and helped her to blow her nose. With a soft smile, I asked her, "Better?"

"Yeah…" she replied, sounding a lot more like the friend I knew. The notion hit me that this moment was possibly the first time she could let her emotions flow and ease some of the pressure that was on her.

"What the hell, Lisbeth?" I asked.

"Don't, Temira. You'll get into trouble. And you do not want to get into trouble," Lisbeth replied, genuine terror in her expression.

I shook my head. "That is not your responsibility. If so, it is my choice."

"Alright," she said, but did not sound convinced, "but, you see, he showed me so many ways you died…"

"...and none of them were real. I see," I finished her sentence.

Hallucinogens. It shook me. Not because of the method, but because Vect himself had said that it was a method that did not reap much soul energy for him. His opinion of Lisbeth had to be as low as the Undercore...

"So, you did it, huh?" Lisbeth said, trying to sound casual, but the defeated and panicked inflexion did not leave her entirely. She was completely wrecked, that much was clear.

"Yes. Let's not go into detail. I don't have much time," I replied. "But why did he…"

"...beat me up like that? I'm not sure anymore, honestly. But… he likes you more, I guess. A lot more. Be careful, Temira!"

I nodded. Seeing Lisbeth like this made me understand some things. Sure, I had the advantage of Vlokarion's training. And apparently, I smelt nice. But that was not enough to make the Overlord treat me so differently, I figured.

And Malys had said it too, I now remembered, "Make no mistake, child, you are only still sane and alive because he has some plans for you."

I was sure of that. Yet, it mattered little. I would not get behind them.

"I see," I just replied. Burdening Lisbeth with my pondering was the last thing she needed. Shaking my head, I added, "I have to leave soon. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No… thank you. If I drink any more, I'm... gonna pee myself," Lisbeth stated, looking away.

I understood perfectly. The cold feeling in my stomach grew stronger.

Not reacting to her implication, I said, "Okay. I… I'll do my best to be around again. I'm so sorry…" My voice broke under sadness. Not tears. Emotion. It was a new rush, I realised. How much had I suppressed my emotions without even noticing it? Even though I felt sad, I felt… warm. Fresh. Alive.

I realised I could not cry. Seeing Lisbeth like this drove a spear into my heart, but for the love of any god in this universe, I could not cry. Had I forgotten how to do it? Had they beaten all the tears out of me?

"Alright. Go! You're going to be late anyway!" Lisbeth said in a hushed tone.

I nodded, getting up. I put the cup back where I had taken it from, then climbed stairs and quickly found the spirit my master had demanded. I once more realised my strength, as I did not feel exhausted in the slightest after that steep climb. Before my training, it had been an effort.

Back down, I said, "Goodbye. Keep your chin up." It felt hollow.

"Yeah. You too," Lisbeth replied.

Shamefully, I had to admit that I fled the room.

Finding the right spot on the wall was easy again. Two times, actually.

But my mind was not here.

It was still back in those quarters, with the broken woman that was my best friend… or what was left of her.

I now only started to understand what 'broken' actually meant. Even though that… person back there looked like Lisbeth and even somehow talked a bit like her, it was not her. Vect had ripped a huge part of her out and replaced it with that constantly afraid and panicked thing she was now. That was what breaking a person meant. Forcing them into a mould of your desire and beating them so long until they fit into there. Reshaping a personality completely through horror.

I felt sick.

Only now I realised that I stood in the real (?) quarters, motionless, completely lost in thought.

My saving grace was that the Overlord was not in this room anymore.

However, my enhanced hearing picked up some sounds from the bathroom.

Without further hesitation, pushing another horror into the far back of my mind, I went into the bathroom.

There, I beheld a sight that was weird for me to see, but somehow at the same time I wondered why I had not seen it earlier.

The Overlord was in the bathtub, but he enjoyed the company of three Lhamaeans.

With one he was currently engaged in a deep kiss, the second one massaged him and the third one apparently gave him a blowjob. She obviously was the unlucky one, as she had to work under water, his left hand in her hair. In these seconds, he pulled her to the surface. My notion of her being the unlucky one got reinforced as Vect barely gave her enough time to catch a deep breath before pushing her down below again, his left hand firmly grasping her hair. She had to be suffocating.

Ending the kiss with a smile, my master looked at me and said, "That took you long enough! You don't plan on starting to get disobedient now?"

The absolute casualness, with which he said that took me aback for a second. Vect talked to me like there was nothing else going on right now. It tipped me off because he had never treated sexuality so complacently. It had always been very sincere and ritualistic with me.

Then again, I had always wondered why he only had sex with me. It had always seemed so surreal. I had figured that one mon-keigh woman could never satiate the Overlord's appetite in that regard.

Maybe it was just another subject he had taken it easy with me until now, and now the velvet gloves were coming off.

I better got used to it.

