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Elinor breathed a sigh of relief inside her void-like sanctuary.  That was a lot scarier than I thought it would be.  Mom and dad aren’t completely gone; they’re not the same, but just hearing them bicker like that brings back memories.  I used to hate it when mom would tease dad, but it always brought out a different side of him … I kind of see that now.  She coaxed him out of his hard shell.

Her attention moved back to her minions as she felt Quin’s excitement.  He was moving at a rapid pace back to them; he’d scaled the cliff to get some kind of creature above them and was coming back down.

What if I use Lesser Possession?  It doesn’t work on intelligent Undead, so it wouldn’t work if he’s growing.

She tried to activate the skill, but it didn’t work.  A little curious about her growing bond with Quin, she asked, Tiffany.

“Yes?”

Will Quin be more vocal in the future, like Edmon and you?

“Hmm, as I understand it, the higher rank a minion reaches, the more of their past returns to them.  There’s a reason why we are so vocal; when creating us, you advanced us to the third-rank, although, that was a product of our Grade.”  She mused.

“Anyways, I suppose you could say that their personality will grow as they rank up, until the third rank where they’ve reached a sort of undead maturity.”

Interesting, undead maturity.  Ranking up … I have skill levels, too; it almost seems like a game.

Edmon’s businesslike tone responded.  “You could see it like that phone game I recall; it is a good comparison.  Although, the way your abilities function is far more intricate.  We Undead have multiple branches we can specialize in to support you in whatever means is necessary.”

So, if it’s like that phone game, does that mean there are different rarities in Undead?  Not just ranks and levels of skills?

Tiffany answered her question.  “We were given the appropriate information to help advise you, which includes how your abilities function.  Are you unaware of your abilities or how they work?”

No, not at all; I’ve been randomly trying things and hoping they’ll work.

“Before that, Elinor,” Edmon cleared his throat.  “I’d feel much more at ease if we could assure your safety.  Could I ask you to inform us on that dark energy-like being?”

Of course, Elinor sighed.  Don’t feel like you need to get my permission to ask me questions.  I rely on your judgment … I’m just a sixteen-year-old Undead girl.  I may have changed a bit by becoming a Lich Empress, but I’m still pretty inexperienced and not that knowledgeable.

Edmon’s tone seemed to brighten.  “It is our pleasure to be of service.  Did it communicate with you or threaten you in any way?”

Yes, it did talk to me, and I suppose you could say it was threatening … it was trying to either steal my power or possess me.

“It will pay for such insolence.”  He growled.

“I agree, Edmon,” Tiffany paused.  “However, it is not an enemy we can fight … at least at this point.”

“I understand, but it has shown itself as our enemy.  I will not stand for anything turning its fangs on Elinor.”

She was beginning to feel a little choked up by his fervent desire to keep her safe.  Thank you, Edmon, but I’m with Tiffany; I felt his power when he first attached to my spirit and invaded my phylactery … Quin’s returned.

“Yes, he’s such a cute boy; I like his enthusiasm,” Tiffany cooed.  “He’s presenting a creature for you to gather energy from.  Would you like me to put your phylactery close to it?”

Butterflies fluttered in Elinor’s imaginary stomach.  Give me a moment.  She cut their communication to sort out her feelings.

This is the first time I’ll be taking something’s life … well, there was Creeper, but that was more self-defense, and I didn’t kill him.  I suppose I did kill a bunch of toads by proxy.  Wow … I’d be like a mass murderer on Earth; no, no, no, that’s just self-defense.  They attacked us; it was like war … this is war.

Still … an innocent creature that I just snatched out of the jungle.  That’s like what the toads did to me.  Is that why I’m a little hesitant?  But still … I know I could do it.  This must be my remaining human gut telling me this isn’t right.  A gut?  I don’t even have one right now!  What should I do?

Well, thinking about it … back on Earth … how many hamburgers did I eat?  A whole lot in my life.  I mean, that’s the law of the jungle.  Other animals eat other animals … that’s the circle of life … Lion King.

