Four years later, in the halls of the Château de L’Enfer…

Quickly, and decisively, Elena made her way past the maids and servants, towards her private study. She did not like staying out of it for too long, for it meant precious time away from what was important, waiting for her behind closed doors, and beyond prying eyes. Much to her annoyance, the servants and the guards were always looking at her funny, these days. At least, of those not loyal to her, yet.

“Elena.”

Elena stopped dead in her tracks, and turned around. The servants had been dismissed from their posts. In their place, Grinnaux stood across the hallway she had just passed through. The look on his face as he slouched against the wall, irked her. Now that he was the Count of Eldia, and she, the Countess, he had become so annoying, and so unempathetic.

“Purity Forest was sacked,” Grinnaux stated. “The Crown of Life, stolen from the Keeper of the Forest.”

“Yeah. Sucks to be ‘em.”

“You’d know something about that, wouldn’t ya?”

Elena turned around, and looked her brother in the eye.

“I don’t appreciate your accusation.”

“I’ve got nothing so far,” Grinnaux answered, brusquely. “But the Order of Eternal Light is investigating as we speak. The Keeper says it was you.”

“Right.”

Once more, Elena continued towards her room.

“I’m going into your study,” Grinnaux stated, as he took a step forward. “I’d like to have a look…”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking for permission.”

Upon hearing this, Elena turned on her heel and brandished her crimson sigil towards her brother, tears of blood trickling down her eyes as white hot flames formed upon her hand. In response, Grinnaux revealed his sigil as well, crackling white and blue with lightning.

“Pretty clear you’re hiding something, eh?”

“I simply value my privacy, brother.”

Together, seething and awaiting release from the sigils of their creators, the fire and lightning singed the air to a burning pitch. Eventually, with a frown as blood trickled down his cheek, Grinnaux lowered his hand and cupped his sigil, and Elena followed suit.

“You’ve changed, Elena.”

“Have I?” Elena asked rhetorically with a smirk, blinking the blood out of her crimson eyes as she opened the door leading into her study. “So have you, brother. Womanising, drinking, just like our father…”

Grinnaux frowned and crossed his arms.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you, of all people.”

“Believe whatever you please,” Elena stated, before turning to leave. “I really must be going. Have to finalise the preparations for your birthday party, remember?”

“Elena…”

“I’ll talk to ya later.”

“Surrender yourself into my custody before the Order comes knocking,” Grinnaux said. “Better that you end up with me, than with them.”

Elena slammed the door shut in his face.

Later, in the study of the Countess de L’Enfer…

“You look a little rattled, my little Countess…”

Sabik, the guardian of the Grimoire, sat lazily upon Elena’s bed placed close by to the many arcane apparatus and tome-filled bookshelves of the study, and leered at her with eyes stained completely black. The petite servant girl whose body and voice it had claimed as its messenger and physical vessel, writhed with black shadows swirling in and out of her mouth and elvish ears, inhaling and exhaling darkness with every breath taken and every word spoken.

“It was him again, was it not? Yet again, he dares to challenge you…”

“Shut up.”

“The people love him, more than they would ever care about you. They see the Countess as little more than a regent to the Count, a lesser servant dealing with the mundane. He is the hero, but what are you?”

“Shut up!”

Elena turned away from the bed, and back towards her desk and her life’s work. Four years had passed since that fateful day in the goblin nest with the altar of Amon, four years of sleepless nights of research and preparation as she pried open the Grimoire’s secrets, written in Enochian, one chapter at a time. The power to raise the dead, the power to control the dead, and the means to invoke the forces of rot and decay upon the living, had become hers to command. Now, only one more chapter remained – the ritual to become a Lich.

“You should be angry. You are right to be angry,” Sabik whispered. “He would deny you what is rightfully yours, without question nor thought.”

For a moment, Elena seethed in silence as she considered Sabik’s words. Grinnaux was always out there before the people, taking in the smiles and praise for himself. She was, as much as she hated to admit it, second best.

“He’d do it. Yeah, he would…”

“Yes. But you are strong, and worthy of better. Above all, you deserve this …”

“You’ll help me, then?” Elena wondered out loud, without looking at Sabik. “With this final chapter, and my ascension.”

“Dark Goddess willing…” Sabik answered, its voice a sweet and tender whisper as it compelled the servant girl to stand up. “Your actions will change the world.”

Elena nodded. Quietly, as Sabik sauntered up to her, she clutched absentmindedly at the ruby necklace worn upon her neck that had been enchanted into a phylactery to hold her soul in asylum. It bristled coldly against her fingers, now a symbol of her soul laid bare before the Dark Goddess, when nothing else, however valuable or rare or magical, had sufficed. Even if a part of wondered why. She looked quietly at the purple contents of the elixir brewed and distilled from the very essence of the Crown of Life itself held dear by Sophia herself, corrupted with poison and necromantic magics to allow the separation of body and soul from one another, like severing a thread to be stitched anew.

These preparations, as outlined in the penultimate chapter of the Grimoire, were complete. By Amon’s blessing and favour, she would become a Lich – the ultimate heritor of the Dark Goddess’s sorcerous might, ascendant forevermore in her hierarchy of undead creatures. Bloodless, and beyond the cycle of life and death held so dear in this world of Sophia’s creation. To become the best, and nothing else.

Now, for this, all that remained was but a single task. One single act, to darken the world.

“Those loyal to you, prepare their weapons and ready their spells,” Sabik added gently, as it compelled the servant girl in its possession to knead Elena’s shoulders with her fingers. “They do this, for you, and in your name.”

“Yes, they do…”

“It is what you deserve. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Yes…”

“Then you know, what must be done…”

“I do,” Elena stated coldly as she clutched at her ruby necklace, once more. “I will.”