The Devil and Leonora landed in the open field not too long after leaving the camp. The silver moon cast its white light down upon the overgrown meadow as the pair of winged beauties walked through it to the sound of wind ruffling the tall grass.

The Devil led and Leonora followed in her Master’s footsteps.

Diana walked through the knee tall grasses, brushing their ends with the tips of her black wings as she basked in the bountiful moonlight. Having run her hands through the grass for a short while, she chanced upon a closed flower bud that, in spite of all the other petty grasses, had managed to reach high enough to find sunlight.

The Devil plucked the flower and it immediately bloomed in her fingers. She sampled its fragrance before discarding it into the wind. She then turned her full attention to the handmaiden.

“Now, about our new companion,” Diana said and opened her eyes. Her look conveyed suspicion. “Lemmy told me that you visited Victorian’s chamber on the night of his arrival. Is that true?”

The handmaiden showed no hesitation as she answered. “Yes,” Leonora said. “But I was just curious.”

Diana clicked her tongue. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think that curiosity is what drove you to approach him.

I can sense the charm spell that you have placed on Victorian,” Diana said. “It’s a bit cruel to manipulate a young man like that, don’t you think?

But I must commend you on finding such an exposed weakness – to go straight for the heart. It seems to be working as intended. He has fallen for you. Surprisingly fast, I should add. I suppose it’s a testament to your skill… or his traumatized mind. Desperation makes anything possible, after all.”

“Alright,” Leonora said. “I admit it. I have charmed him.”

“Explain yourself,” Diana ordered in a calm voice.

There was anger in her eyes as the maiden spoke. “When I was told that a man of the Temple had entered our sanctuary, I laughed. I thought he would be killed quickly.”

Diana smiled. “Oh, you little liar,” she said, “I know that you would have preferred a slow death for him.”

“Yeah,” Leonora admitted, “I would love nothing more than to cut that vile man’s throat and watch him bleed out beneath my feet.”

A glint of insanity broke through her porcelain fine facial features. The handmaiden laughed as she recalled her earlier encounter with Victorian. “I was almost allowed to kill him earlier,” Leonora said. “Lady Silphi had me holding a knife to his throat. I was so close to–” she clenched her hands, “I almost did it.”

“Almost,” Diana pointed out.

“I won’t break the rule,” Leonora said, “I won’t spill the blood of another servant.”

“But you won’t break your spell on him either, will you?” Diana asked.

Leonora frowned at her suggestion. “I can’t kill him, but I will see him suffer – that you cannot deny me. You know that he deserves it. A clean death is too good for a Templar.”

“Really?” Diana asked, “You think that you can read his character that well?”

“Victorian is a paladin of the Temple,” Lenora said, “He is less than human and he deserves to be treated as such.

When I snuck into his chamber that night I looked into his mind.”

“And what did you see?” Diana asked.

“Enough,” Lenora answered, “Enough to know that he is not innocent.

I saw his crimes. I saw his past devotion to the Temple. I saw him kill people in its name. And I am disappointed that he has been given the honor of standing in your presence.

“Alright, he is not a white knight,” Diana said. “Is that why you seek to punish him?

Out of all the ways you could cause him pain you chose to make him desire you, knowing that it would all be in vain?”

“I do,” Leonora admitted, “I won’t deny it. Since I can’t harm him physically, I intend to crush his soul. I have pledged my service to you, Master, but I will give nothing but suffering to that wretched little man.”

Diana laughed, “And how exactly do you measure one’s guilt? How do you go about weighing a man’s soul?”

“I don’t,” Leonora answered. “If it’s heavy enough, it will drown on its own. And if not, then I can keep pushing it under until he suffocates beneath all the misery he has wrought upon this world.”

The winged beauties exchanged determined looks, waiting for the other party to speak next.

“And what if I let you keep your little charm on him?” Diana finally asked. “What if I ordered you to go further than that? Would you give yourself to him? Body and soul…”

The mere suggestion warranted an open expression of unbridled disgust from Leonora, “He is a Templar, Master! He is a monster that lives on by the grace of your kindness that I, frankly, find misplaced. To even consider giving myself to someone like him, a man who is as foul as to have served the Temple would be like giving up on life itself!”

“But what if it was an order?” Diana asked.

“I would not,” Leonora replied.

Diana furrowed her brow. “Is that so?”

The Devil flicked her palm.

Compelled by her Master’s unspoken will, Leonora drew her dagger and placed it at her own throat.

“Lady Albrecht! Please!” she exclaimed while desperately struggling to keep the blade away from her neck.

“Do you fear death?” Diana asked while keeping her hand extended towards Leonora, holding the handmaiden’s life in her fingers. She closed their distance until the two women stood face to face just an arm’s reach away from one another.

Leonora kept silent, but her terrified look betrayed her true state of mind – It expressed a fearful defiance as the young woman resisted the Devil’s power to the best of her meager abilities.

