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Jessica openly perused the many powerful and private treasures in the dark lord's quarters. The black draped canopy bed, dark wood cabinets, and brutal weapons were all expected. Adorning the walls and softening the floors were tapestries depicting morbid and vicious acts, art stolen from every dark corner of Faiden and stowed in the private chambers like absent reminders of his personal hell. The most surprising artifact in the room was the large cracked amethyst crystal on center display near the balcony doors. "What an odd, sentimental treasure to keep all of these centuries." Her perfectly manicured and painted fingers rested on the protective glass shielding the gemstone.
"Why have you invaded my rooms, Jessica?" The dark lord's voice was cold and dangerous.
Jessica turned to meet him, her expression and demeanor unafraid. "I haven't spoken to you in person since you were a boy-general in your father's army," she replied. Looking over at him, she was almost moved to pity. The flesh of his face was ghastly pale and sunken from spiritual and physical malnourishment. His hair was stained pitch black along with his eyes and the great wings on his back that had once shown blood red. Even the once-white wings he kept mostly hidden were stained a dark gray. He was deeply touched by a sinister force that had eaten away at him, weakened him almost to the point of death, yet suspended him forever at nineteen.
"Do not speak of those days," he warned, his eyes vacant in spite of the command she heard in his tone.
Jessica raised a dainty brow at the odd, violet-gray magic enveloping him, almost overpowering the black sorcery that coursed deep from within his core. She had only ever seen such a sinister magical stain on Jellen. Now she realized why the old amalgamer wanted the dark lord dead. "Why should I not? Does that past not exist?"
"Not anymore. Not to me. I have no name and no past," he answered simply.
"Hm." She looked back to the stone under glass. "Then why do you keep Amythyst's lifestone?" She lifted her hand again to touch the display, her nails grazing over the smooth surface. "It is useless to a nameless dark lord."
"Why have you come? Was it to bait me into attacking you?" he retorted, his eyes showing the first hint of real anger.
Jessica was almost tempted to smile. So he was protective of the gem, but not enough to tell her to let it be. "No. Why I came has already been resolved, so now I am merely entertaining myself." When Faiden fell, she had been tempted for the first time in the history of Midia to involve herself in the affairs of mortal governments. When she realized the coup had been orchestrated by High Prince Sayron, all notion of playing a part disappeared. He was, after all, the heir under the high king. Instead, she had offered a treaty to the new ruler of Faiden, and considered the issue closed. Seeing him as the devastated echo of the sorcerer he'd once been gave her pause. Had she lived long enough on Midia to care what tragedies befell her neighbors?
The dark lord strode up to Jessica and stared her in the eye. "Then you should leave."
Jessica smiled coyly, an expression so false that she felt odd wearing it. "Do you not wish to know why I am here?" The sorceress so rarely felt moved by anything that she was curious to discover the nature of her subtle despondence.
He shook his head, his eyes cold once more. "If it concerns me, I am certain I will know soon enough."
Jessica left him to his lifeless crystal and drifted out onto the balcony, letting the sharp drafts whip her skirt around her ankles. "I wanted to know what of Jellen's you possessed. Now I realize you have stolen his power." She glanced over her shoulder at him, once again amazed by the transformation of what had once been a handsome and engaging fae. "This information also answered many questions I never bothered to ask."
The dark lord sighed and joined her on the balcony to look out over the bleak landscape. "Very well. I will play your game, Jessica. What questions?"
"The boy prince I knew was proud, but kind," she mused, taking in his brutal and savage lands. His was a black world without life or the light of the sun. "Now I can see the darkness that devoured his soul. Had I the ability to feel pity, I would." She cast an apathetic look to him. "As you are now, I agree for the most part. Sayron did, indeed, die thirty leagues south of my bay."
"Hm." He turned to meet her gaze, but she could see his thoughts were far from the conversation with which he was indulging her.
"You should know that he is not beyond rescuing." Jessica was not sure why she felt the desire to share her observations with him. Perhaps it was a near-extinct loyalty to the high queen who had been so fair in her dealings with Sorcery Bay. Perhaps it was because she had actually respected the young fae prince, even if he was unfortunately born male. Or perhaps . . . it was the tears and the screams of a charge she had sheltered in secret some time ago. "I have seen souls tainted by deeper darkness than yours revived." Though her tone was one of indifference, her comments revealed the slight concern for the fate of a high prince with whom she had once had many dealings.
The dark lord's eyes narrowed slightly. "I do not need rescuing, she-demon. I am quite content with my existence."
Jessica turned back toward the horizon, noticing the change in his voice and the shift in his stance. "That is not you speaking." She willed herself home, not bothering to wait for his reply. The dark, violet-gray magic she'd witnessed on the dark lord was unlike anything she'd seen before. He was a helpless puppet against its awesome strength, and she understood why the Oracle had devoted so much time and risked so much to protect Kayron. Another war was coming, and more than Faiden hung in the balance. "Where did you find such a powerful evil, Jellen?" She reclined in her favorite chair and summoned a glass of bloodwine. "And how ever did you lose it to a mere, foolish boy?"