Amusement replaced her hesitation.  I guess those stories I used to read about goddesses of the sea protecting the fish against humans seem kind of silly.  Do they protect fish against sharks or whales?  Why single out humanity?  Humans need food, and so do Liches.  The law of the jungle … I’m in a new world, and it is hostile.  This is a jungle.

Analyzing her actions over the past few hours, she mapped out her emotions.  I’ve been getting colder and colder; Demon did say he’d accelerated my change, and that even shocked him.  It’s a little concerning, but what can I do about it?  Perhaps I’m not the same Elinor I remember … I died in that basement, and this is what lingered.  I’m a Lich now; I’m not a human any longer, and neither is what’s left of my parents.

Communicating with Edmon and Tiffany, she said, Okay, I’m ready.

Her spirit quaked; it was like she was salivating in front of a big steaming steak dinner as Life Force appeared around her.  Activating Life Tap, she sucked out every drop and reconstructed her artificial body.  She opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was her mother’s smiling face; she was holding up her undergarments and Punk Rave long-sleeve black Renaissance-style dress.

“Welcome back, Elinor!  While we waited for Quin, I cleaned your clothes with my Witch Fire.”

Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her naked body with a rueful grin, noticing her socks and boots placed neatly beside her.  “Convenient.  Thanks, Tiffany.”

She brushed her middle and index finger across the tattoo on her collarbone, unable to see it without a mirror, but knowing it was there.  “A body that I desire…”  She mused before smiling at the woman in front of her.  “I suppose an Empress shouldn’t be so exposed.”

Taking her black bra and panties from Tiffany, she put them on while glancing around the cave, and that was when she noticed Dalria and the surviving woman her mother had saved.  Throwing her hair back, Elinor smiled at the woman.  “It seems my mother’s efforts weren’t in vain.”

The woman bit her lip, red hair obscuring her face as she bowed.  “Thank you, Empress Elinor.”

“Elinor’s fine.  What’s your name?”

“Gwen.”  She pulled back her hair while looking up at Tiffany.  “Umm … is it okay for me to call her … the Empress, Elinor?”

“Whatever Elinor says is law,” Tiffany stated with a bright smile.

“What’s the situation with Dalria?”  Elinor asked, fire burning in her eyes as her vision shifted to the toad woman.

“Bound as a slave to our dear Gwen; I have further plans to tighten the noose once I get the time,” Tiffany replied while helping her slip the dress on; it was a snug fit, but had a slight stretch to the comfy fabric.  Is this new body a slightly different size than my original?

“Good work,” Elinor whispered, noticing Edmon standing guard beside their prisoner.  Flipping her long grayish-white hair back, Tiffany helped her straighten it before she donned her socks and boots.  “I suppose we have a lot to talk about.  How safe are we?”

“I’m not sure how many soldiers they have,” Edmon promptly responded.  “If they have many near Dalria’s strength, then it could be troublesome.”

“I don’t think we have to worry much about that.”  Elinor’s smile lifted as she leered at Dalria; the toad grunted a few times, avoiding eye contact.

Gwen stiffened, eyeing her uncertainly, but Elinor ignored her.  “There are three noteworthy toads that I’ve seen, and several dozen other random thugs, but they’re nowhere near Dalria.  She was the ace in their sleeve.”

“Then we are safe for the moment,” Edmon stated, breathing a sigh of relief.  “I was concerned they might have an army pursuing us.”

“Do you not have any memories of being captured?”

Tiffany shook her head.  “Regrettably not; the last few days are a blank, and much of your mother’s life is fragmented in my mind.”

“It’s the same for me,” Edmon confirmed.

Elinor plucked at her sleeves to straighten them.  “That’s—unfortunate.”

Noticing Quin’s stationary form to her right in a larger section of the cave, she smiled.  He was standing over one of the alligator-like creatures the toads had used as pets; this one was half their size, and its eyes were lifeless.   Not a mark on him.

