In Service of Mara - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Temptation

I emerged from my cramped closet of a room dressed in my winter clothes. The outfit consisted of soft fox furs that clung to my form and kept me comfortably warm. My mistress told me they were a gift, something pretty for me to wear and keep me warm. I didn't believe her, but I appreciated the furs nonetheless. The frigid winter nights frightened off all but the bravest of souls without proper protection. My mind immediately thought of being forced to walk the distance to Ravenloft without the furs; I shivered at the thought, but knew my mistress certainly had the potential for that level of cruelty.

My mistress stood by the door, waiting for me, lead in hand. She wore her snugly fitting black outfit, barely modest in nature and unlikely to provide any protection from the elements. And yet she looked quite ready to go, a mischievous grin tugging at her ruby lips. Her eyes turned to appraise me, and once again I blushed at feeling her stare at me. I hated being looked at that way. As I averted my eyes, turning my head slightly to look away from her I heard her command me yet again. "Look at your mistress, girl," she said, her voice striking fear into my heart.

My eyes snapped to attention as I forced myself to look at her. Some remainder of my independence flashed through my eyes, my expression a seething mask of anger, hatred, and humility. "Kneel before your mistress," I heard her command as she held the lead in her hands, her normally seductive voice now overlapped with an authority that I could not deny.

And yet, I disobeyed, staring at her with hate and anger. "I will not!" I replied to her in a harsh, arrogant tone. My hands balled up into fists as tears welled up in my eyes, the remaining scrap of defiance rallying my emotions to stand up against my mistress.

My mistress' eyes flashed red, the devil in her coming out. "Do you wish to defy me, girl? I fed you, clothed you, took care of you...and this is your repayment for my kindness? Perhaps I should strip you and force you to march to Ravenloft naked, in the cold, through Barovia first." Her grin widened, her tiny fangs peeking out from under her lips.

The little color in my face drained away with her challenge; she didn't need to resort to violence or my soul. My body shook with anger and growing fear, yet I refused to cry, I refused to give her that satisfaction.

"I...I'm sorry mistress...please forgive me..." I said after several agonizing moments, my voice trembling with fear and defeat. "I'll be good..." I fought back my tears as I dropped to my knees in an ungraceful motion, banging them against the wooden floor. My hands relaxed as I forced myself to fold them in my lap to await her next action.

Seemingly satisfied with my apology, she leaned down to click the lead into place upon my collar. Hearing it made my spirit sink even further, I hated feeling this way. "You will no longer go out in public without this, do you understand?" she asked me, tugging on the braided leather lead. I started to protest, but caught myself just as my mouth opened.

"You are my property, girl, and I enjoy people knowing what things I own, including you." The words struck me with intensity far worse than the whip could ever hope to achieve. Her words resonated in my mind, thundering loudly in my head despite her speaking in a low, quiet voice. Her eyes darkened into a crimson shade as she continued, ever staring into my eyes, "and you are a thing until you can prove otherwise to me. Do you think you're still a princess? Not so long as your soul belongs to me. Consider yourself lucky that I allow you to call yourself "I". I could be far worse to you, little girl..." her voice trailed off at the sound of hooves tramping outside, beyond the door. "Mmm, the ride is here," she cooed to me, her demeanor back to normal.

My eyes remained wide with fear and terror, her words replaying in my mind again and again, promises and threats of cruelty coming back louder each time. "What's wrong with you? Time to leave!" she cackled to me with a sudden glee. Her hand yanked at the lead, tugging me to my feet. "Strahd's carriage still works, imagine that..." she led me outside into the bitter cold; I followed behind her, still in a daze from her sudden harshness. Did she mean what she said, or did she mean it as a ploy to disarm me? I couldn't focus on it, despite trying to get the fear out of my head.

I came to my senses once I saw the nightmares waiting outside. Two ebon steeds stood at attention, hooked to a carriage, but to call them mere horses would be completely missing the point. Sixteen hands tall and built for grace, beauty, and speed, the nightmare could strike fear into the heart of any would-be adventurer who crossed its path. Father had told me of the nightmares as a child; his father's immortal steeds, born of infernal magic and hellbent determination, the cross of the diabolic and the best of the old-world Friesian stallions. The little girl in me wished to squeal with delight and glee and run up to wrap my arms around one, but I stared in wonder instead at the beauties before me.

