Vencian left Abnet's quarters with the staff bruises still smarting under his shirt. The air outside was cool, his breath puffing faint in the dim light of the corridor. He had gained what he wanted.
Not from Amadeus, but from the man who can give him what he wanted… Or at least the most closest he could get. It was strange comfort, the kind that did not feel like victory, only like another debt added to his account.
Walking back through the mansion, his thoughts replayed the session.
Quenya slipped into view beside him, her voice quiet. "So you really went through with it. That blade… it nearly broke you last time."
Her words reminded him of what happened last time when he tried to summon that strange weapon once again. It was after he got to know about the pact. Summoning was not hard, it appears on his will. Though but the problem came after he summoned it. In less than ten seconds the colors from his vision depleted.