Walking over to him, she stroked his large shin bone.  “You did wonderful, Quin.”  Her black crown appeared as she activated Monarch of Death, and the ghostly veil cascaded down her hair.

Her cold green eyes moved to Dalria as she huffed.  “There’s that head-thing again, trying to imitate the Calth’ra leaders?”

“Calth’ra leaders?  I assume that’s one of the eight races you allied yourselves with to dismantle the Burning Shadow.”

Dalria’s jaw locked, eyes widening.

“Oh?  You know something about this land, Elinor?”  Tiffany asked with interest.

“Demon gave me a rundown of a few events.”

Edmon folded his armored arms.  “Demon … was that what you called that dark energy being?”

Dalria cleared her throat.  “I can—understand them…”

“Shut your filthy mouth; you pollute the room with your filthy tongue,” Edmon growled.

Elinor smirked.  “It’s alright, Edmon.  She’s a sinner, and we’re the devil; we own her.”

The toad-woman shifted her jaw around with disgust in her purple eyes.  “What did you do to me, and who is this Demon that gave you information about the Burning Shadow?”

“You’re in no position to be asking questions,” Tiffany said with a bright smile.  “Your only job right now is to answer when asked.  Understand?”

Dalria stiffened, a few tears dripping down her cheeks as she began panting; after a few seconds, she stiffly nodded.  “Y-yes,” she mumbled, clearly in intense pain but trying to hide it.

“Let’s move to those rocks in the corner.”  Elinor pointed at the spot while moving to a large stone to sit.

The others followed her; Dalria’s body jerked a few times as she complied.  A few more tears dropped to the dusty floor, but before she was able to sit, Elinor shook her head, causing her to stiffen.  “No, you sit on the floor.”  Expecting the order to be followed, she turned to Edmon.  “Could you set some of these stones in a circle so we can talk?”

“Of course,” Edmon bowed, effortlessly rolling the larger stones into a partial circle; once finished, he asked, “May I stand?”

“Do what you please,” Elinor responded affectionately as she sat.  “I’m guessing you’re getting a bit itchy to find out what Demon did.”

Both Tiffany and Edmon nodded.  Gwen waited for Tiffany and her to sit before taking a stone to Elinor’s right.  She raised her left hand a little as if waiting for a teacher’s permission to speak.

“Go ahead, Gwen, and it’ll get a bit exhausting if I have to permit you to do everything.  Please, speak your mind.”

“Politely, of course,” Tiffany added.

“Of course,” Gwen swallowed before taking a deep breath.  She rubbed her chest for a moment, keeping her hazel irises locked on the floor.  “I’m a little lost, and to be honest … I’m scared.  Everything’s … it’s like I’m stuck in a nightmare.”

Elinor’s lips fell with her gaze.  “I can relate.”

“I mean … I remember you and your parents on the bus.  I remember you being angry with your parents the most.”  She whispered.

“It all seems pretty pathetic now,” Elinor chuckled softly.  “I was like a completely different person … I suppose I am.”

Gwen sucked on her lower lip for a moment.  “Did it—was it those cracks in the sky?  It seems like that changed everything.”

“The cracks,” Elinor hummed.  “Edmon, Tiffany, do you know anything about the sky cracking and showing a lot of colors?”

They both shook their heads.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any knowledge about such a thing,” Tiffany said, releasing a soft sigh.

“Me neither,” Edmon said, arms folded again.

“I suspect Demon knows something about it,” she frowned as her frosty gaze shifted to Dalria.  “What do you know about an energy creature that lives in the ground?”

“I haven’t—haven’t heard any stories about such a thing,” Dalria mumbled, wiping away a new set of tears.

“Do you know anyone that might?”

“I—damn your Mysticism,” she cried.  She struggled for several seconds before mumbling, “Valdar … would know; any of the—the P-Plant Callers would.”

