aibhinn_fics

Title: Heal The Pain
Epilogue
Rating: Teens
Words: 566

A bonfire nearly four feet high popped and rumbled in a clearing in the north of England. Beside it stood a short man, flanked by two other figures. Two more knelt before them, and more than three dozen stood in a semicircle three ranks deep, watching.

All of them wore shapeless black robes that concealed all distinguishing features, including gender; all of them had cowls pulled far forward to hide their faces. All of them, that was, except the short man, whose hood was down over his shoulders. His pasty, rodent-like face was clearly visible to everyone there. He held a knife in his hand, and the group watched with an odd mixture of fascination, revulsion, and submission as he pricked the wrists of the two who knelt with its tip. Deftly, he caught a drop of each supplicant's blood in a small gold casket full of earth. One of his advisors--a woman, judging by her delicate hands and the intricate rings that decorated them--touched each of their wounds with the tip of her wand, and they healed, leaving only a dark-brown scar about a quarter inch long on the insides of their wrists.

"Now you are mine," the short man--the Dark Lord--said, attempting to make his rather squeaky voice sound deeper, more sonorous. "Your blood is in my possession, mixed with my own and with the soil of this land I mean to conquer. Treachery shall meet only torture and death, while loyal service shall be rewarded beyond your dreams. When I have achieved my rightful place as the ruler of this country, those who have been true shall have all that they could wish."

"Yes, my Lord," the two who knelt said humbly. Each of them extended their hands, palm-upward so the scars were visible. The Dark Lord handed his knife to the advisor who had done the healing, and placed one of his hands in each of theirs. The one who took his right hand flinched very slightly, but he and his comrade spoke again in perfect unison: "We pledge to you our loyalty, our magic, and our lives. All that we have is yours. All that we are is yours. We shall not falter. This we swear."

There was a flash that caused nearly everyone to startle. It was not light, for it did not blind the eyes, and yet somehow, everyone had seen it. There was an uncomfortable rustling amongst those who watched, as though this pledging reminded them of something they wished to forget.

"Rise and greet your comrades," the Dark Lord said firmly. "They shall stand with you when at last this island is ours!"

The two rose and turned to face the sea of cowls. The Dark Lord gestured with his right hand, which flashed silver in the scant light from moon and fire. "Identify yourselves," he said. His face was as cold as the faint starlight.

The one on the left lowered his cowl, exposing his short, dark hair. "I'm Blade," he said shortly.

The one on the right also lowered his hood. His hair was equally short, but bright blonde. A small, sardonic smile twisted his lips, but his voice was smooth. "Call me Cipher," he said.

A/N: Yes, I'm evil! Evil, evil, EVIL, I tell you!