Testing The Grounds (gfed)

[Malia]

When asked, Malia gave the same answer she had given everyone else who had asked. She couldn’t lie, so she wrapped the truth into delicate and soft words. With an empty expression on her features she replied: “He has stolen something I must take back.” Then she hesitated, considering if she should tell the whole story. The priest deserved and needed to know it. Eventually she explained in short, precise words what Kahnikivas had done to her family. Her voice was devoid of any emotions, simply retelling the happenings as if she had heard them from a wandering storyteller herself.

The following grin annoyed her, but she tried to stay calm. The ‘boss’ somehow managed to get all the information he wanted from her. Why was she so easily moldable in his hands? Her mind felt like a wet piece of clay when she stared into his knowing eyes. Because she got absorbed with trying to solve that riddle, the next statement caught her off guard. I am his? Apparently her opponent had a better understanding of that devil’s inner life than she. Suddenly Malia remembered what Tanroa had told her about Kahnikivas … This other piece of the puzzle fit perfectly, she realized. Kahnikivas was such a person. But that was little more than another reason to free the world from him!

Anyway, obviously the boss held something back. He gently stroked her head again and Malia started to dislike the gesture. To her it was clear that he wanted her to say or do something in particular. Perhaps she had been foolish to tell him of her true story. No matter how she had introduced herself to him, the fake name wouldn’t help now that he knew her past. Malia inwardly cursed herself for being so trusting. What was the matter with her?

But again, she couldn’t resist him, was bound by the strange spell his hands and voice were weaving around her. Then he encouraged her to spit out what was burning inside her … what she had held back for seasons. Her pale features distorted into a grimace that couldn’t be called human anymore. Still, she struggled to control the outburst. “How are you able to help, a priest of the Metadead as you call it?” she claimed. “He must pay back. I will let him pay back for everything he has done.”

Strong emotions were present. In fact Malia’s Nuit body seemed to tremble with emotions she couldn’t describe.

[Panna Cotta]

For all his grandfatherliness, the Boss had a few terrible things to reveal to Malia. "Ah, unfortunately, help you I cannot. Help is never freely given, and a Nuit such as yours truly have no need to show an unwanted visitor such kindness."

He paced away from Malia, and looked much more stern. "You see, Kahnikivas is of Rhysol, and I cannot even begin to illustrate the myriad of things that a follower of the god could want with you. To give you an idea," the Boss continued, "Look at yourself. You are now undead, and should be thankful for Uldr. You may think that Uldr plays the same team as Rhysol, but they are not exactly allies, so to speak." He was getting somewhere, somewhere Malia couldn't have thought of, but must now contemplate. "Uldr can give you the power to defeat your enemy, that, I am sure of. Our meeting here must have been fate itself, Azola. For we are looking for numbers to increase our count. Offer yourself to Uldr, and the power shall be yours."

He distanced himself for a while, letting Malia think. He decided to speak to her after a bell or two, "I am offering you a choice, Azola. Evil can only be defeated by evil alone, and the path I can lay down in front of you is one of the many you can choose."

The Boss waited for her answer before he strode towards her, whispering the hallowed words, "You have run astray from the light, that much I can tell. Maybe that is what Kahnikivas wanted you for, to bring you into the folds of darkness. For have you not, because due to your predicament, you have forced your Master to become a Nuit, turning you into one as well?"

"Now, to my opinion," his eyes softening, gestures kinder, "What you have is nothing but a lost cause. But, it is a cause like many others, and I can offer you power to guide your way. I respect your thirst and hunger for vengeance. You will meet Kahnikivas again," he predicted, "but then you will be the antagonist. The evil one. The one feared and hated. After all, revenge is evil in itself, and that is what you plan to carry out, am I right?"

He smiled, "So, what do you think about taking your innate devilness up a notch?"

[Malia]

For all his apparent kindness and willingness to give her power to defeat her enemy, Malia couldn’t fully trust the priest yet. His alluring words had turned her brain into a sponge, yet she couldn’t just say yes and be done with it. There was more to what he said, and she had to contemplate that.