“She’s quite persistent through the pain; perhaps I’ll need to move to the next stage sooner than later.”  She hummed.  “Plant Callers, huh.  What are they?”  Tiffany shifted topics with fascination.

Dalria’s cheeks were glistening at this point as she hiccuped.  “One of the types of…”  She dropped to her side, curling into a ball as she quaked; it lasted for a minute before she began stammering.  “Th-The … one o-of the branches of … M-Mysticism in our tribes.”  

“What’s happening to her?”  Elinor asked.

“She’s strong-willed,” Tiffany responded with a humorous chuckle.  “Basically, every time she refuses a command, she experiences severe mental pain.  It’s similar to experiencing your blood boiling and every nerve being flayed.  This continues until she’s willing to respond truthfully or does what is asked of her.”

“She’s bound to Gwen, though, right?”

“Yes, and I had Gwen order her to follow our commands.  I also plan on Gwen joining the Empire by oath.”

“Oath?”  Gwen and Elinor asked as Dalria softly cried between them, continuing to lock up as she tried to resist.

Tiffany didn’t seem bothered by the cracking toad between them.  “I believe it is natural to take an oath to serve an Empress or Empire.  It is by Elinor’s grace that Gwen has been able to survive in this hostile world, and if she wishes to continue with us, then she will need to pledge herself to Elinor.”

Elinor didn’t respond as she turned to study Gwen.  There’s a reason Tiffany and Edmon agree … Edmon wants to protect me, and this pledge will likely be no different than an enslavement ritual.  She’ll pledge herself to be useful to me.  It honestly isn’t a bad deal, and what other option does she have.  Well, I suppose she could take Dalria and carve out some kind of life here.  Dalria seems strong…

Her thoughts were broken as Gwen slowly nodded as she pressed her white fists against her thighs.  “I—understand.  I do want to—you’re the only thing connecting me to my past life.  I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Are you sure?”  Elinor asked.

Her smile was forced.  “I would jump at the chance to return home—I’d do anything—but I guess that’s impossible; the crystal broke.  I don’t know what you are now, but … staying with you is much better than being on my own.”

“We can perform the ritual once things settle down,” Tiffany said pleasantly while crossing her legs, and Edmon sat down as she waved for him to take a seat.  “For heaven's sake, Edmon, sit so Elinor doesn’t have to look up at you.”

“I suppose that would be more appropriate,” he mumbled.

Elinor, however, was a little distracted by Tiffany.  She frowned as she examined her former mother; one of the straps of her black bra had slid down to reveal more than Elinor liked, and she could see sections of bone, muscle, and glowing orange veins along her back.  “Umm—Tiffany, what happened to your shirt?”

Tiffany’s orange eyes popped before looking down at herself.  “Oh!  I suppose seeing your mother’s body in such a state would be disconcerting; more of my body will return as I continue to rank up.  I used a part of the shirt’s stomach to create the Protective Charm and used the rest as a temporary sack.  I can clean it off real fast and put it on if you like?”

“I’d like that,” Elinor chuckled.  “It is a little—distracting seeing you walk around with just your bra on.”

“Sure thing!”  She chimed, humming while moving to grab the item; just before turning the corner, she snapped her fingers, and a ball of orange flames lit at her side.  “Be back in a moment.”

“Right … so, to catch you up, Gwen, Demon is what I called the thing that attacked me.  It’s like … consider it like a powerful evil ghost that covers the entire planet we’re on.”

Gwen’s face turned ashen.  “It can’t—it’s even here right now?”

“No, not at the moment!”  Tiffany yelled from the other room.  “I purified this space; it can’t come back for at least another few minutes.  I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.”  She said, returning from around the corner.

She held up her blue spaghetti-strap shirt; there was a sizeable chunk cut out of the stomach area.  “Can I cut a circle around the stomach, Elinor?  I could create a small sack with it.”

