Chapter 6 DARK SMILES

The fiendish wizard squatted before the seer once again. "At last the truth came to me loud and clear, and I'm elated at my future victory," he breathed smilingly. "I shall depose every ruler on this island. Alack, all the renowned men will turn weaklings and wretches."

"Never will your utterances make me fall dispirited," Zeranah hissed, "for even Arzalon will in vain do as you intend."

"Zeranah, you're a good seer, and yet you readily doubt your foresight even now," Lord Golrus smiled. "Surely, there are more gold ingots for you. Return with me to Munin and I shall enrich you beyond your imagination."

"Damn your ill-gotten gold," Zeranah hissed. "Consider that the bargain between us is already done. I shall no longer be at your disposal."

Lord Golrus shrugged, then flashed Zeranah a grin. "Just rethink-that time will surely come," he said. "You shall beg to be at my disposal. Your dreams of fully becoming one amongst the Roses of Ordess will be a waste."

"It's a responsibility, not a dream," Zeranah hissed.

"Whatever you may call it," said Lord Golrus. "You're just too blind to notice that you still have a long way to go along your path to becoming a priestess."

Lord Golrus arose slowly. He had heard the prophecy pertaining to the holocausts he could yet set up. It was time for him to return to his dwelling in Munin, a Zedzkan megalopolis that was situated under the shadow of the east of the Vekorhst Mountains.

Over his extreme elation, he had felt heartily free to totally pour out his towering greed and spite as if his thoughts, which were as fell as the fount of depravity, had turned an ocular entity, whereupon Zeranah had perceived his purpose but knew nought about his black strategies.

His elan was a great glory to the mighty spirits of darkness, and anyway he could remain unrelenting on course to worsen his vicious pathways that had without fail been success stories. His psyche was a foolproof machine that, e'en before the macabre prognostication, was manned by the powers of covetousness.

Vainly would any moralist, hoaxer or spirit changer be able to instil scrupulousness in Lord Golrus apropos Lord Golrus' line of reasoning.

It was with a strut that the fiend left the pentagram and made towards the passage, making Zeranah deeply and seriously regret that she had allowed him to spring a trap. There was no doubt that he was in foolhardiness' thrall, and he was also in thrall to the adamantine lust for an imperial reign.

More often than not, and for him to be able to keep up his sorcery, he stopped not himself from being devoured by bloodlust and e'en had pathways to get more destructive magic powers, for he was craving to be a supremely powerful malefactor.

Zeranah seemed curious about what manner of black magic could stand ironclad, overly malignant and e'en pernicious so that a man was liable to take Agron in its entirety.

As she was one of the most valorous forces of good, lethal vicissitudes were hankering to cross swords with her in that Lord Golrus was not a man who, at this point, could be talked into peace, and no one had been able to pour oil on troubled water over the everlasting strife betwixt Rezos and Arzalon.

However her presentiment of an oncoming fatal onslaught was welling up, she decided not to go on the offensive. She had nae idea about the favourable conditions that would remain unaltered over the advantages that could yet be obtained by the forces of good, including herself, who could ward off sorcery and other attacks.

She was craving to talk, but her rosy lips quirked as if something might well be left unsaid, then her lips quivered awhile as if she was murmuring against Lord Golrus' doings. She was angered by the thought that a passionless occultist was likely to rule the island whilst she was still bouncy. The sorcerer, still strutting, had well-nigh got to the passage.

"Now you want to leave," said Zeranah.

Lord Golrus halted forthwith and then gave a grin. "What is it now?" he asked. "Do you now wish to come with me?"

"All these years, you never mentioned that you're a sorcerer," Zeranah flared. "It was not expected of me to deal with you as I have done. You're not the man I once knew. I was not supposed to help you foresee anything."

"But you have," said Lord Golrus. He turned around just then and looked at Zeranah, making his head bend over his right shoulder, grimacing as if he was just about to shed tears. "Now I feel very sorry for you. Perhaps you've never made a serious blunder."

A minatory light appeared in Zeranah's eyes at once. Zeranah arose so the skirts of her maxi flowed down over her sandalled feet. She was a statuesque six-footer. Her frame was shapely, and she was a vision of sultriness.

A simper appeared on Lord Golrus' face, maybe trying to make Zeranah's spleen boil up as Lord Golrus had riled Zeranah a short while ago, hereupon Lord Golrus gladly rendered the cast to his visage level. The blood of the maiden was possibly streaking about in her blood vessels and her heart was thudding with bile and anxiety.

There in the basement, Zeranah was bursting to extinguish the magus' hope of reigning over Agron, even though such goal of hers would only be possible by putting Lord Golrus to the grave. The sorcerer had dangerous advantages.

He possessed some screamingly black qualities which, should they be callously deployed by him, could e'en make his victim wish that every living being had got two or more earthly lives. There was black mojo in his voice. He was greatly possessed of the black arts and atrocious skill set. Here a fight might start up.

"I know it now," Zeranah rasped, casting Lord Golrus a glower. "I know what you're up to."