For that, her mind wandered back to the day when Tanroa had revealed her past to Malia, in Syliras or wherever it had been where their meeting had taken place. The Goddess had showed Kahnikivas and the destruction he had brought upon Malia’s whole family back then. He had demanded her father to give what he loved most – Malia. The Nuit had known that it would destroy her father and his brother, had known that they would give in to the chaos he had turned their lives into. Kahnikivas was a person who existed to destroy other people’s lives.

So was she allowed to defeat the enemy with his own means? Play his cards against him? What the priest told her about evil meant nothing. Evil was nothing she could work with. Evil was the ghost of little children and innocent humans believing in the unequivocal dichotomy of the Gods. Evil merely was a label they could hurl at enemies so that vengeance could be justified and their soul freed from any sin. Malia didn’t need anything like that. Decades of contemplation had taught her that good as well as evil only existed as much as mankind wanted them to. She herself didn’t need to call Kahnikivas evil to want a vengeance. She merely wanted balance. He had destroyed her, so she had to destroy him in turn. It was very simple.

And then she remembered what Tanroa had said. There was a reason why she had sought out this one Goddess out of the whole Mizaharian pantheon. She had longed for balance, for fairness in the game of life. Although she hadn’t been conscious of that, amnesia had set her at a disadvantage. Tanroa had given her back the most important memories so she could meet Kahnikivas at eye level – and she had given her the gnosis mark. “Treavery will grant you control of time, at least in a small ways at first. Use this to help yourself and others... for Rhysol touches the world and you will cross paths with those that serve him much like Kahnikivas.” It was also true what the priest had said: Rhysol and Uldr played in the same team, figuratively speaking. Wasn’t that a good reason for Malia to be suspicious and perhaps turn down the offer?

Before she could make a decision, however, she needed more facts. The priest had spoken much, but now that she had hesitated and cleared her mind, she saw through their outward appearance. He wanted her for his God. Perhaps as a sacrifice. She didn’t know what he was up to, after all. But Tanroa had told her to be careful. So she finally spoke to the priest again, with a voice that was bare of any emotions or clues about her current state: “Before I can agree, I must know the details of this offer. I see this as fair, since I know almost nothing about Uldr. What does ‘offering myself’ include? And what kind of power is He able to grant me?” Obviously she was interested, but the priest’s answers would determine the case.

Slowly turning the lyre around in her hands, trying to appear trustworthy, Malia waited.

QuoteOf course, I'm quoting Gossamer playing Tanroa here.

[Panna Cotta]

"There are no details to the offer, dear." Boss said, "I am only offering you a choice, for I can sense a tiny tiny glimmer of desperation inside you." He laid a hand on her chest. "Uldr will give you power, right where and when you need it the most. He can amplify your abilities, send his minions to your aid, provide you with the right wealth and power to cause death and destruction..." And then came the truth. Softly at first, one after another.

"But we talk too much about Kahnikivas," the Boss stepped away and paced towards the temple's aisle, voice booming as if he was preaching. "In a sense, your Master had found reprieve by offering you to Uldr. You are undead. And Uldr is the god of the undead. See the logic in that, dear Azola?" The Boss chimed and chuckled, "Had it not been for Uldr, you would not have eluded Kahnikivas this long." The statement was confusing, but the Boss seemed to be trying to make a point.

"Have you thought about it Azola, the death and destruction your father had brought just to keep you alive?" He asked suggestively, spreading his arms dramatically. "Can you imagine your father, abandoning hope, running over to call to the god of undead to help him defeat his own undead?" And he added, "Of course, Uldr cannot turn down one who seeks to spread his power and influence and salvation through the undead life. A Nuit for a Nuit." He meant that the unlife of Kahnikivas, if he is to die, was to be replaced by Malia's. Uldr would not like a decrease in numbers, but if her Master promised "More undead..." An indication or suggestion that her father is building an army of undead?