Elinor pursed her lips, eyeing the fabric.  “I guess showing your stomach isn’t that big of a deal … I mean, it would show anyway.  Fine,” she sighed.

“Wonderful!  I need something to carry some ingredients in; you never know when you might need a little salt, calcium carbonate, or sulfur.”  She said while getting on her knees to cut out the large strip, causing Elinor to close her eyes and purse her lips as she exposed her chest.

She didn’t know why she cared, but it made her feel uncomfortable.  “Umm—Edmon, tell me a little about … eh, the terrain.”

“Barren,” he stated emotionlessly; it was as if he hadn’t even noticed Tiffany exposing herself.  “We seem to be in a volcanic zone, similar to Yellowstone National Park.  Therefore, I gather that we’re in a supervolcano.”  He paused as Tiffany cut in.

“There are wonderful materials all around us; it’s a Witch’s paradise!  Jungle on one side and a volcanic zone with tons of microorganisms doing all my work for me.”

Elinor dropped her eyes to the ground as she opened them, trying not to look at Tiffany; she was humming as if there wasn’t a care in the world, and Dalria seemed to have temporarily quit struggling as she gasped on the floor, drool leaking out of her open mouth.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Gwen smiling at her; she took advantage of the small gap Tiffany gave to say.  “Thanks, Elinor.”

“For what?”  She asked, noticing Edmon folding his arms, likely a little irritated about being interrupted, just like her dad.

“Telling your mom … Tiffany to put some clothes on.  It just helps ground my mind a little.”  A nervous chuckle left her throat as she rubbed her right arm.  “Just knowing you’ve still got human traits and knowledge … oh, not that you aren’t human.  You just seem very different—royal-like.”  She quickly added.  “I just—your presence—I don’t even know what I’m trying to say—sorry…”

“No, you’re fine.”  Elinor smiled while studied her open palm.  “I’m also relieved I still have parts of my humanity left, but I’m not human … not anymore.”

She giggled as she watched the armored man across from her stare at them in silence, sapphire mist spewing from the openings; she could almost feel his irritation.  “Go on, Edmon.”

“There is some kind of fortress in the distance; it appears to be in rough shape from what we could see.  It gives the impression of being abandoned, but there could still be lurking dangers inside.”

Tiffany sat down beside Edmon; she nudged him with her hips, telling him to scoot over.  “Mhm—c’mon, Edmon, give me some room!”

A low growl left his throat.  “I placed a rock over there for you … why do you want to sit with me?”  He asked while begrudgingly shifting to allow her room.

“Why else?  To not make Elinor shift her head so much!  Be a little considerate.”  She mumbled.

“You could have said something earlier; you don’t have to be…”

Elinor couldn’t help but smile with Gwen.  They certainly do act like my parents, but it’s like mom’s tease factor’s doubled, and dad’s stern protective nature’s enhanced.

Clearing her throat, Elinor interrupted her bickering minions.  “I know a little about that.”

Tiffany’s indignant expression melted like butter as she settled in to face her.  “Oh?  It sounds like you two had an exciting conversation!”

“It’s the enemy,” Edmon muttered.  “Not some old friend.”

Elinor responded before Tiffany could shoot back.  “He was interesting and dangerous,” she said with a nod at Edmon.

“I know we’re kind of going around in circles,” Gwen said, “but if you feel like it, could you tell us what happened from the beginning?”

“I think that’ll be best,” Elinor sighed.  “Alright—after Dalria killed my parents, I tried using every drop of energy I had to bring them back … I reforged my parents’ spirits with my desire.  I cut and pasted several things together to make them into what they are, and in doing this, I drew Demon’s attention.

“He latched onto my spirit and tried to either take me over or steal my power; however, Tiffany noticed the attack and protected me.”  She said with a satisfied smile at the woman across from her.

“You’re too kind,” Tiffany mumbled, cheeks flushed with orange light as she shuffled her feet.  “I only did what any good Royal Ritualist would do when their Empress is in trouble.”