The nightmares wore a wavy, fiery mane that flickered with a fel shimmer which reflected from their sleek ebon coats, along with a long, dimly flickering tail. I could feel the heat radiating from them even from the door, enough to melt the snow around their feet. The nightmares waited patiently for us, stamping a lightly-flickering hoof against the ground. One snorted, a burst of fire rushing out into the air from its nose. Dimly glowing eyes, like hot coals, stared out into the night. My mistress' cruel words faded from my mind as I approached the steed before me, gently placing my hand against the warm ebon coat.

"Puck and Phaedra," my mistress informed me as she tugged on the lead, bringing me back from the fog of thought. "They belong to me now, just as you do." I nodded, listening as she climbed into the carriage, pulling me in with her. The carriage itself remained normal on the inside, large enough for four people to sit comfortably, six if they could squeeze. A gloomy darkness filled the carriage interior; there were no lights inside to illuminate the velvet cushions and walnut finish. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, as they could do now. My mistress stared at me, watching me with her intense eyes.

The carriage shuddered as the steeds broke into a slow trot, quickly getting up to speed. The path that leads through the Svalich woods and into town would take some time to traverse. "Do you wish to return to Saspien?" she asked me quietly, her voice tinged with concern. The question surprised me, as did the sudden kindness inflected. Did she really care about me? I spent several minutes mulling the question over in my head, allowing myself to stare out the window to watch the snow-covered trees whisk by at a surprising speed. The sound of galloping hooves echoed in the night air, a thundering, deep sound. I sighed, and continued staring.

"No," I finally answered, my hands folded in my lap. "I wish to stay in Barovia."

"Why?" she questioned, her expression hidden behind her hands, folded together and fingers criss-crossed. I knew she already knew the answer to that question, but I believed she enjoyed hearing it from my own mouth instead of my writing.

I fidgeted in my seat, growing restless from the question. "Why do you do this to me, mistress? I'm your slave, I don't get a choice anymore...so why do you even bother asking me such a stupid question?" I blurted out to her, shutting my eyes to fight off fresh tears of sadness. "I hate this, I hate this torment! You know why! She hates me, just like you do. I can't face her, not now, not with your collar around my neck like some dog. And yet, you're bringing me to her! For what, so you can show how stupid and foolish I am to her?" The words kept tumbling from my lips, my body trembling as I wept for myself, blood staining my skin. I shouldn't have said anything, I knew I made a mistake, but I couldn't stop myself now. I felt as if my execution drew near like a prisoner going to the gallows. I threw my head into my hands and sobbed, shuddering with fear and anger and despair.

I felt her wrap her arms around me, pulling me into her in a tight embrace. "Shhh, little one. You may weep..." she whispered into my ear. A torrent of emotion burst forth, and I pressed my face into her shoulder and cried loudly, my arms clutching her tightly against me. Her hand stroked my hair, gently, almost lovingly. I wanted to hate her, I wanted to pound my fists against her and kill her. But I could do little more than sob and cry and cling to my mistress as she comforted me. "Shhh..." she whispered into my ear again, her lips kissing my skin. "Pretty little things like you shouldn't get so upset..." she cooed, pulling me even closer to her.

Some time passed. I sat there, feeling numb and disconnected as she wiped the blood from my eyes and cleaned my face. "I am your mistress, Isabella, and I care for you as I care for the other things that I own," she murmured to me, whispering into my ear. "Obey me and do as you are told, and you shall be rewarded with my attention, praise, and love. Disobey, defy, or disrespect me, and I shall punish you harshly, or even worse, ignore you completely and remove you from my grace." I nodded, listening to her as I tried to stop shaking, my face pushed against her shoulder again.

"I own you, mind, body, and soul...your freedom is mine to give...and I will truly give you the freedom to choose to return to Saspien or to remain here with your aunt and myself," she continued, playing with my hair as she whispered softly into my ear, her voice calming and soothing. "You will serve me no matter where you are, your bondage to me knows no bounds. Return to Saspien, and be sent off to the convent like your mother wants. Live with those depressing nuns and try to reconnect with your beloved god, whom you know is no longer listening to you...seeking out a purpose, trying to find yourself in a sea of meaningless existence...or remain here and become my apprentice...revel in your slavery, revel in your twisted sense of pleasure and anguish, serve me proudly and accept your potential as something far more than a mere wizard." Her fingers ran through my hair, straightening my raven locks. My breath quickened at her proposal.