Malia would probably hate the Boss right now, for teasing her with little bits of information here and there. Incoherent is the word, but it seemed like the Boss intentionally gave her little pieces of a puzzle for her to work on. He stopped, and followed a different trail of clues, "How many times do you think did he have to kill a fair maiden in order to provide you with a proper body? That was a bit stereotypical, offering virgins - or were they - for Uldr." He sighed dramatically, pretending to be lonely. "And then, when his duty required him to do greater things than kill a maiden here and there for his lovely daughter..."

Boss knew now why Uldr had brought this child to him. She was coming home. He found his anger subsiding, a fresh feeling of confidence replacing it. The God had brought him a stray to be placed in the right path. Ah, of course, a priest must do what he must. He could understand his God now.

"I did not know Kahnikivas, but I sure did know your father." A mad gleam in his eyes. "Tell me, how DESPERATE are you to find him?"

[Malia]

No details meant that she had to make the decision based on whether she trusted this strange man or not. Her outward appearance seemed calm, almost frozen in time for she didn’t move a muscle now. When she was thinking, all concentration was turned towards the facts and plans. No motion would disturb that process.

Then, however, it seemed that the priest couldn’t help but offer bits of information. Lures, perhaps, to make her accept the offer. Suddenly he brought up the topic of her ‘Master’ who also was her father. It couldn’t be helped; Malia didn’t see herself as his daughter. Too much time had been spent in oblivion. Her memories of their journeys through the wilderness, hiding and learning, were still the most present ones she had of him. They had experienced and endured much together, and during the time their bond had strengthened. While the priest continued rambling, he actually caused Malia to think about how her ‘Master’ must have felt.

Sometimes they would speak about the fact that she didn’t remember her life as a human. “You were a gift”, he would say and smile. “Tanroa made you cross my way so I wouldn’t be lonely on my travels. There is something I have to do. Being immortal, I’m sure I can reach my goal in due time. But you are my comrade, right? You will always be by my side, right?”

Always, always she would answer: “I will, Master. I will always help you with what you must do.” Thinking back, she realized that she hadn’t grasped the full meaning of his words. Probably all his words had been the pure truth. Even those particular ones …

“I have created you because I needed company. That was not the only reason, though.” He had looked thoughtful, but his voice had been tinged with bitterness Malia had never been able to explain. “I have made many mistakes. When looking back, I sometimes wonder whether I haven’t overdone it. The human mind cannot endure too much power. I have made a contract … and this is the price.”

Oh, and sometimes he would talk to himself and say: “Always, always do I misjudge the prices. I receive, but I could never give enough.”

Even back then she had wondered whether he had meant some kind of curse. Tanroa was smiling upon them; she was sure, but some evil god had perhaps …

Standing where she was now, some things made sense to Malia. Of course, she couldn’t be sure if the priest told the truth. She still believed that her ‘Master’ was a good man fighting for a just cause. Centuries of contemplation and loneliness had strengthened her beliefs. Sometimes she had felt weak, vulnerable … but she had always been sure of that one thing.

Her ‘Master’, Jovian, had always been the center of her world.

If he had some kind of contract with Uldr, for making Malia undead, for removing Kahnikivas from Mizahar, she could trust the priest’s words – to a certain extent – and accept the offer. If Jovian had stood at the same crossroads, made the same decision, there was nothing wrong in doing the same. Perhaps she would be able to help him better if she bore Uldr’s mark, had powers of her own. Yes, Tanroa had already blessed her with a certain power of her own making, but Hers was more subtle. They were talking about a Nuit, after all. It would be more than reasonable to have the God of Undead on her side.

Slowly, but surely one side of Malia’s internal scales bent down. The decision had to be made soon.

In the end the priest’s last words turned the balance. Emotions she had kept hidden and suppressed suddenly danced in her eyes. An eternal fire of desire was burning inside the usually cool darkness. The difference was quite shocking.