Elinor’s vision fell, and she would have cried if she could, but it appeared this artificial body didn’t have that ability, and Emotional Loss quickly subdued the emotion.

“I was connected to Demon for a moment, and he felt … infinite—beyond powerful.  Eventually, we can ask these Plant Callers and see what they know about him.  After a while, I realized he was sealed, or more accurately, he’s being forcefully dispersed throughout the planet by some kind of device or devices.  This planet is like a prison for him.

“I called him Demon because he acted like one … if he had more knowledge about our world, and how human brains work—our history and nature, then I think he could be … if he learned more, then he would be so persuasive … probably unstoppable if free.”

Gwen swallowed nervously, and for the first time, Dalria raised her hand, body still shaking; although, her purple eyes were hard.  Everyone watched her silently as she continued to hold her hand in the air.

It didn’t take Elinor long to realize what she was doing.  She’s imitating Gwen’s action that allowed her to speak.  She’s paying close attention; she really is a dangerous enemy.

“What?”  Elinor asked bluntly.

 

* * *

 

Dalria swallowed as her eyes shifted between her captors; her body still remembered the burning coals that coursed through her veins whenever she so much as desired to rebel, but she had to risk displeasing them to understand this enemy they were discussing.

If this enemy gives them this much trouble, then it could turn its attention to my people, and I must prevent that.

“W-what—is this—unstoppable enemy?  I-is it a t-threat to—to my people?”

Her vision shot to the one Gwen had called Empress, Elinor, the leader.  Her passive expression darkened, making Dalria grab her arms to stop their quakes.  “A danger to your people?”  Her tone was cold.  “Your people destroyed my life; I’m a threat to your people.”

Dalria’s jaw locked as she saw the fire in each of their eyes; she was becoming accustomed to the subtle changes in their faces and postures that told her their mood.  Making an enemy of these creatures was unfortunate.

A lump dropped down her throat, and her stomach turned with unease.  “I—understand y-your feelings…”

Gwen’s face twisted.  “Understand—how … no, really—how?  I was going to help people … to bring them hope.  Your people only brought pain—death.  Have you lost everything—even your own world?”

She felt heat rising in her chest.  “Loss?  I—you’re monsters … you’re torturing me,” Dalria whispered, reluctantly returning the glare.  “I…”

“I what?”  Gwen shouted, causing Dalria to flinch.  She began to shake a moment before lashing out, slapping her across the face.  “I have children … they’re waiting for me—no father to take my place—waiting for me with—with a babysitter, and now … they’ll never know what happened to me!”

Dalria looked away; she couldn’t feel the blow, but knew what the creature meant, and didn’t quite understand the problem.  “We have our reasons, and I’m…”  She paused, and a quake ran down her body as the true monster spoke, Tiffany, the one Gwen feared and called a Witch.

“Oh, I completely understand.”

Tiffany’s face lifted in an expression that indicated joy, but her tone held a poisonous edge as she smoothly dropped to her knees.  Dalria twitched as the creature’s thin, delicate fingers reached out to caress the sides of her smooth head, leaving a tingle that shot down her spine.  She couldn’t identify the strange scent on her breath as she slowly closed the distance.  

“This is a jungle of a world with its own power structure; you were just doing what you were ordered.”

Dalria pressed her back against the rough stone beside her as Tiffany’s wide eyes drew closer.  “That’s right?”  She mumbled.

No one interrupted Tiffany as her words echoed in the silent space.  She licked her lips, teeth flashing.  “The great and strong will not yield to the weak and feeble; the powerful rise to adapt and overcome their detractors.  The sweat on their brow is what they reap and sow; they forge their own fortune from salt and sand.”

Her stomach tightened.  “W-what?”.

“You were a pawn from the start, were you not?”

It was hard to breath; Tiffany’s burning orange irises filled her vision, and her words scared her ears; she could feel more tears forming despite her efforts, yet she couldn’t look away.  “N-no, I—wasn’t a pawn...”