"Become a true witch, something to be feared, respected and envied...a witch of the shadows. To live in darkness and embrace it fully with all of your passion...don't you want to be happy, Isabella? You've found happiness in slavery, serving me. Why not be with someone who truly appreciates the many talents and skills you possess? This will not be an easy task for you, I admit it will be harsh, and perhaps even cruel...but if you survive and endure, you will become far stronger for it. Do you wish to be truly happy, Isabella? Or do you want to be sad?"

I felt her lips press against my ear as she whispered to me, enticing me with her promises of power and affection with a honeyed, seductive voice. To exchange my loyal servitude for a taste of the devil's unholy power...the temptation tugged at my conscience, knowing that I died because of my weaknesses, my lack of strength. I knew she offered this to me freely, the terms quite clear despite her soothing tone. Did I wish to be a mere slave, or did I wish to become her favored toy? Her teeth nibbled my earlobe, playing with the silver ring. My fear and despair washed away, replaced by a far more urgent and pleasurable sensation between my legs. "I'll let you think on it, my lovely little plaything," she moaned into my ear, releasing me.

The nightmares drew the carriage into the quiet streets of Barovia. I saw a few shocked expressions from some of the local drunks, but we galloped through town quickly enough. I can only assume what they discussed at the taverns that night; a small bit of glee tickled my mind at the thought. Within a few minutes we passed beyond the buildings of Barovia and crossed over the Ivlis Bridge. My eyes caught a small, unused campsite stationed by the bridge. Even in the darkness, Castle Ravenloft loomed overhead menacingly. My grandfather, Count Strahd, once resided and ruled from Ravenloft. I had never met him; he died two years ago when a group of adventurers destroyed him for his tyranny.

---

The coach wound up through the twisting roads, racing ever closer to the castle, the wheels edging uncomfortably close to the cliffside. Aside from the thundering hooves and rattling wheels, the carriage remained silent. My mistress' words played in my mind as I concentrated on discerning my true desires, my eyes trained on the passing scenery. Closer and closer to my fate we rode. Temptation sat before me, staring into my soul, and the devil and angel on my shoulders bickered and fought with each other. I couldn't help but squirm.

With a great neighing halt we arrived at the front doors of Ravenloft. Even as the carriage shuddered and shook from the stop, my mistress practically leapt from the carriage, the door pushed open by her gloved hand. My eyes widened in surprise and I scrambled to catch up to her before the lead drew tight, mouthing a protest. I looked up to her, scowling with disapproval at her treatment of me. My mistress grinned widely as she marched me up to the door, taking exaggerated steps and holding my lead high, forcing me to trot behind her.

The doors flew open with a kick of her boot, sending flurry of snow and dust flying from the force. "Angelique!" she announced as she crossed into the threshold of Castle Ravenloft, "I've brought your little niece back, and she's in one piece!" she hollered loudly. "Come get the brat before I throw her from the top spire!" My eyes turned to her, a puzzled expression on my face.

"Do you really mean to do that, mistress?" I blurted out without thinking, sounding concerned. My eyes shifted between her, the rooftop, and the castle foyer.

She looked down at me with that strange grin of hers and patted me on the head with her hand. "Of course not, I just enjoy riling her up. Do you think I enjoy destroying my things?" The grin widened ever so slightly, her small fangs peeking out from under her lips.

"That isn't reassuring, mistress..." I replied, biting my lip with worry. She threw her head back in a loud cackle, and disconnected the lead from my collar, then slipped the braided length into her pocket. She took a moment to inspect me, grasping my shoulders and turning me this way and that way, her blonde curls bouncing from the effort. I caught the outline of my aunt Angelique storming towards the entryway, and my mistress caught on by my expression.

"Be a good girl and put on a show for your mistress," she cooed to me in a whisper. "I'll be grading your performance." She leaned in to plant her lips on my cheek, her kind expression quickly changing into a seething mask of hatred and fury that instilled fear into my heart. She slipped around me, and planted her foot on my backside. She grunted and shoved me forward with a great effort, sending me stumbling toward my aunt Angelique. "Take your bitch niece before I charge you for wasting my time!" she shouted with anger. "Useless girl couldn't even mop the damn floors right."