Before eliminating Kahnikivas, she had to find her ‘Master’. Together they would be strong, like before. That had always been clear to her. But she had no hint, no clue whatsoever of his whereabouts. Perhaps the priest knew something? Her only choice would be to visit her family’s offspring in Karjin. She doubted that they knew anything, though. Her father and his brother had long been gone and most likely forgotten by the rest of the family. Perhaps they wouldn’t even remember her.

Finally she made the decision. Move forward and never turn back. That was something she had found out for herself. Uldr could give her power in exchange for her sacrifice – and whatever that sacrifice exactly entailed, she needed the power to make a change.

“I will accept and offer myself to Uldr, as you call it”, she declared after a long pause. Her voice almost sounded like she didn’t care at all. Almost. Still she kept a watchful eye on the priest. She would try her best to avoid being cheated by either him or his god. However, she would follow him and any instructions about how to get Uldr’s favor.

Master, I will help you. Fulfill the unspoken promise.

[Tarot]

The Boss did not immediately reply, halfway between pleased and surprised. He had not anticipated Malia's acceptance of Uldr. The thought of being deceived certainly crossed him, but right now there was absolutely no risk for him in introducing the Nuit to Uldr. When talking to the gods, pledging allegiance was not something to be done lightheartedly, for most of them bound mortals to the letter of the law, not its spirit. An oath was an oath whether you crossed your fingers or not. "Very well," he spoke at last, taking a few steps backwards. "We shall therefore bring your case to Uldr's attention. Not that we need to, of course... the gods exist wherever their domain exists. Uldr has as many eyes and ears as he has followers, my dear. It will not be..." It will not be long before Uldr himself manifests in front of you, that was what he wanted to say. He stopped abruptly, though, his body beginning to shake into convulsions. It also seemed to be inflating at a rapid pace as the Boss tried to keep a semblance of self-control. He did not seem scared, as if this had already happened before, but it was certainly creepy to behold. He bent over, his jaws parting to such a grotesque amount that no living creature could have managed such a feat. His neck had also swollen to an incredible girth, snapping his necklace and making it fall on the floor. Suddenly, a pale hand shot out of the Boss' gaping mouth, grabbing his nose whereas a second hand secured itself against his chin. Out of the mouth came a head, then a neck and the rest of a young boy's body, dressed in a formal black suit and silk trousers. The priest fell to his knees as his body quickly returned to its normal size. Obviously, a normal Nuit body would have been torn apart by such a phenomenon, but not the Boss. Apparently being a follower of Uldr gave the undead some additional perks. The boy had smooth brown locks framed by a serious haircut and polished shoes. He had some kind of perennial pout on his face. He looked like one of those sons of well-off pre-Valterrian families who studied away from home in some rigid college where dinner etiquette was a code of laws in and of itself. Perhaps not what one would expect of the dreadful god of the undead. "Greetings, Miss Azola. I have plenty of names, but Uldr will do just fine," he made the beginning of a bow at the Nuit and proceeded to seat himself on the Boss' arched back, shiny shoes dangling in the air. "I have indeed overheard your conversation with my chairman on this island." Even the gods were not above puns, it seemed. "I will be delighted to help with your revenge. You could say I exist for most practical purposes in order to facilitate revenge. There are some people who would believe vengeance to be a senseless act, but for me, if someone hurts you, it is only natural to want to get back at them, is it not? To do otherwise means that people just do not care. Love cannot exist without equal and opposite hate for those who take it away from us." He never blinked throughout the speech. His eyes were pitch black, but had a reddish highlight, as if there was some red mirror inside. "I shall give you power to aid in your quest. A stronger body, better senses, a sharper mind. In exchange, you will forever hunger to bring others to me. When you see someone being tragically wronged, you will feel compelled to point them to me. You can forge the wrongdoing yourself, for all I care. What is important is that you bring me three worthy servants in return for your first mark. Does that sound like a fair deal, Miss Azola?"

[Malia]

Malia regarded the priest and his new speech with a slightly impatient stare, but just then something happened that wiped every expression off her face. The priest opened his mouth … or, rather, something forced it open and crawled out of the depths of his undead body. He, however, seemed not scared or panicked in the least. Perhaps he had experienced or seen similar happenings before. It certainly had something to do with Uldr.