Tiffany’s words were crisp, and her strong voice rippled through Dalria’s body, more powerful than any blow.  She’d been thrown into the great deep, and she was sinking fathom by fathom; sunlight slowly fading with each passing word as she was cast into a chasm.

“The powerful chooses, unlike a slave who never strays from the path her master paves; follows every order and does everything they say … just like you’ve always done.  Beyond this ocean of choices, a light is waiting for you … the great chain in motion, beneath the waves … our Empire is thriving—our Empress is rising; your allies, choose them wisely—demons disguised by benign masquerades; angels climb out of their graves.”

Tiffany’s long black fur fell across her chest, teeth gleaming as she asked, “Stand with us, would you kindly?”

Her lips moved without thought.  “Yes.”  I … said yes?

The monster in front of her moved to whisper in her ear, pulling her fur behind her ear.  “Then would you kindly—obey?”

“Yes.”  Why…

The passionate creature pulled back, showing pure joy as she held out a piece of cloth, tied into a bag.  “Go collect my materials and put them in this cloth sack; every single grain beside the stream.”

She took the sack in utter disbelief.  Have I always been this weak?

Dalria looked down at the pouch in her hand; it looked like it had been threaded with strands of fur from Tiffany’s own head.  She rose and walked toward the stream, unable to resist. 

I’m weak … feeble … a slave … a light is waiting for me … the great chain in motion … our Empire is thriving … our Empress is rising … your allies … choose them wisely … stand with us … would you kindly … obey … obey … obey…

 

* * *

 

Elinor swallowed, feeling a little nervous herself as Dalria slowly moved to follow Tiffany’s orders.  What was that?  It felt like Tiffany was casting some kind of spell.

Gwen looked stunned as her eyes followed the toad until she turned the corner.  “What—did you do to her?”

Tiffany giggled.  “It’s just a simple mental trick; nothing that big, but it does require certain conditions.”  Her bright smile turned malevolent as she smiled at the wall.  “Consider it like hacking the brain; a simple Witch’s trick.”

“It doesn’t sound—that simple,” Gwen muttered, clearing her throat.

“Hmm,” Tiffany bunched her cheeks to the side with a thoughtful expression.  “I just created a magical parasite that I fed through her ear; well, hearing the words is one of the many conditions in creating it.”

A shiver ran down Gwen’s body.  “P-parasite?”

“It’s not a real parasite, right?”  Edmon asked with a dry tone.

“No?”  Tiffany smirked at him.  “It feeds off her resistance and twists her memories over time.”

Gwen slowly rubbed her arms.  “You’re terrifying.”  She whispered.

Elinor eyed the person that looked exactly like her mother.  She’s definitely not my mom … clearly; however, I’m no longer Elinor.  She looked down at Dalria’s drool, still wet on the floor.  This is my new family … death is a choice that I rejected.  Demon’s likely here … all around me.

Clearing her throat, Elinor glanced between her small group.  “Returning to the topic of Demon, he’ll always be a lurking threat, waiting, alert, and listening.  He will be targeting the snake-woman, and if he can get her, then it will be an issue.”

“Isn’t that playing with fire?”  Gwen asked.  “Should we really stand in his way if he’s that strong?”

“Nothing is stronger than the Empire,” Edmon stated as a cold fact.

Tiffany still wore a sinister grin on her soft lips as her orange irises fell on Gwen.  “What I told Dalria was no sweet lie.  Our Empress is rising, and her Empire is thriving; we will rise as a wave and crush all that stand against her—no gods, no kings, only Elinor, and what she allows.”

A chill ran down Elinor’s artificial spine at the revelation; this was what her minions saw when they looked at her.  She touched her butterfly tattoo on her back shoulder, voice a whisper as she repeated Edmon and Tiffany’s vision.  “I’m rising, and my Empire is thriving … no gods, no kings—only me and what I allow.”  Is that truly my purpose now … to stand above all?

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