Silk Roads

Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Dark Mark and Confession

Date: 30 May 1967
Location: Malfoy Manor, hallway

Voldemort smiled dementedly to himself as he walked ahead of his two newly acquired Potions' Masters – he was powerful enough to show his back without worry. Convincing Weasley to sign the contract and to take his mark was as easy as stepping on a flobberworm. Ignatius Rose however... His smile vanished. The enigma only went with the flow, not even asking a single question in relation to Voldemort or his contract. It was difficult to figure out what the albino was thinking – with the mask hiding the young man's expression, and his body language giving nothing away.

The thoughts concerning Ignatius were then pushed to the back of his mind as they reached the double doors that led to the assembly room, sans chairs. His Knights were already inside waiting for them, with a few extras.

He turned to the two behind him and gave a reassuring smile – he had told them beforehand that there would be an audience when they take his mark, and that it would be a little painful. Weasley only stared back with determination in those baby blue eyes of his, whilst Ignatius ignored him in favor of twirling a snowy lock of hair around his index finger. He wanted to cut said finger off, but refrained in actually doing so. Fingers and hands are the life of Potions' Masters everywhere.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?" It was only polite to ask.

"Yes, sir!" he would need to push them into calling him 'Lord' soon.

"Yess sir..." Ignatius dragged the S like how Voldemort would when he lost his temper. He only continued to smile, as if he took no notice of the albino's strangely familiar accent. He knew another person who spoke similar to Ignatius, but he could not recall exactly who said person was – it felt as if the answer was just there, with him unable to grasp it no matter how hard he tried.

"Excellent." With that, he pulled out a black robe from one of his hidden pockets, and donned it.

He turned back to the double doors and pushed. There was a slight creak when the doors parted, and he took note to inform Abraxas afterwards. It was unbecoming to have creaky doors. He strode forward, his eyes solely focused on his throne even as his followers dropped on one knee with a bow as he walked past them. He gestured for his two Potions' Masters to stand behind another group of newly recruits, and continued onwards until he sat comfortably on his throne.

He crossed his right leg over his left and smirked at the sight before him. It felt wonderful to have all these powerful men and women with varies of talents on their knees, respecting (and fearing) him as if he were a monarch. He took out his beloved yew wand and twirled it around his fingers – a habit of his that he could not rid of no matter how hard he tried.

"Welcome my friends... I thank you all for coming." His expression relaxed into one of tranquil. "Rise – and be at ease."

His followers all stood in attention with their hands firmly clasps behind their backs – like how he had trained them to when in his presence. What perfectly obedient soldiers he has in his disposal. They all looked at him with different levels of awe and admiration, and this made his blood sing exuberantly.

"I have called you all here to welcome yet another batch of recruits that have joined our cause. It is commendable for they have chosen to be here with us – to put a stop against the discrimination we Dark Wizards and Witches have to put up with on a daily basis. We will not allow our Magical counterparts to continue with their arrogance in throwing the old ways any further." He paused for effect. He needed his followers and soon to be followers to be drawn in by his speeches – to be enamored with him.