Lord Bane knelt by the strange dagger infront of him. His eyes were fixated on the wavy shape of its blade, and he dared not look upon the mirror placed on the altar before him; the One Who Shall Not Be Named lurked within the fog beyond the surface of the mirror. 

The room was dimly lit by candles with purple flames. The aroma of spices and flowers filled the air. There was another distinct odeur: blood. An indescribeable prescence was in the room.

Mechthilde, Bane’s beloved, lay collapsed in a pool of blood next to him.

What is it you seek?

Spoken in the forbidden tongue, the voice echoed in his mind. Sweat began perspiring profusely across the elven lord’s forehead. For the first time in a long time, his body trembled out of fear. 

“Please… o Great One… spare the child,” the elven lord replied outloud in the forbidden tongue

He was forced to clench his eyes shut as sadistic laughter began to echo painfully in his mind. His trembling hands slowly became fists before the laughter ceased. 

What is it… you have to offer?

Blood began to drop slowly from Bane’s nostrils as the presence thickened in the room. Doubling his resolve, the elven lord steered his head to look at the corpse of his deceased lover. 

“M-my life…” he said weakly, tears forming in his eyes.

As the laughter came once more it affected him less. He stared at Mech’s lifeless eyes, their newborn baby covered in blood, dead, in her arms.

Interesting proposition…

Something gripped Bane, and the sudden feeling made him choke briefly. He found himself standing up to face the mirror against his own will. He tried to resist, initially, but the presence was too strong.

But, I believe you have more to offer.

Something raked his mind as soon as his gaze touched the mirror. The feeling seemed to scour every inch of his thoughts, like a needle inching its way from one end to the other. Bane’s head tilted backwards from the pain as the One Who Shall Not Be Named spoke in his mind once more. 

You are ambitious, and you have dreams, this is what you will offer me.

In an instance the presence left his mind, releasing its hold over him. The elven lord collapsed before the altar and mirror. He gasped for air as the voice returned. 

You will offer me your dreams of establishing power in this world.

There was a subtle chuckle from the voice as Bane composed himself. Wiping the blood from his nose with the sleeve of his robes. He straightened his back as he went to look in the mirror, fear nipping at him as his rational mind began to realize what he was about to do. 

“I am yours, o Great One.” Lord Bane spoke slowly.

Something moved through the fog within the mirror. A chill flew up and down Bane’s spine in the same instance as he braced himself. 

A face, not unlike a feline’s, smoothly came into view; it had two yellow eyes, and four much smaller ones below the larger eyes. It grinned sinisterly, showcasing a dark pink nose, and mouth that housed what seemed like ten thousand fangs. Purple flames, barely visible in the dark recesses of the mirror, encircled the sleek face like a lion’s mane. 

Good… There will be much to discuss… In the future.

The head nodded in the direction of the strange blade, which Lord Bane had not realized was now in his hands. Once again, fear nipped at him as he opened his left palm and motioned with the wavy blade. He winced as he cut himself deeply with the strange dagger. 

Now, place your palm on the mirror…

His trembling hand bled profusely as he slowly moved it towards the mirror. As his palm neared the mirror, Bane halted. The fear he felt began to subside, and he noticed the demon in the mirror nod slowly.

Come now, realize all your dreams with me… Lord Bane.

The highlord placed his bloody palm upon the mirror. Nothing happened as he pulled his hand away from the stain he left. The One Who Shall Not Be Named closed its eyes as it licked the mirror from wherever it was. Bane’s blood vanished, and the being’s chuckles returned as it turned and vanished amidst the fog once more. 

Stunned, Lord Bane stared into the dark fog within the mirror. He began contemplating the gravity of what he had done just a moment ago, only to be interrupted by the wailing cries of a baby. His gaze shot like an arrow at the child that stirred and cried out in her dead mothers arms. Bane rushed to cradle his baby girl. 

Picking her up in disbelief as she cried, he covered her in his own blood. Raising her up, he inspected her, ensuring in every way that she was healthy.

“Kira…” the elven lord whispered as he gazed into the eyes that were her mothers.

It was then that the voice returned.

You will come to know me as Tsazzdekk.

Bane nodded knowingly before clutching his daughter close to him. He looked at his beloved, Mechthilde. Staring at her lifeless corpse, he was assaulted by all the precious moments they had shared and been through together. He heard her laughter, her voice, and could still smell her hair.

Leave her, she was never yours.

He cursed his memory in that moment, just as a vision of her smiling began to form in his mind. Pain and sadness consumed him, and it took every fiber in Bane’s being to turn around and move out of the room. Kira had stopped crying while he caressed her in his arms; Tsazzdekk laughed once more as Lord Bane heard the demon beginning to consume Mech’s corpse.

End.

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