"No, Overlord," I said, again incredibly careful to not leave out his title, especially in the company of some underlings of his. "Unless you frown upon me talking to Lisbeth, that is, my lord," I added dutifully, knowing that he probably knew anyways.

Vect chuckled. "Curious," he said, tilting his head, "I know that you are sharp enough to understand that I do mind. Yet, you point it out. Others would have tried to omit this. Why do you not, I wonder?"

"Because I guess that you probably know anyways and also, because I know that it was a test I apparently failed, Overlord. There is no point in lying," I replied. There was no way out of this. I would suffer for my failure.

He laughed, now full-heartedly, pulling the Lhamaean away from his crotch and to the surface, letting go of her hair. She fought hard for air, coughing heavily. The slight purple colour of her face showed me that she indeed had been about to suffocate.

Still laughing, Vect backhanded her and growled at her, the laughter suddenly cued, his inflexion changing as fast as lightning, underlining how malicious his laughter had been, "Keep it down!"

Then, my master looked at me again, smiling balefully. "Indeed, there is no point in lying," he said, then pulling the Lhamaean he apparently currently tormented, close to him. The Overlord hissed into her ear, "Do you hear that?" She fought hard to quietly catch her breath. "Curious that a slave has more wits than you, yes?"

She nodded and managed to breathe, "Yes, Overlord."

Vect let go of her hair and stroked her cheek in a mocking manner. "Good! Use that lesson, hmm?" Without even caring for her hasty nodding, he turned to me. "As to you," he smiled, baring his fangs, "get into the tub."

I bowed slightly, put the spirit bottle close to a set of cups I saw, then undressed and joined the bath. The heat was barely manageable, but I would be damned if I disobeyed him because of such a mild discomfort. As I did, Vect pushed the disgraced Lhamaean away and patted the place beside him, indicating that I was to join him at his side.

Of course, I obeyed without hesitation, even though my throat felt positively crushed again as I was so close to him. With ease, he drew me against him, his smooth skin touching mine… and his tongue finding its way immediately into my mouth.

I gasped as he kissed me. I had already found with Vlokarion that my taste buds had a lot more in store for me. The Overlord's icy, herbal smell mixed with his taste. His saliva tasted like ice-cold spring water, mixed with heavy, bitter herbs. The longer he kissed me, the more intense the herbal component got… until it started to taste of blood. It was something I knew very deeply; my training and the Carnival had taught me that taste all too well. Yet, it was not the same. There was something… richer… to it. It took a while, as Vect took his while with me, but before I could identify it, he bit me. I stood the short prick of pain and the burning sensation without flinching. I had felt much worse. Now, the taste of my own blood drowned everything I got to sense from him. Just metallic notes showered my tongue, not even that he licked most of it off helped.

After the Overlord had enough, and before I could identify the last nuance, he ended the kiss.

Holding me with just the slight touch of his hand on my cheek, he had me stare into the two obsidian voids that were his eyes. It still was a gaze for me I could barely meet and that felt like he was drilling a hole into me.

"Mmh, being away and having your body steeled did good on you, Temira," he said. He let his hand slide off my face and tapped his index finger repeatedly against my lips. "What to do with you… You failed the test yet were brave enough to admit it. Also, you have earned a punishment because you talked to Vlokarion at the festivities. Yet, you won the Carnival. You never make it easy, do you, Temira?"

How Vect enjoyed this.

For all the ways I adored and worshipped him, I despised him in those moments. He was just toying with me, I knew that he had already set his mind on my punishment, probably long before I had even gotten here. My master most likely also had anticipated that I would fail the slight test he had set up for me and that I would tell him about it.

After his fake consideration, Vect smiled viciously and said, "Ah, I think I got it. How about I have you punished in a pleasant way? Not all the way pleasant, of course, but far more enjoyable than just pain."

With the slightest movement of his left hand, while his right now was at my cheek again, the disgraced Lhamaean drew closer again.

"Just perfect," Vect said, towards the Lhamaean, without even looking at her, "You will show her some levels of ecstasy she knows nothing about. Maybe you will be more grateful to be allowed to work on me after tasting some mon-keigh fluids. Hurt her a bit, but not much. Keep her on the edge until I say otherwise. She has a lot to discover." Breathing another kiss onto my forehead, he whispered to me, "Enjoy it… and suffer, my child."

Before I could reply anything, he drew away again, and practically in the same moment, the Lhamaean embraced me in the first of many kisses.

---

The garden made such moments simply perfect for him. Of course, the caresses and massages he received from the two Lhamaeans helped, but they were just a baseline for it.

Vect closed his eyes and inhaled the intoxicatingly sweet fragrance of the plants around him. As he did, his senses were flooded with the extreme sensations of lust and pain at the same time, which engulfed his mind, as the third Lhamaean had her way with his slave in his bed.