And then, just like the main character in a play He Himself showed up.

Even Malia couldn’t deny the surprise that was obvious when she shifted and felt the instrument in her hands. It seemed like such a fragile, ordinary thing in the presence of a God. But at the same time, she would present herself in the best light possible. Gods were even more unpredictable than humans, although she could see adding the similarities up would certainly be of use. Later. When the young boy with the aristocratic demeanor separated from his follower’s body and got seated, she straightened. One hand resting on her hip, the other one holding the lyre, she faced the God that had come to support her with an indifferent expression.

The first part of His speech sounded vaguely familiar to her, although the usage of words such as love and hate slightly irritated her. How would someone carry out a revenge influenced by those feelings? Malia herself preferred a different approach to things. Only careful planning, knowledge and a sharpened mind could help someone on the way to the top. Feelings were not essential, although she slowly started to understand that they might be a helpful prerequisite for certain situations. Like the one she had just experienced. Uldr had come because she had displayed her desire to find the Master. Was that the one detail that caused Gods and Goddesses to act?

Pushing that thought aside for later, she focused on the conditions. The advantages were certainly useful to her. Instinctively she knew that Kahnikivas would never give in without pulling off a good fight – either of minds, of physical strength or both –, so she had to be prepared in every way possible. It seemed that Uldr could aid her in both disciplines. Although she kept her suspicious attitude, she could certainly trust a God. It was the image mortals had of the divine.

To every fairytale there was a true core, right?

When you see someone being tragically wronged … It sounded like a fair price. He was referring to people like Malia herself, to those who had been disappointed or otherwise hurt and longed for means to defend themselves. As much as she had tried to believe in other principles, power was what eventually ruled the world and power was what could transform a character with the will and hardened mind into a person capable of making a change.

And it was all about making a change to the world, wasn’t it? Even the Gods weren’t above working for a positive change to their domain.

Three of those people who wanted a change were conditions she could fulfill – especially considering the fact that He hadn’t spoken of a timeframe. It also meant that three people could become more powerful than her, right? But, alas, she had to use her mind on both sides, when working for Uldr and when working for herself. She wasn’t as foolish as to regard Uldr as a trusted ally, after all. One piece of the puzzle was missing, though.

“What kind of person do you consider a worthy servant? I will accept your conditions if you let me know this one thing.” A cold smile manifested on her features, an expression she had shown nobody before. It was the dark, calculating side that fit so well with Uldr and His goals.

Indeed, she would sign a contract with ichor, if necessary, but she would also carefully preserve every single word. She hoped to get the God of Undeath as a useful ally, despite the dangers and traps surely lurking in the shadows.

[Tarot]