My aunt caught me as I fell into her arms, clutching me close against her. "Begone before I summon the gargoyles and the Brides to smite you, devil witch!" she shouted back in an authoritative command. "You hold no power here!" She looked down at me, concern upon her face. "Are you alright my sweet Isabella? What did she do to your face?" she asked, staring in horror at the silver piercings adorned on my skin. My eyes caught the lute strung across her back, and evidently, so did my mistress.

"It's nothing, aunt," I replied, straightening myself up, still embracing her tightly. I did not know what act my mistress referred to, and so I tried to keep as quiet as possible. "She frightened me..."

"Yeah, yeah...you say you're this powerful dhamphir bitch, but guess who was begging for her life, huh? You!" Mara retorted back to my aunt, though her eyes did wander up to the multitudes of stone gargoyles perched along the ramparts. Some were actually alive. "I've got stuff to do today, so I'm done here with the brat. Say hi to Queeny for me!" she shouted back, breaking into a raucous laughter that echoed throughout the entryway. I'd forgotten how casual and rude she could be, especially around my aunt. I admit, seeing her put on a show like that confused and puzzled me, why did she feel the need to hide her actions? The silver attached to my skin provided plenty of evidence to my treatment, so why the ruse?

As I watched Angelique draw out her lute, my mistress backed up into the carriage. "Puck, Phaedra, home," she growled. Angelique held the lute as if it were a holy symbol of Kalinda, and plucked the first note of a song in warning. My mistress' eyes narrowed as she mouthed some threat, or perhaps a dare; I couldn't make out the words. She slammed the carriage door shut and the nightmare steeds rushed forth, drawing the carriage and its devil passenger back through the gates, back to the woods.

Angelique drew me up and studied me, although the fox furs covered my skin. She reached out and touched the collar placed around my neck, red tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm so sorry my niece...oh gods, I'm so sorry..."

"It...it's ok, aunt," I replied, wiping her tears away with my hand. "It wasn't that bad," I lied to her, though in truth it could have been far worse. "She had me clean her shack all week; it's much bigger on the inside than on the outside. I...I don't really want to talk about it, though," I said, anxiety overruling my desire to give her the full account. Some things were better left unsaid, at least for now. "Where's Diana?"

I didn't think she believed me, but she must have decided to not express her doubt. Instead, she merely smiled at me sadly, and placed her hand on my cheek, stroking my skin with her fingers. "I wish you never had to endure that devil, Isabella...I was so worried when she took you after the ritual, I thought I'd never see you again. Why did she bring you back? Did she set you free?" Her eyes looked back down to the collar, then to my eyes. "Diana is sleeping, still. The girl sleeps more than a cat...she'll be relieved to see you alive and safe."

"I don't know why she brought me back; presumably, because mother is arriving today to bring me back to Saspien." I still hadn't made up my mind yet about what to do, but the choice quickly swayed in one particular direction. "She's still angry with me over what happened...but no, my mistress did not set me free..." I could see her spirit sink at my acknowledgement of servitude to the devil. "But she has given me some freedom...I assume she can summon me wherever I am," I sighed. "To be honest...I don't know if I really want to go home. Mother will ask too many questions, and quite frankly she's pretty disappointed in me. Can I stay here with you and Diana? At least for the summer...err; winter...or whatever season it is here. I'll be good, I promise." I looked up to her with pleading eyes. My words contained truth, mostly, but other reasons existed in my mind that I couldn't bear to speak of, not yet at least.

That sad expression crossed my aunt's face once again at the implication of what I had said. "She'll be cross with both of us, child," she warned me in a quiet tone. "Are you sure you want to defy her?" Her eyes locked on mine, my aunt's expression showing concern for the both of us.

"I'll deal with her, she is my mother after all," I reasoned, brushing the hair from my eyes and tucking it under my hat. "I'm used to her disapproval and anger...besides; I don't want to get sent off to a stuffy convent in the mountains with a bunch of depressing sisters. I am a girl, after all." Never mind the fact that living with Diana would be a much better alternative, though I do think I'd look quite stunning in a habit.

