Chapter Three

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The Arwain Chronicles: The List.....

The figure moved with deathly silence through the total darkness. The darkness hampered neither his speed nor his awareness of his surroundings. He understood the darkness, it was his home, his friend.
He was close, he could feel the dark aura that clouded any place his master dwelt in. The castle came into view. The magnificence of it and the absolute aura of power and dominance it gave off still, after two hundred years of service to his master, managed to take his breath away. He watched as a human walked past the front of it without sparing it a second glance. Even with the knowledge that the castle was magically cloaked from the sight of normal humans, he had to fight back down the spike of rage that suddenly welled up within him. How could the insignificant worm, walk by in total disregard of the absolute superiority that was before him.
The thought of torturing and bringing him to a slow painful end fleeted through his mind. His jaws clenched as he forced himself to remain focused on the task at hand. There would be time to spill blood soon, very soon. With eyes filled with total and absolute hatred, he watched the human walk away till he was out of sight. The original and rightful order of things would soon be back in place, a malicious smile crept across his face at the thought.
Despite the fact that he was loath to it, he stepped into the light at the entrance of the castle. Unlike him, his master and others in his following neither understood nor appreciated the darkness like he did. He felt the spell take hold of him and in so doing totally immobilize him.
Even after two hundred years, the spell that guarded the entrance to his master's lair still made his stomach turn; something about the magic that had made this spell just didn't sit well with him. In spite of being unable to move a single muscle however, he was calm. The spell wouldn't harm him, he was after all, his master's loyal servant.
And surely enough the spell let go of him after a while, pushing them open, he moved through the doors into the castle. The two faceless creatures stood silently guarding the doors just in case anyone got past the spell at the door. Despite the fact that they had no eyes, nose or ears to speak of, he knew that they were as much aware of his presence as he was of theirs.
They never slept. Day and night for the last two hundred years, they had stood at the door ever guarding it against any fool that would dare try and force his way into the castle. None except for his master knew what sustained them. From reputation, he knew that to defeat one of them would require one who was both exceedingly powerful and skilled in magic. To defeat two of them however, would require nothing short of a miracle! How his master had gotten the two of them into his servitude was a mystery all in his following would never solve.
His master would, at this time, be in his private office at the very top of the tallest tower in the castle. He moved deftly through the hallways of the castle towards him. His master was extremely cautious of outside attack to the point of paranoia. But given the kind of world they existed in however, it was a most wise level of caution.

The whole of the castle was full of magical traps of all kind in each and every last hallway. Each of which was excruciatingly painful to any of his master's followers if they fell into one. To them that didn't belong to his master's following, it meant death. To those that lived in the castle, it had become second to nature moving without falling into one of them. It was only when his master added a new one that any of them got caught by them. He however had a sixth sense for them, being able to move though total darkness made this, a walk in the park. Not that he ever did.

His excitement was rising as he got closer and closer to his master.

"Back from the dead?"

He stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of the voice. He had to summon all his will power to school his features and keep the absolute loathing he felt for its owner, from showing on his face.

"Viera," he spat venomously. He could keep his face from revealing any emotion, but keeping the pure hate he felt for her from his voice was a feat he was yet to achieve.

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