"Oh, that one is easy, Miss Azola," Uldr said politely, feet still dangling in the air as he sat upon the Boss' back. "In the worlds of our own making, we are always the best. Those in the right. Those who deserve. Those who should get what they want. To which I say, why not?" The god of the undead laced his fingers together and smiled subtly. "Look for yourself in others. The things that make you great, the things that make you the best. Your own greatness reflected in different eyes. That will be a good starting point in drawing in my followers. And if you play your cards right, those could be your followers, as well." Uldr closed his eyes momentarily and smiled. "Our deal is sealed." That much was enough. Malia had said that she would accept him if he'd tell her about the servants she was to recruit. He had fulfilled the condition. Uldr, an oddity among the gods, could not mark anyone without their consent, but it took the god but a minor sign of acceptance to bypass the system. Malia's response might have seemed one of only partial committal, but it was all the lord of the undead really needed. His eyes shot open, and this time they were a full red, brimming over with blood that started flowing down his cheeks. "Come undone, Returned," he spoke, and it wasn't a kid's voice anymore, but a harsh growl from the beyond. Malia felt the air around her become charged with a strange power, a buzz ringing in her eardrums. The god's bloody stare was fixed on her, and it seemed to scorch the room like a heatless sun. The Boss - it was the last thing she could see clearly - was grinning on all fours. Then she felt like she was hit by an anvil head on. A silent shockwave flooded her, dissolving her world into a myriad dots of red and black. Malia's skin cracked and burned, coming apart in large patches and revealing softly decaying flesh underneath. The flesh fell apart too, floating up and unlacing itself from the bone. Malia's existence exploded for a long instant of non-being. Then, it slowly Returned to her. Muscle and sinew once more fastened around bleached bone, long forgotten organs fit themselves into her assembling ribcage. Hair regrew from her scalp and skin gravitated back to the flesh, wrapping itself around her body. At the end of the process she stood, naked, in front of Uldr, her clothes lying at her feet. Steam rose from her body as the transformation cooled down. Ironically enough, she looked just like before, except that she was possibly even more ageless than before and, if she had had a mirror handy, she'd have seen the same reddish undertone that Uldr possessed in the back of her eyes, as well. And there was a Gnosis mark, a black ring on the left side of her neck, that had not been been there before. "Most excellent," said Uldr, blinking and wiping the blood off of his eyes, "you will make a splendid servant. The mark of Tanroa only makes you even more appealing. Tell me, my dear, can you feel it inside you? You are a true undead now. A Nuit is merely a maggot. A larval stage to prepare the mind for this. The way you are now, though, you will still have to hunt for new bodies. You are, after all, still on the bottom rung." Gone was the eternal sluggishness of the Nuit. For all practical purposes, Malia's body felt as tight and responsive as that of the living. Deep inside, though, there was something else, as well. Like a weight placed on Malia's heart, a burden. Like a slowly burning feeling that threatened to grow the more you listened to it. As if on cue, Uldr called it by its true name. "I have gifted you with my Hate. Give it tenderness and care, and it will blossom into something beautiful. If I may be as bold as to offer a suggestion, you may as well start by hating me to your heart's content. You will find it helpful and I will find it delightful." He covered his smile with one hand, polite as ever.

[Malia]

At Uldr’s answer, she was disgusted and delighted at the same time. It sounded easy, but it also sounded cruel and selfish. Malia had never been selfish. While she had grown up in a household that would allow her such, she had always been content with what she had. The people around her had always mattered more than herself. She had isolated herself from the rest, but only so she could view them without prejudice. As a Nuit, she had clung to her ‘Master’ and then to Tanroa, the Goddess that gave her back her past and gifted her with a vision of the future.

Could she really justify being selfish for herself?

Anyway, the God didn’t give her enough time to think that over. Instead He closed His eyes, gave a smile that smelled of decay and claimed the deal to be sealed. The words were simple, but Malia didn’t underestimate them or their origin. Then His eyes opened, filled with red blood that stained His smooth cheeks of a boy. Malia felt the blood calling for her, whispering bittersweet temptations, strangely, because she had no connection with blood whatsoever. Hers was white as milk. Yet the sight of the thick, red liquid moved something inside her.

And then her rotting corpse was torn apart. Skin was ripped from burning flesh, empty holes remained from eyes and mouth and nose and ears, muscles pulled apart. Bones were separated from their joints while one by one her inner organs simply plopped out of their respective places. Uldr and his follower were watching and smiling as Malia’s whole existence fractured, turned into its tiniest particles and rearranged itself. As fast as she had been destroyed, she was assembled anew. Bones formed, connected, were clad in muscles and flesh and skin. Ichor returned to veins and her heart started pumping it through every cell of her cold body again. For a mere moment her existence had been replaced by destruction, followed by something she couldn’t name, and then she had been given a new existence. Malia stood there like before, with two differences: The material belongings she had carried with her were destroyed, and there was something else …

When she looked at Uldr, the side of her neck started to burn. Rubbing it with a hand, Malia briefly wondered why Gods always marked their followers. The marking of Tanroa had been gentle, pleasant, but that mark felt like a fresh blister, on the verge of inflammation. She wanted to rub it off. She wanted to remove it immediately. Like an eternal slave, she was chained to the God of Undeath now. It would even show on all her future bodies!

