Role

Chapter 6

They say you never forget your first. To Solraen Do'tlar, the very
memory of his sustains him.

He was young, but his noble birth and superior mind made him one of
the most promising prospects of the phoenix children, so much so the
Elders allowed his flamboyant and utterly bizarre behaviour. In fact,
they encouraged it, knowing it proved unsettling for those that would
suffer at the macabre touch of his hand. Solraen had a very specific
gift and purpose, serving as a torturer and extractor of information
that would assist the House Do'tlar in their eventual rise from the
cavernous realms.

Then they bought her before him, a gorgeous elf, covered in her own
blood as she thrashed wildly against the iron chains that restrained
her. How primitively uncreative he thought as he moved closer to the
pitiful creature, brushing her burnished hair from her face.

It was all too seductive, part of his act. He would now play the role
of the saviour.

"Remove these foul things from our guest, I am sure she would like to
have a civil conversation with us."

She merely snorted at him, her face contorting with disgust while she
uttered some prayer to the profane lords of the Light, a blazing aura
of light surrounding her as it nourished her wound with a rejuvenating
caress.

Solraen watched in a profound awe as the gorgeous thing writhed before
him on the adamantite slab, a twisted idea forming from an ethereal
cloud of darkness in his mind. What followed could only be described
as macabre.

He experimented on her, taking her to the brink of death like a lover
in an intimate encounter and watched intently, waiting for her deity
to flare to life and cleanse her defiled flesh. Over and over, until a
quivering mess of a creature lay twisted and sprawled out before him.

He gazed into her shattered eyes and peered into the depths of her once
proud but now tormented spirit as she raised her chin in defiance. With
a remaining effort, she croaked in a hoarse whisper "Death will be my
solace from you, demon-spawn." She fell limp upon the slab as her last
breath escaped, attempting to free her soul from the torment she endured.

And then Solraen reached out a delicate hand, surrounding himself with
his own ethereal darkness as he caressed the flesh of the fallen elf in
scouring aura of light, tethering her soul once again to the living.

"Death is no escape from me, silly thing, your Knowledge will be mine."

"Now... Speak, my pretty pet, and I will release you."