Humiliating the obstreperous Lhamaean with forcing her to use her talents on a mere slave was a good punishment for her, which would make her think twice about being reluctant with him. Of course, she would never be allowed to touch him ever again, but she would make a good tool in educating his young slave. Also, her tumbled emotions of humiliation, yet reluctant enjoyment of her task, were a pleasant addendum to what else he got to feel.

Temira's well-measured suffering was delightful to take in; she was young and that made the whole process oh-so much sweeter. It was a raw, wild, yet inexplicably luscious taste and he sighed with delight. Yes, this was indeed one of the sweetest meals he had had in quite a while. The main course had been rather bland, the usual. What a dessert for his senses the girl was!

He opened his eyes.

Yet...

Something was...

Off.

He frowned, closed his eyes again and concentrated on the sensations that flooded his mind and body, invigorating them. Though her suffering felt so exquisite and spicy, like a fine wine on his tongue, there was a flavour in there that made it taste somewhat strange. It took him a while to discern what it was, and it was so subtle that even he, who was a true master of drawing out the slightest, tastable nuance of suffering, had a hard time discerning it.

As he finally did, an evil smile curled his lips and a soft chuckle escaped him.

Though it was a strange sensation on his highly discerning palate, it was just so... perfect.

He chuckled again.

The best thing was that she was not aware of it... yet.

Or did she lie to herself, already beginning to understand?

It was hard to tell.

Because deep, deep down, at the bottom of her subconscious, she enjoyed it all. Not the sole pain, no, she was not the type for that, but she relished the combination of pain and lust and the unfulfilled sensation of the latter.

Now not solely interested in the regenerating waves that washed over him, he turned his senses attentively to her. His nose caught whiffs of sweat, tears, blood, and secretions of pure lust, all underlined with the intoxicating musk of suffering and excitement. His ears... well, it was hard to miss her screams and moans of pleasure and agony. On his tongue, he could taste her despair and enjoyment at the same time, the saltiness of her sweat; it was a bittersweet taste, the one he loved the most. And his tactile senses were so overloaded with her emotions that he neither felt the soft ground he was lying on, nor the work the other two Lhamaeans did on him.

Knowing that they had to restrain themselves to not partake in the regenerating suffering of Temira, yet having this sweetness in front of their noses, just added to the beauty of the moment for him.

Total dominance. He never got tired of that feeling.

The artificial connection between Temira and him made all this rather interesting. It had been a fantastic idea of his to link himself to her like that. Even though her emotions were still nothing but a spark, they were nourishing.

The longer he sensed her, the more he enjoyed it, as her body started to slowly take over her mind, its deeply in pleasure engulfed throes pushing her clear thoughts away and a new, even better taste arose for him: her slow realisation of how much she enjoyed what she got to feel from that mistress of pleasure and sweet torture. Yes, she enjoyed it, yet at the same time loathed it, hated herself for it. The helplessness was killing her… and stroking him.

Her dismay enticed him softly and with surprise he found himself a bit aroused by the sensation. It was quite unlike him. Those emotions were nothing new, he had seen it before. He attributed why he liked it so much to the sheer taste of Temira's suffering. Those nuances were rather pleasant, and 'rather pleasant' was not something that came all too easy to him these days.

He now was aware that he would have her tonight, he would stop the Lhamaean when she was at the peak of her performance and he would have Temira close by when he decided to release her tormented body, the moment when he would drink her relief and her shame of showing him how much she enjoyed it.

His doppelgänger had not lied. This one was dulcet.

It was a notion that indeed made him wonder. It had been a while since the last time he had deigned to rape a mon-keigh. Even though it was a good torture method, he only could bring himself to it with the fewest of them. Most were just too disgusting and too far below him. Sure, there were instruments for that too, but the best form of rape was still the true one. It was just more… intimate. Physical. Closer.

There was no doubt about that – Temira was his slave, and she was just as below him. But her physique made it possible for him. He would try it. See how it was. He doubted that there would be many repetitions of that. It never took long before he tired of the same toy, woman or not. And Temira was simply not trained enough to arouse him on her own accords, delectable taste or not. For that, he needed more skilled hands.

Also, he chuckled again, as he noticed how quickly her mind got overtaken by her body, her lust sweeping it all away – clear thoughts, modesty, restraint... She was even engaging to him in this state, her personality bared.

And what a whore she was.

No wonder Ea'nash had gone mad for her. As little as he thought of him, he had always been good with sniffing out the slaves with the richest appetite, no matter the gender.

Temira did not know right now, but he would show her that he knew everything about her and that nothing of her thoughts and feelings was kept from him. It would be fun to play with her around in this manner. He loved imagining her face when he would tell her.

However, for all her deliciousness, it remained to be seen whether she was the one he was truly looking for.

A slow smile curled his lips again.

He was already looking forward to the game of solving that riddle.

---

And mister Overlord is back! This time for realsies!
What do you think about the chapter? Let me know! Make my day!

Love,

Shâtî