Elara hurried home under the cloak of night, her mind buzzing with the tension of her meeting with the High Priestess. Once she was safely inside, she locked the door and pulled the heavy curtains shut, her heart still racing from the encounter.
She couldn't afford to waste any time. The Order's suspicion was growing, and if they acted before she was ready, her chances of survival would vanish.
In the quiet of her room, she knelt beside her bed and took out the small parchment that Lucian had given her weeks ago. On it was the spell he'd taught her—an incantation to summon him from wherever he was, binding him temporarily to her side.
She closed her eyes, murmuring the words softly, the air around her shifting as the spell took hold.
A moment later, the shadows in the corner of the room stirred, dark energies weaving together until they formed into Lucian's tall figure. His sharp eyes gleamed with interest as he stepped into the dim light, his black cloak flowing around him like smoke.
"You summoned me," he said, his voice low and smooth, laced with curiosity. "What's troubling you, Elara?"
Elara stood, her expression hardened with determination. "The Order is onto me," she said, pacing the room in agitation. "Mother Aveline summoned me personally tonight. She was playing innocent, but I could feel it. They're suspicious."
Lucian watched her with an amused glint in his eye, his lips curling into a half-smile. "And what do you plan to do about it?"
Elara stopped pacing, turning to face him with a determined gleam in her eyes. "I want to destroy them. The Order, the temple... all of it."
Lucian's smile widened. "Finally, you're thinking like a true disciple of vengeance. But tell me, how do you propose we start? What's your plan?"
Elara took a deep breath, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "My first target... is the sources of their power— the faithful. If I can plant doubt in their minds, make them question The Order, it will weaken their influence. I want to start with them."
Lucian raised an eyebrow, his amusement deepening. "You want to manipulate the faithful? Very subtle. But are you sure you're ready to influence their minds?"
Elara met his gaze without hesitation. "I am. They trust me. I've been one of them for years. They'll never suspect it's me."
Lucian studied her for a long moment, the darkness in his eyes swirling with intrigue. "Very well. If you're so determined, then I'll guide you. But be careful, Elara. You may control their thoughts now, but doubt can be a dangerous thing to wield. It can turn against you."
"I know," she said quietly, her resolve unshaken. "But it's the only way."
Lucian smiled again, his expression dark and approving. "Then let's begin."
The air in the small cottage felt thick with anticipation as Lucian summoned the scroll titled "Mind Manipulation" into his hand, its blackened parchment radiating a strange energy. The elegant, ancient script seemed to pulse as if alive, drawing Elara's eyes to it.
Lucian glanced at Elara, his sharp gaze softening only a fraction. "This technique will require more than a flicker of willpower, Elara. Mind Manipulation is not about brute force, but subtlety. You must learn how to bend thoughts without breaking them."
He unfurled the scroll, the symbols within glowing faintly, as if only revealing themselves to those worthy of wielding such dark arts. He pointed to the first sigil, an intricate mark shaped like a spiral.
"This is the foundation," Lucian began. "Your mind must be like this spiral—constant, flowing, but never too forceful. You will be able to influence thoughts, but if you're too obvious, the target's mind will resist."
Elara nodded eagerly, her heart pounding in anticipation. "How do I control it?"
Lucian smirked slightly, his cold amusement flashing in his eyes. "You don't. You guide it. The first step is feeling your target's mind. You will tap into their inner thoughts like a stream and gently nudge them where you want them to go."
He motioned for her to sit across from him, closing the scroll for now. "Let's begin with the basics. First, calm your mind."
---
Lucian's voice softened, becoming a low hum, like a hypnotic melody. "Focus on your breath. Silence your own thoughts, and listen to the energy around you. Imagine reaching out, not with your hands, but with your consciousness. You're not trying to take control, you're simply trying to feel."
Elara closed her eyes, her breaths slow and deep as she allowed her awareness to expand. At first, all she sensed was the chilly air of the room, the faint sound of Lucian's breathing.