"...Right." Angelique nodded, contemplating what I had said, but more importantly, what I had not said. She brought me in close for another tight embrace, and draped an arm over my shoulders, ushering me into the foyer. "Let's get inside before we get chilly, child." I followed, walking with her towards the throne room, as it used to be known as. Now, it served as her audience chamber, though she had redecorated after my grandfather died. Despite her attempts at restoring some sense of style and life into the castle, it remained dark and gloomy. Fortunately I could see quite well, but others were not so fortunate, some aspect of the castle dimmed whatever light entered the walls. I'm sure it suited grandfather just fine.

I had a moment to remove the layered fox fur garments that my mistress purchased for me, and set them side for the time being. Angelique watched, fretting over me until I reduced my clothing down to my violet dress. "What did she do to you, Isabella?" she asked me, trying not to stare too blatantly at me. An odd feeling washed over me of discomfort, I moved to cover myself without realizing my own actions.

"It's nothing," I assured her. "Just some silver piercings. They don't hurt anymore, just...tingle, slightly. They won't come out." My voice wavered slightly, but I couldn't tell her what else she had done to me. "Oh, sod it all...mother's going to be furious..." Mother knew about the ritual to bring me back; her disapproval over it became well-known when she arrived the first time. "She'll be here in a few hours, damn it all..."

Angelique's eyes narrowed in thought as she continued watching me as I paced back and forth. "Normally I would insist you live up to your responsibilities, but she will suspect something if she sees you with that devil's mark on your face and your neck. Remember the blood oath, Isabella. We cannot tell a soul about what happened that night." She sighed, and held her lute close to her, her fingers idly testing the strings. A note resounded through the audience hall. "I have an idea," Angelique announced in a moment of clarity.

I stopped pacing, and turned to look at her, gesturing with my hand to coax more information from her. "And?" I asked, "What is it? Stay in bed and pretend I have a cold?" I admit I sounded more snobbish than I should have. However, she did have my full attention; as I knew my mother would be arriving soon.

"I am a weaver of lies and deceit, child," she said to me with a warm smile. "Your mother is sharper than a diamond, but even she has been fooled by my illusions." She stepped closer to me, her fingers expertly plucking out the first few notes of a song. "This will only take a moment, child..." I stood still, looking up to her in surprise and wonder as she nearly danced around my figure, fingers gliding up and down the neck of the lute to weave her spell on me. After a few long moments, she stopped abruptly, ending her song.

"I don't feel any different," I sighed to her. In truth, I didn't. My hands crept up to my face, touching the silver chain that ran from my ear across to my nose. "Are you sure you know what you're doing, aunt?"

"Hush! Of course I know what I'm doing. I always know what I'm doing, child," she chided me. Angelique led me toward the desk by the window, and produced a small mirror from the drawer. "Here, take a look and see for yourself," she said with a smirk.

"If this is some trick, I'm going to be upset..." I whined to her as I snatched the mirror from her hand. I held it to my face and nearly dropped the damned thing. The piercings vanished! I tilted the mirror down to inspect the collar secured around my neck. The collar had been masked, hidden from view, now just pale, milky skin visible to the naked eye. "It's just an illusion, though..." I sighed, feeling the soft leather band with my free hand. "But if it will fool mother..."

"If it fools Victoria then we're both safe. But, child..." she trailed off, leaving her question, or concern, unspoken. "If this is your choice then, the illusion will last for several hours." She reached out to me and pulled me into an embrace once again, stroking my hair with her hand softly. "I am so sorry this happened to you," I heard her murmur into my ear. "Please forgive me."

My arms wrapped around Angelique, clutching her tightly against me. I felt a sharp pang of sadness and regret in my heart. If only she did not have to be involved, perhaps it would have played out differently. "You didn't do anything wrong," I whispered back to her. "It's my entire fault. You did your best to look out for me, aunt...and now it's time for me to take responsibility for my foolish actions." I drew in a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled, calming myself. "I'll be back down in a few hours, I need to prepare myself," I told her as we released each other. She nodded silently and went back to her business.

---

The hours passed uneventfully. Diana remained upstairs in her new room, sleeping with her faerie dragon and her fat cat resting on her. I stopped by her room to check on her, but decided not to wake the older girl. I believed it'd be better if she didn't witness the tempest known as my mother. Angelique remained in the audience chamber, casually strumming her lute to pass the time, listening for any tell-tale signs of the portal activating from the catacombs.

