Rolland was first to appear, with Ellen close on his tail. He had chosen a derelict alleyway as their destination.

The once proud gothic-like buildings with their spires, gargoyles and glass panels were reduced to rubble, obvious scars from previous wars which they neglected to rebuild or had left as a testament to history. It was saddening that such marvels were deduced to nothing, even more saddening that the wars that seemed to occur so often were almost undertaken for superiority cleansing. There was no harmony, and the scene in front of Ellen demonstrated that. She took a rugged step forward, taking the ruins in. The blue sky overhead was bright and chirpy – a dire, teasing contrast of depression and happiness.

"This is so sad," she whispered, her eyes running along bent pieces of metal and broken concrete. "I have no faith."

"Now you see what war and rampage can do to a city. Now you can see why you must never talk about darkness. I can assure you that the damage is not just aesthetic, but runs through the citizens too." He ran his fingers along some of the ruins. "I have fond memories of this place, my grandparents had a house here. It was a gorgeous city and very alluring to the eyes. But now, we must press on."

He wrapped an arm around Ellen's shoulders and guided her out of the damaged alleyway. They turned another corner and were met by a sudden change of scenery. The rubble remained behind them; in front of them, tall modern buildings which were a mix of paned glass and elegant metal. The change was so succinct that it was as if they had just passed into another world. There was no sign of conflict past.

Ellen struggled to combat the oncoming foot traffic. There were throngs of people, a herd which seemed to draw her in amongst them and take her with them. It was so thick that the faces of the people seemed to blend in with each other – a faceless crowd. Rolland grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him.

"Try and stay close," he whispered to her, walking and dividing the crowd around them.

"Why are there so many people?" she asked alarmed and wide-eyed. The last she had been in a crowd so massive was when her stalker – one of Lucien's henchmen – had appeared to be in a car accident. And that was something she would rather put behind her, to suppress that painful memory. "Did something happen?"

Rolland proceeded pushing through the pedestrians, most of them not even realising he was there. He must have been bending reality with every step they made. He finally replied, through clenched teeth. "This is peak hour in the morning. It's normal."

She felt slightly like a fool but it was short lived. They erupted into a thinner crowd, who were more relaxed and strolling rather than power-walking.

"We're nearly there," he added. "This is more of a shopping destination for tourists." They lessened their pace to be more natural, and Ellen was finally able to catch her breath. Whilst there were still plenty of people around them, they didn't appear to be in a rush to get somewhere. Most had food or coffee in hand, some waiting patiently outside of an interesting boutique or shop to open.

And then a moment of sudden realisation. "Rolland, I realised. You didn't actually tell me what we are attending to?"

"Someone tried to practise other abilities and summon someone who shouldn't be summoned. You know what I'm saying?"

"Oh." An instant wave of regret washed over her. She really shouldn't have come. She looked up at the pristine sky which seemed to mock her. "Are you sure I should be here?"

He looked back at her and then looked away. "I don't expect much to happen. You will be fine. Ah, here we go."

Rolland guided her into a smaller street which was well landscaped and maintained. Smaller, newer trees were planted along the side of the road offering nature and greenery amongst the man-made environment. Tall buildings surrounded them, a mix of both new and old, historical creations. All of this caught Ellen's eye but not as much as the one that was at the end of the street. It was the grandest of them all, and dwarfed both of them in its height and glory. It reminded her of a castle, with turrets, smaller windows, and made of stone. Like those that were brought to ruin, this one had elements of gothic influence.

"That," Rolland pointed. "Used to be a satellite meeting point for us. But now, after the fights, it is a museum about medieval times and sorcery. What better place to summon the lord of darkness than something that holds significance to us, right? Very fitting."

He closed his eyes, the colour draining from his face; turning a ghastly pale.

Ellen watched and grew with worry. "Are you okay?" He looked sick; unhealthy.

"I'm fine." He smiled and the colour returned immediately.

"So," Ellen said nervously, her voice quivering. "What are we waiting for?"

"I'm trying to pick up on anything, if there is something out of the ordinary. And," he added, laughing. "There it is." His laugh and smile disappeared, replaced by nothing but coldness and seriousness. He locked eyes with Ellen, his eyes deathlike and all warmness had vanished.

And then she shuddered, her skin prickling up in small lumps.

The sign was unmistakable.

Ellen almost swore that her body was plunged into an ice bath and her energy drained away from her. Trembling, she saw the lights in the shop at the end of the narrow street go out plunging the shop-keep into sudden curiosity and a bout of head scratching. She wanted to break into a run but her feet wouldn't let her. They were anchored to the concrete; the trapped feeling making panic resurface within her. Her head became light, threatening to make her faint unless she managed to regain control of her breathing and body. She tried to scream but her throat was clamped. Even if she could, she doubted anyone would come to her aid. The street would be sealed to pedestrians and no one would hear her.

She tried to refocus on the training that Dvorak had taught her, to possess someone. She closed her eyes, concentrating all her might on Rolland. Ellen let the hate she felt channel through her body. There was a small vibration which indicated that she was close to achieving her goal but everything it came, it fell away. Rolland was fighting back; fighting against her.

Ellen looked behind Rolland where a concentration of black mist had ascended. And then this disappeared, to reveal a man. He took slow steps towards Ellen, the distance closing with each one he made. Ellen hated everything about him, from his pale skin to his short, black hair. His robes swung behind him, the ivy green and gold shimmering with every move. His face had broken into a massive grin, and he clapped his hands together to the non-existent audience.

"Bravo!" Lucien drawled. "Bravo! I dare say, you've managed to keep away for so long. But now here we are. You just couldn't stay away from me, could you?"

He placed a gloved hand on Rolland's shoulder and then sidestepped him. He kept moving towards her, slithering towards her like a snake.

He was five metres from her.

Four metres.

Three.

Two.

One metre.

And then he was so close that his nose brushed up against hers. There was a tingle as his breath hit the skin on her face and he lifted one his hands; his fingers delicately brushing along her cheekbones.

"There is no need to blush," he mused. "You are mine after all."