The elevator comes to a stop. Azrael and Marchioness Atalante walk into a long corridor. To both sides of this corridor are rusted doors. "M-marchioness!" yells a man from behind the door. "I-is that you... Marchioness Atalante? No, those footsteps... it's definitely you, MARCHIONESS!!" The man runs into the door in a frenzy and falls. "Marchioness! Marchioness!" The man screams her name like a maniacal pervert.
"Do you... know him?"
"He was a stalker who infiltrated my mansion. After placing his hands on me, I locked him in this dungeon."
"I see..." It appears as though nobility also have their fair share of problems to deal with.
"Lord... Professor Azrael, this is Magus Academy's special dungeon."
"Special dungeon?"
"Yes, the people locked behind those doors are magicians who have committed heinous acts of treachery. From studying forbidden magics to kidnapping residents of the outer city for magical experiments, these criminals have no morality. That said, the person we will speak to is someone I believe will never consider your humanitarian ideology. You told me she has chosen to side with Azazel, correct? Then I doubt she would want to hear anything from the person Azazel has betrayed."
"That may be but anything could happen. I've seen humans' opinions change over the centuries."
"Those are humans. We are dealing with a vampire. Speaking of, do you have a way to kill her if she does not comply?"
"Not until I regain my powers, no."
"I see. Then we will keep her down here until we find a way to unseal your powers."
After walking for ten minutes, they reach a cell with security guards. The guards are shocked to see Marchioness Atalante but greet her despite the fact. It was a feeling at first but I'm certain now—Atalante is someone the residents of this city respect. She came off as someone troubling when we first met but as we spoke yesterday, I felt more comfortable than I was at the beginning of the conversation. She has a way with words that can lighten a room's mood. Maybe I should have chosen her as a hero instead of Dolion. If I did, would this kingdom have grown differently?
"Professor Azrael, it's open."
"Let's go."
After the guards open the door for Azrael and Marchioness Atalante, they enter a dark room. Torches, lodged in the walls, light up from the entrance to the end of the room. At the end of the room, Amanda sits, unresponsive. Her hands and feet are chained to the walls and her eyes are wrapped shut with cloth. When she hears the torches light, she tilts her head slightly and smiles. "Professor Azrael," she says in a calculating tone. "It's been a while hasn't it?" She turns to look at Marchioness Atalante and says, "Oh my? Who might this woman be? She's exuding such an unladylike aura."
Marchioness Atalante, despite smiling, snaps. "Unladylike?"
"Yes, such a crude aura. I've only seen one man with a cruder aura." She turns to Azrael, "And he's standing next to you."
Before Marchioness Atalante attacks Amanda, Azrael stops her. "That's enough Atalante."
"Atalante? As in 'The Huntress' Marchioness Atalante Dukas? I see, it's no wonder your mana is so crude. You are one of the Ten Wands."
"I am, yes. And you are the lackey of a maniacal minor god."
Amanda's smile fades into an expressionless glare. "So, you told this unladylike woman about your little secret?" She sighs, "And there goes my plan to surprise her with the truth. Well, if my plans are ruined, then I have nothing more to say. You will not convince me to—"
"What did Azazel promise you?" he asks.
"What?"
"Azazel is a good negotiator. If he knows how to exploit someone, he can easily get that person aboard his plans. And that usually comes in the form of a promise. So, what did Azazel promise you?"
Amanda does not respond. She grits her teeth as she thinks momentarily, then says, "What do you want from me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why are you bothering with me? I attacked you twice, yet you still wish to speak to me. If I betrayed Azazel, he would have no issue abandoning me. We are all just pawns in a game of chess."
"No one is a pawn. This is no chess game. And I am not Azazel. I am the Primordial God of Death, Azrael. You are all living beings. And Azazel has no right to manipulate you into roleplaying in his fantasy world. Amanda Vlad, humans are not all that different to vampires, goblins, angels, demons, dwarves, elves, or any other living creature within any realm. Sure, you all have unique differences among your races but your hearts are all the same. I would be wrong if I didn't admit that this world is a dog-eat-dog world. There will come a day when you experience pain beyond what words can describe. Believe me, I've felt my fair share of heartache. But as a Primordial God, I could not allow myself to just lie down and wallow in self-pity. I have a duty to watch over this world and see its development to the end."
"A duty?" she asks bursting into a fit of laughter. "A duty, you say. Well, Lord Azrael, what, pray tell, is my duty? I have lived for over half a millennium and not once have I found my purpose in life. I was born to suffer."
"You are born and you suffer. No one is born to suffer. I won't lie and say I know what your purpose is. But I will say this, you will eventually find that out. Your purpose in life is not something you discover, its something that discovers you. Fate will lead your purpose to you."
"Fate? You want me to put my faith in fate? When has fate ever done me good? Lord Azrael, when has fate ever done you good? Fate led Azazel to betray you. Fate led you into the Mortal Realm. Fate has cursed you with that body. And fate will be the cause of your death, Lord Azrael. Speaking of fate, I'm sure fate is treating your students kind, right?"
"What... are you talking about?"
"There was a student you are fond of. What was his name...? Arthur... Yes, Arthur Pendragon. Yes, I'm sure fate will lead him to his untimely death soon enough."
Azrael's nether energy leaks into the room, and like a poisonous gas suffocates Amanda. "What have you done?"
"Me..." she says, coughing. "I've done nothing... Professor Azrael, tell me. Do you think I was the only traitor in your class of misfits?"
Azrael remembers Arthur's plan to go into the outer city with Alora and his eyes widen. "No..."
"Yes," she says, smiling. "For dinner, I believe Arthur's head will be served on a silver platter. Look forward to—"
Azrael runs out of the room, ignoring Amanda's last words. Marchioness Atalante watches him run, then turns to Amanda, "You should say your final prayers, Amanda Vlad. I think it unwise to upset the death god."
"The death god? That seat has long since been vacant. And humans will soon find out why death is so important."