I busied myself with the mental task of preparing to face my mother. A certain fear crept through my body at the mere thought of challenging my mother, causing me to shiver uncontrollably for several minutes at a time. Mother's disappointment in me took on several forms, depending on her mood and the severity of the failed task. The worst of which consisted of her locking me into a stuffy old coffin for up to a day; I hated being forced into the coffin, but after a time I simply got used to it. As a result, I am not claustrophobic. Oddly enough, the fact that the coffin previously contained a dead body did not worry me in the slightest; I am actually quite content among the dead. No, I hated being stuffed in there because I had nothing to occupy myself with; while I am slender, I found it impossible to move little more than my hands and perhaps wiggle my toes. If I had someone to at least talk to, then that would have been bearable. So, I slept. I think that made her even more upset.

I spent my time at home in Saspien exploring the castle, sneaking around with Diana, and studying. Now and then I snuck out of the castle to see a boy or two, but fortunately for me I could get back to my room before mother realized I had been gone. I love my mother, but sometimes I wish I knew that she loved me as well. Perhaps, I thought, the time had come for me to leave the nest. How ironic that I would choose to run into the arms of my devil mistress instead. My mind wandered to the week I spent with my mistress; it seemed far longer than that. Did I change that much in a handful of days? When she brought me to her shack, I hated her, she frightened me and broke my spirit...and perhaps that is why I wish to be with her instead. Did she truly force me into this, or did I choose to submit and give in to her? My head spun at the implications, the constant back and forth from my conscience bringing about a dizzy spell.

I fell back on the soft bed in my room, and stared up at the ceiling to wait for my turbulent mind to finally settle down. Doubt filled my heart, but of what I could not be certain of. Surely if I returned to Saspien with mother, she would soon find out the truth, and send me off. I closed my eyes and silently prayed to Gabriel in the Underworld for guidance. Once again, I heard nothing in return, a mere astral static that buzzed between my ears. My fears rose up again, this time a faster cascade of emotions that rushed forth like water from a broken dam. He couldn't hear me. Gabriel couldn't hear my prayers. My god could not hear my pleas. The revelation came to me as I sprawled out on the bed, my eyes now wide open and staring at the canopy above. Forsaken. Forgotten. Cast away. Unbalanced in all things, the scales tipped toward one side. I cheated death by being resurrected by my grandfather's black magic. I sold my soul to a devil, and became her slave, her pretty little toy. I gave myself to a devil. Corruption. Temptation. Selfishness. The thoughts swirled in my head, circling faster and faster in a whirling storm of fear and doubt. The tenets of my religion wilfully shattered and cast aside on impulse.

I knew then the path to take. I heard the door knock just then, but how long did I spend sprawled out on the bed? "Your mother will be here in a few minutes, Isabella," I heard Angelique's voice call out from the other side of the door. I leapt from the bed and rushed to the mirror, leaning over the drawer top to peer at my face. The illusion remained intact, my markings and collar still disguised by Angelique's spell. I rushed to the door to open it, my feet barely touching the floor, hands straightening my hair. Angelique stood just outside, looking surprised at my sudden arrival. Quickly composing herself, she studied my face for a few moments, and nodded in approval. "Let's go to the portal chamber, your mother despises it when we are late." I nodded breathlessly, and raced down the stairs towards the spiral staircase that led into the dungeon and catacombs. It's a wonder I didn't trip over myself.

Castle Ravenloft contained a labyrinthine complex of catacombs and interconnected dungeons that had been constructed hundreds of years ago. At one point the dungeons contained prisoners of the natural and unnatural world, but they had long since been emptied, save a precious few still locked in sealed crypts. In the upper dungeon resided a former employee of my grandfather, the necromancer known as Aranax. After my grandfather's defeat, Angelique took over as ruler of the castle and most of the original staff either died or fled. Surprisingly enough, Aranax offered her services readily to my aunt, in exchange for her continued residence and laboratory within the castle. I knew of the woman, and had met her several times during my visits over the past two years. Aranax's quiet, serious demeanor offered little chance for in-depth conversation, but I liked her just the same.

Aranax currently busied herself with operating the portal in the catacombs. The portal chamber comprised of a large stone room, with several glowing circles drawn out, spaced away from each other. Arcane labels were drawn by each circle, designating the origin point. My eyes immediately wandered to the one labeled "Saspien", or as it had been crudely scrawled in nearly indiscernible chalk, "Insane Asylum". I chuckled at the graffiti, likely placed there by my aunt, and shifted my gaze to the portal itself; a gigantic stone ring with arcane sigils and runes etched into the stone blocks. I heard that an erinyes once lived in this chamber, but I've been unable to confirm that particular rumor.