Still, when she concentrated to listen to His explanations, she felt the new strength and flexibility her old body was equipped with now. Although she had forgotten how being a pulser felt, she definitely considered it a change for the better. She felt younger, more agile, like she could do everything humans could. And she would be able to learn forms of combat if she so desired!

A part of her immediately wondered if she had gained an advantage Kahnikivas didn’t have. Was she a step closer to towering over her enemy?

But then, she perceived the core of the transformation. Like a rotten seed, it was planted deep into her undead heart. It seemed to absorb all feelings she had already buried in the neighboring dark chamber. However, it was more and less than the dark chamber of oblivion. It was an abyss radiating an absence of everything positive and light. It wasn’t even darkness itself, but something more immaterial with no metaphor to grasp its full meaning.

Then Uldr named it.

And Malia cringed, fearing the truth in his words and feeling the affirmative response at the same time. The perception was so intense that her hands hugged her body, wandered to her chest and formed claws. They wanted to rip the flesh open like Uldr had done a few moments before, tried to get that strangling feeling of Hate out of her body.

Of course, it was senseless, as the contract couldn’t be nullified, and Malia sank to the ground. When opening her eyes, now marked with a dark red hue, she saw the lyre before her feet. It had slipped from her grip and hit the ground. There was a crack at the side, but it was still functional. Was Malia still the same, even after that horrible change? She didn’t know. She didn’t know. And because she simply didn’t know better, she took the lyre and pressed it against her chest like a little human baby. Then she rose to face Uldr again.

A subconscious smile started to bloom on her features, but like that seed in her core, the smile was a rotten grimace. She said “thank you”, mimicking the God’s politeness, and nearly choked on those two words. Next she demanded: “Now let me go and bring you the followers you need.”

Oh, she did realize that she sounded just like He had described her. Selfishness started to shine through. And since He didn’t care, she could let it out anyway.

[Tarot]

Uldr gave a curt nod and smiled. "Exactly what I wanted to hear, Miss Azola. Though, if I may add, I like your real name better. Just saying." He straightened the sleeves of his small suit and gave a short bow. "I will be awaiting your contributions… eagerly. There is much to gain from our deal, and much to lose as well. You strike me as the type who knows how to make the most of things. I am sure you will not disappoint." He smiled again, though Malia knew there was only hate behind his words. He was unbiased in his hate; he hated everyone without distinction. Why he did, was anyone's guess. Thankfully, he did not leave the place the same way he got there. He just walked away, into the darkness, and Malia could be sure he wouldn't be there anymore once he turned the first corner. The Boss stood upright and looked at the newly Returned curiously. "Your clothes things," he pointed at the floor, kind of amused that she had picked up her lyre first. "Now, I suppose you're in for some shock therapy, hmm? You have probably figured out that the three followers deal is just the beginning. Once that's dealt with there will be another task, then another, and another. You only get out of the Returned when you truly die - and that's assuming Uldr doesn't feel like kidnapping your soul for a century-long round of torture afterwards. It's happened before." He paced across the room slowly, half serious and half entertained by what had just happened. "The bad news is that anyone with more marks than you - such as I - can command you to do whatever they want. Doesn't matter if they are dead or alive… Uldr keeps living servants too. So, if someone with two of his marks orders you to let him drink whisky shots from your cute bellybutton, you will either comply at once or be faced with excruciating pain. I mean it. It's not something you can just 'grind your teeth through'. It feels like being destroyed from the inside. You will be incapacitated, instantly. I won't do it to you because I'm not feeling like hearing your screams, but that's the way it is." He stopped and gave a sinister smile. "The upside, of course, is that once you have two marks, you can similarly control those with a single mark. Uldr probably means to place those three under your command once he is satisfied enough for a second mark. He showed you more favor than he does the average guy. Feel lucky." Perhaps not a very fortunate expression, but this was what Malia had gotten herself into.