In the Blade's Hilt |A tale from Triterra|

Chapter 41 - Dark Meetings in Dark Rooms

Deep within the blackened walls of his fortress, Zandor stood in front of a tall hanging mirror.  He ran his finger across the cracks on his face and checked it for any signs of blood.  There was none.  Sorul walked into the room and observed what his master was doing.

"If I may ask,my lord, what are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm making sure I'm not bleeding from anywhere.  I'd like to look my best.  Although, doing that in a form like this is something that's beyond even my power" replied Zandor.

He strode over to a large leather and stone chair.  He sat down on it and crossed his legs.

"Now, your reason for being here.  What is it?"

"Well, I have come to update you on the status of the boy" began Sorul, "The memory block I placed has been removed.  I fear he shall learn of the stone's power soon.  On another note, his companion was bitten by a werewolf and is now feverish.  He is trying to bring him back to the City.  Should we take action?"

Zandor chewed on his nails thoughtfully.

"No.  The lycanthropy should cause enough problems.  Leave them be for now, but keep observing from afar"

"But what if-"

Zandor raised his hand to silence him.

"As I've said before, my dear friend, I believe in fair play.  It would not be fair to attack them now"

Sorul nodded.

"What about the army situation?" he asked.

"Don't you worry.  I have it covered.  But in order to do it, I will need the book.  But that is something for another day.  Now, be off" replied the dark wizard.

Sorul bowed and unsheathed his sword.  He slashed at the air four times, creating a large hole.  He stepped through it and it sealed up again.

Zandor stood up and strode over to the window.  He looked out at the grey skies and bleak landscapes.  One day, he will be able to leave this place.  One day.