I stood by and watched, waiting for the telltale signs of teleportation magic. Within a few minutes' time, the circle designated "Saspien" glowed brightly with a cobalt blue light. My vision distorted as I focused on the circle, space itself bending and warping at that very point. I honestly thought I would be sucked into the vortex that appeared. I caught a shimmer in my vision, and heard a strange sound not entirely different from dozens of chimes, and then it stopped as quickly as it started. My vision cleared, and I saw my mother standing before me.

My mother, the Queen of the Vampires stood a few inches taller than myself, though we looked remarkably similar. Mother's beauty had a certain mystique to it, no doubt enhanced by her own deals with the Fey of Saspien; she had a commanding aura to her, and it sent a fear running through my heart by her very presence. "Mother," I said to her, bowing my head. "I'm glad to see you arrived safely. How is father?" I asked, attempting to discern her mood for the day.

"Busy as always, keeping the city from turning in on itself," she responded back to me, a hint of arrogance in her voice. "Not that you'd know anything about such matters." Her eyes turned to Angelique, then Aranax, her scowl deepening. "Angelique. Necromancer Aranax. Come, Isabella, we're leaving. We have matters to discuss. In private," she said, not looking directly at me. Her tone said it all; disappointment, disapproval, and impatience. What an unpleasant woman, I thought. I certainly didn't want to turn out like her when I reached my late thirties.

"Well, mother..." I started to say, quickly thinking of how to phrase it. "I'd like to stay here with Aunt Angelique for a while...you know, get out of the castle for a while, take a holiday." Not quite what I had in mind, but I didn't think of anything else I could say.

"A holiday?" she asked me with an incredulous look, curiosity in her voice. "You already had a holiday; you have been gone for months." She crossed her arms over her chest, staring down at me with her piercing eyes. I swore she could see through the illusion, and I nearly panicked.

"I hardly think being kidnapped and dead for four months counts, mother," I quickly replied back. "Besides, you said you wanted me to learn some more spells, and Aranax said she can teach me a few things." Aranax shot me a look that quite plainly said, "Don't you dare get me involved, kid". I continued with, "And Diana's living here too, she'll keep me company and out of trouble! Besides, that way you and father can attend to important political stuff, you know how that goes right over my head." I passed my hand over my head to demonstrate with a whooshing sound.

Mother quirked an eyebrow in an expert fashion, staring at me. "You know I do not approve of this," she sighed, sounding exasperated, "but, I suppose it is time for you to make your own decisions. Very well, then; I'll send your things over." She leaned down and kissed me gently on the forehead, then placed her hand on my shoulder. Our eyes met, and my mother stared into my soul; but what she could or couldn't see, I did not know. "I'm glad to see you are finally taking responsibility, my daughter. Please, keep in touch." She kissed me once again, and I had to throw my full concentration into not crying. Instead, I threw my arms around her and embraced her tightly; to my surprise she placed her arms around me in return.

"I love you, mother," I murmured to her during the embrace, another pang of sadness and regret welling up in my heart and threatening to spill over.

"I...love you too, Isabella," she replied to me in a soft voice. The admission nearly sent me into tears, and yet I controlled myself, at least for the next few minutes. She looked down at me, her expression sad and remorseful. "Be well, daughter," she said finally with a last kiss to my forehead, releasing me from our embrace. Without another word, my mother, the Queen of Saspien, walked through the portal back home.

I collapsed onto the floor, throwing my head into my hands as I broke down in tears of remorse, sadness, and regret. Angelique knelt down by my side to comfort me as I wept and sobbed, my tears staining the floor red. She held me against her, rocking me back and forth as I continued weeping; Aranax made a hasty exit to leave us be. I remained on the floor of the catacombs until my eyes ran dry, only a handful of yards away from where I sold my soul to my mistress. I must have fallen unconscious during that time, as I awoke in my bed, cleaned and in my nightgown.

After I returned to a form of semi-consciousness, I curled up in the bed, tucking one of the many pillows against me, nesting in the blankets and sheets. No more tears would flow that night, my body drained and exhausted despite my persistent sadness. I made my choice, and now, I must live with it.

The End

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