"Do you feel it?" he asked.
"Barely... it's like trying to catch smoke," she admitted, her brow furrowing.
"Good," Lucian replied, his tone filled with patience. "Now, imagine that smoke is not something to be caught. Instead, it is something you become part of. Relax your grip on control. Let it flow through you."
Slowly, Elara's tension eased, and she felt it—a faint current in the atmosphere, subtle but present. It was like a heartbeat, barely noticeable but constant. She opened her eyes, wide with excitement. "I feel it!"
Lucian's smirk widened. "Then let's move on."
He flicked his wrist, causing a small orb of light to appear in the air between them. "Now that you can sense it, let's test your ability to influence."
Lucian gestured to the orb, his eyes gleaming with intent. "Imagine this light is someone's mind. Your task is to make it flicker, just for a moment, using nothing but the force of your will."
Elara stared at the orb, her mind honing in on its soft glow. She focused all her concentration on that faint pulse she had sensed earlier, feeling it merge with the light. She inhaled deeply and pushed gently with her thoughts.
For a moment, the light wavered.
"I did it!" she exclaimed.
Lucian's expression was unreadable as he nodded. "That was a minor influence. The real challenge begins now."
He reopened the scroll, pointing to a more complex sigil, intertwined with lines like a web. "This is the next part of the process. You need to learn how to plant a suggestion, subtle and untraceable, in the mind of a target."
---
Once Elara had absorbed the intricacies of the sigils and practiced within the confines of the cottage, Lucian decided it was time for her first real test. That evening, the two of them slipped out of the small dwelling, moving through the streets of the town unnoticed. The dark arts gave them a natural cloak against ordinary eyes.
The moon hung high, casting silver beams over the quiet streets. Elara's pulse quickened as they neared the market square. Lucian led her to a shadowed corner where they could observe a lone merchant closing his stall for the night.
"He's your target," Lucian whispered, his breath warm against her ear. "Make him think he's left something important behind—nothing too drastic, but enough for him to feel compelled to double-check."
Elara nodded, her heart racing with nervous energy. She closed her eyes, feeling for the merchant's mind as she had practiced. The pulse of his thoughts was faint but there. She focused, remembering the spiral, the flow of thoughts she needed to guide. Not control... just guide...
The merchant hesitated as he packed the last of his goods. His movements slowed, and a faint crease appeared between his brows, as if some stray thought had just entered his mind.
"I... I forgot something," the merchant mumbled, turning back to the stall and rummaging through his wares.
Elara's eyes widened in triumph. "It worked!"
Lucian chuckled softly. "Not bad for your first attempt. Though, I expected nothing less."
Elara beamed with pride, her nervousness replaced by a thrilling rush of power. She had done it—she had wielded the art of Mind Manipulation. For the first time, she felt the full potential of the dark arts flowing through her.
"You were right," she said, her voice filled with awe. "This... this is incredible."
Lucian's smirk returned, though something in his eyes seemed almost... distant. "Indeed. But remember, Elara—this is only the beginning. The minds of men are fragile things. Bend them too much, and they will break. Bend them too little, and you'll lose your grip."
"Right," she nodded, but the rush of her success still hummed in her veins.
As they turned to leave, Lucian's voice, low and almost teasing, cut through the night. "I wonder, though—how long will it take for you to use that on me?"
Elara laughed, half-joking. "I wouldn't dare. I wouldn't want to bruise your ego."
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "If you ever manage to, it'll be because I allowed it."
They both shared a look, the tension momentarily lifted by the playful banter, before Lucian's eyes grew serious once more. "Enjoy your success, Elara. But remember, the Divine Order won't stay idle for long."
Elara's smile faltered, the weight of his words sinking in. "I'll be ready."
As they disappeared into the night, Lucian couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride watching his student blossom. But beneath that pride was something deeper, a connection forged not only by the pact but by the dark arts they now shared.