Diana moved one finger. The dagger in Leonora’s hand parted from her throat and rose to point its tip at the soft skin of her left cheek.

“Do you fear death, my little dove?” Diana asked.

The girl shivered at the sharp touch of the blade’s point as it slowly pressed into her skin.

“Victorian has already experienced enough death and misery in his life to break him,” Diana said as she examined the pained expression of her spiteful handmaiden. “Unlike you he does not fear it. That alone makes him worthy of standing at my side.

I do not reward my servants for what they were born with, but for what they have achieved. Much like you, I have glimpsed his past. In the throne room I peered into his eyes – into his soul – and I saw terrible things. I saw remorse and sorrow. But I also saw in him a burning desire for redemption.

Frankly, my dear, to go through what he did and keep his sanity – it was no small feat of endurance.”

The handmaiden’s breathing was shallow and quick as she listened to her master words.

“Pain, perhaps?” Diana asked, “Do you fear torment?”

The Devil slowly folded her finger.

Leonora winced in pain as the dagger drew a line across her cheek. With tears running down her face she fought the Devil’s absolute control over her, but it was ultimately pointless. Leonora’s body trembled as the helpless handmaiden struggled to suppress her growing desire to cry out in pain. Her insides turned; her face felt like it was burning – it seemed to last an eternity.

Having left a shallow scar along its path, the dagger finally halted just below the corner of her mouth.

“Do you fear death, Leonora?” Diana repeated her question. “Just answer me and we can end this.”

The Devil moved her fingers around a little and the bloody tip of the blade was now pointed at Leonora’s other cheek.

The handmaiden’s face was deeply flustered from how hard she fought to try and endure the torture. The wound on her left cheek left a trail of blood that ran down her neck soaking Leonora’s blue clothes in a dark shade of red.

“Your stunning looks are your greatest weapon, my little dove,” Diana said in a cold, cruel voice. “What would you be without them? Hmm?

I gave you that beauty. I gave you your magic. I even gave you your wings.

I took it all from an angel that I strangled with my own two hands… and gave it to you. A gift.

Victorian, on the other hand, has earned all that he is – the good as well as the bad. He owes nothing to me but his soul, life and allegiance. I offered him the chance to redeem himself because he has earned it.”

Leonora trembled as she gazed into her master’s eyes.

“What would you be without my gifts?” Diana asked. He finger twitched. The point of the dagger once more pressed into the handmaiden’s cheek.

“Nothing!” Leonora screamed out in fear. “I would be nothing, Master! Please–” her eyes begged for mercy.

Diana’s finger froze and so did the dagger. “That’s not entirely true,” she said.

“I would be nothing without you, Master!” Leonora forced the words through the pain. She was on the cusp of crying. “Please forgive me, Master!”

The Devil flicked her finger and the handmaiden flinched. But when Leonora mustered the courage to open her eyes, she found that the dagger had landed at her feet.

“Who are you?” Diana asked her, sizing up the handmaiden with her piercing gaze.

“No one,” Leonora muttered. She covered up the wound on her cheek with her hand. The blood slowly seeped through her fingers.

The Devil frowned. “Wrong answer,” Diana said.

“Who are you?”

“L– Leonora,” the girl fumbled her words, “I am your faithful servant, Master.”

“What else?” Diana persisted.

Leonora appeared terrified. She hesitated while searching for the answer that in her mind would please the Devil.

“I don’t– I don’t know, Master,” she finally admitted.

Diana gently took hold of her Leonora’s bloodied hand and lowered it at the handmaiden’s side. “Why do you think that you can judge the weight of Victorian’s soul or the character of his person when you know so little about yourself? Why do you think that you can pass judgment on others, when you are so clueless about your own faults?”

Leonora had no answer to give.

The Devil ran her hand over the handmaiden’s face wiping away the blood and smiled. “All better now.”

As Leonora touched her cheek she found that the wound had disappeared without a trace and so had the pain. Her clothes were still soaked in blood though.

“Life will hurt you, my little dove,” Diana explained. “Pain will find you and it has a thousand shapes – a thousand daggers to stab you with.

Love can be one of those daggers. The people you love can be the ones that will hurt you the most, which is why you should not play with their hearts. It is the highest form of cruelty.

But if you truly want Victorian to suffer then don’t break the charm spell. Let him fall for you. Let him fight for you. That way he will drive himself to death if only to make you smile. But know that in doing so you will not prove his guilt. You will just be making a better man out of him in the end.

Diana wiped the tears from her handmaiden’s flustered face. “Don’t waste your life on hatred,” she said. “We all fall on enough daggers along the way as it is. Don’t lay down your own. Let Victorian go…”

Leonora nodded and lowered her head in silent submission. The night was cold ad she was trembling.

“Return to the encampment,” Diana ordered. “I have people to kill.”

***

Later that night Diana stood alone at the edge of a graveyard atop of a hill overlooking the nearby city of Hadel. With her black wings folded behind her back she examined the sleeping settlement before her.

