The Dragon Ascendant

Shadows And Power Plays

CHAPTER 8: SHADOWS AND POWER PLAYS

The cold stone halls of the manor were illuminated by the flickering light of dark magic as Lady Morgana made her entrance, cape billowing behind her. In the air hung the heavy atmosphere of forbidden spells and age-old rituals. Among the assembly of dark magicians, one would be hard-pressed to find even a whisper of conversation, and for good reason, when Lady Morgana was around, attention was mandatory.

Giovanni, the head of the dark magicians, stood at the center of the room and watched her with narrowed eyes. He'd never cared for Morgana's theatrical style, but she and his group had been sharing the same space for quite some time now, and their interaction had been mutually beneficial.

"Is it you again, Morgana?" Giovanni asked, his voice thick with distaste. "I thought the last chat we had sufficed for all future meetings."

Morgana grinned, though her eyes didn't quite share in the humor. "You, as always, do protest too much, Giovanni. I come to you now over matters of much greater import than your childlike grievances. Have you got your little sneers and glares out of the way now? I won't be side-tracked any further by you."

Giovanni gave a mock bow, then waved his hand at her dismissively. "Very well. As you wish. But you might be best served by not telling me what to do."

Morgana resumed her speech, anyway, without really looking back at him.

"Convenience is not what I would call this situation," Giovanni said, stepping closer and lowering his voice to a growl. "I am not on your side, Morgana. We are simply using each other. And do not mistake that for convenience and loyalty because it is most definitely not."

Giacomo had never seen a woman smile as wide as Morgana did at that moment. "Of course," she said, "it couldn't be more clear." Then she glanced at the door and said, in a voice that was scarcely above a whisper, "It's time. You can go ahead now." And she walked toward the exit. Giovanni tried to concentrate on what she would do next, all the while his eyes dark with suspicion.

Giovanni chuckled, his laughter echoing in the stone corridor. He had long ago knitted himself into the dark worlds of Hermann and Meinhart and their Ethos of Evil. He was, of course, doing the bidding of Morgana, the sweet, sly witch who had sent him on this mission. She had promised him the power of the Old Ones. But Giovanni couldn't help but feel that he might instead be heading toward his own doom. What was it they had said? "Unde malum, mala." Or something like that. "Where evil is, there is evil." And wouldn't this be a prime moment for someone to practice their dark arts?

**Later at Elthorn Manor**

Lucan had returned not just from the Conquest but from it as a conqueror, emanating a victorious aura to mask a not-so-glorious secret he held close to his chest. After S-rank status, he truly thought, whatever could come next would expand the sweet halo of accolades around his head. But with Lady Morgana standing there, right in front of him, he absorbed every syllable of the sweet praise she was serving up for him.

"Your rise to power is all but certain. And no challenge will stand in your way."

His only response was a smirk, but that did a good job of saying all that needed to be said.

With malicious intent, Morgana smiled and said, "Indeed, Lucan, greatness is in store for you. And when you take control, the Elthorn Clan will strike terror into the hearts of your enemies. No one will be able to match your strength."

At that moment, Raiden was standing in the shadows, trying to make sense of what he had just thrust himself into. His heart raced as he took in the first-known words of their conversation. Lucan was being promised a future that was *not* to Raiden's benefit, that was for sure. But what did he and Morgana hope to accomplish by lessening Raiden's standing, painting him as weak and undisciplined? Was this the first step toward throwing him out of the clan altogether?

Raiden advanced, making clear he was there; the sort of thing, Angela thought, that in a mortal would be being persuasive, or a little bit threatening, but which was only a sign of Raiden’s clumsiness.

"Is this how you plan to rule the clan? By pushing your half-brother’s strength around?" Raiden asked.

Lucan glared. "You again? I thought you wouldn’t show your face around here after the way you got humbled at the Conquest."

"Humbled?" Raiden snorted, unimpressed. "Hardly. You're the one talking big, Lucan. You're hardly a picture of power, and the way you throw your weight around just shows how weak you are."

Lucan stared in disbelief, mouth slightly agape. Then he sneered.

The smirk that Raiden wore grew colder by the moment. "Perhaps," he said. "But we'll see how long you're able to maintain that kind of strength."

With that, Lucan took a step toward him, tensing his magnificent muscles. "Careful, Raiden. If we meet again, there's no question that I will win. I won't be as merciful next time."

But Raiden was already leaving, his mind elsewhere. He had no fear of Lucan, yes, the guy was strong, but Raiden was certain that Lucan's power wouldn't last. If he was going to confront Lucan and come out alive, he needed something more. Something that would give him the edge he clearly lacked at the moment.

**That Night**

Following a fruitless day of interrogation, there was nothing else for Raiden to do but direct his energy inward toward a recovery that hadn't yet begun. In his room, he sat cross-legged on the floor, poring over an ancient text he'd discovered in the manor's library. The brittle pages had threatened to disintegrate under the pressure of his fingertips as he'd rifled through them. That had poured inside him a death sentence welcome he had yet to encounter since standing before the downright banal Council of Light. And now, death, an arena in which the living only have power over what remains. So, so, selfish. Yet what better time to be?

Resolute, Raiden shut the book and rose. He'd have to leave the mansion and seek this artifact alone. It was undoubtedly a risk, but he saw no other option. If he meant to topple Lucan and truly unravel Morgana's schemes, he had to be much, much stronger.

And now, at the Dark Magicians' Manor, Giovanni eyed the recruits in his dimly lit hall. The five he had sent forth to scout had returned, their faces safely hidden amid dark hoods. Their mission was just starting, and Giovanni's glee over it was almost palpable.

"Ah, Morgana," he breathed, his voice thick with malice. "You really think you're in charge? You really think you're in control? You've forgotten with whom you're dealing.”