The city was surrounded on all sides by a four meter tall stone wall. There were thick wood plank clad watchtowers every fifty meters or so which were sure to provide good vantage points for the defenders during a siege.

The massive stone bell tower of the temple marked out the center of the city, but even this monument to the gods paled in comparison to the Rotwald keep itself. The impressive fortification stood shrouded in the darkness of the night, overlooking the rest of the settlement. The well-fortified seat of the Rotwald house rested atop of a twenty meter tall naturally formed granite cliff that had been further extended by adding no less than six meters of thick siege walls onto it. At the center stood the keep itself – a grim looking box of a structure that made up for its lacking aesthetic appeal by the grace of its purely defensive purpose.

“It would be hard to take the city by foot alone,” Diana noted. “No, it should be near impossible for the forces that I have in mind.”

Curiously enough, she smiled at the affirmation of her doubts.

“Perfect. This will be a night to remember.”

Half hidden by the fortifications a sparse few sentries could be seen patrolling the city walls. A lone torch also appeared from time to time atop of the Rotwald keep.

“It looks like they are alert enough,” Diana said. “Why don’t we go and say hello?”

She turned around and placed her hands together for a chant. The fresh, uneven graves below her feet stood out among the otherwise orderly graveyard that served as the final resting place for countless generations of the city’s inhabitants. They were the most recent burials and the number of the graves suggested that either an epidemic or a battle had taken its toll on the population.

She hummed joyously as she channeled her magic, “Father Night – the moon shines bright...”

The ground beneath her erupted with arcane veins of pale green light. The air grew cold and wind ceased to blow. A life withering force spread itself out though the graveyard. The unholy magic took hold of the densely packed ground as it pushed the earth up and out of the freshly filled graves, giving way for the restless dead to rise and once more roam the earth.

With but a whisper from the Devil’s mouth the heavy soil of the graves parted and their recently deceased inhabitants clawed their way out of them. An army of the dead answered her call to gather. Held together by an otherworldly aura of pale green light, the bone and flesh constructs gathered around their summoner, eager to do her bidding.

“Not enough,” Diana said. “I need more bodies.”

The Devil raised her voice but a little for the second chant.

Words barely louder than whispers – magic cast nearly on a whim.

The dead were obliged to answer her call.

The pale green light of her death magic shot across the ground of the graveyard like the roots of a tree, reaching the farthest of corners, the loneliest of graves. The entire hill shook as earth itself gave birth to an army of the dead.

Farmers, bakers, masons or traders – whatever their past lives and choices had made of the previous owners of those corpses, they now sought to serve but one purpose. Any purpose, named or merely suggested would be enough to direct them. But it had not been given yet.

A glowing orb of pale green light formed in the skies above the graveyard. It gathered mass and power for a short while before – having achieved sufficient concentration – falling towards the graveyard. The moment it struck earth a vortex of lost souls erupted into the night sky, lighting up the entire area with the cold, life robbing aura of death. The last remnants of the once strong souls that still clung to this dead place spun and weaved their way around the graveyard passing through each other and the tombstones alike in a display of perfect chaos.

Under the effects of the Devil’s spell the graveyard had become a beacon of un-death that was set to continuously drawl wondering souls towards it. It absorbed them; adding strength to its corrupting influence, granting magic power to any and all that could harness it in this, the most foul of its forms – necromancy.

Diana lowered her arms, content with her creation. She looked over the hundreds of walking corpses that slowly but steadily gathered into an overwhelming mass of death undone and… smiled.

There was nothing but kindness in her expression as she addressed her newly raised army, “Gather forth, my servants. Rise up and let your anger be known to those that wronged you.”

She looked to the yet pristine corpses of the men that had been recently killed by the Duke, “Remind them of their crimes against House Rotwald.”

Finally given a purpose by their summoner, the undead horde joined in a low growl to express their willingness to obey her.

A lone bell rang out into the night from atop of one of the sentry towers signaling alarm.

–Then another one.

–And another.

Soon enough the entire town was drowned beneath the incessant warnings of the sentries, calling out to any and all that something horrible was about to happen; that a terrible foe had appeared.

The ghouls – the men most recently slain – groaned in agony for the pain of their unjust deaths. The skeletons of the long dead citizens creaked as they swayed back and forth, trying to keep their bodies from falling apart in these, the very first moments of their brand new lives.

Diana pointed her wing in the direction of the rising commotion beneath the hill. “Lay siege to the city,” she commanded.

Naked bones scraped against the ground. Bare feet mulled the dirt and dust. The army of the dead complied and marched off towards their target.

An ever growing trail of lone stragglers dragged behind the main force as new corpses were constantly being raised by the spell that Diana had cast over the graveyard.

The Devil faced the city and spread her wings. “I have made my move, Duke Stenfeld,” she said. “Now let’s see what you will do to counter it.”

With a silent gust of wind she took flight into the night sky. Below her an ever growing army of the dead shuffled towards the city of Hadel.

A battle between the dead and the living was about to begin.