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Chapter 4

She used the time of Azamirs absence to change and opted for the dark green, long robe. It fitted her body perfectly and reached down to the floor. The sleeves were wide at the bottom and reminded her of a dress from the Middle Ages. At least that's how she had always imagined the clothes there. It left her shoulders bare and Kyla tied her hair in a ponytail with the strip of fabric meant to be a belt. One just had to improvise she said to herself. She was just closing the closet doors again when Azamir entered her room. He stopped at the door and looked at his mistress. Kyla saw the look he gave her and grinned slightly. "Apparently it suits me?" she asked gently.

"Mistress beautiful. So beautiful.” Azamir confessed in awe.

Kyla walked towards him and crouched down in front of him. "Thanks." Kyla smiled at him.

Then she rose and held out her hand. Hesitantly, he placed his in hers.

"And now it's time for you to show me around a bit." Azamir looked scared. Kyla suspected the reason and explained: "Devon didn't tell me to not walk around here. And I'm sure he won't mind if you show me his house.” She didn't have to tell him that she was looking for a way to escape, he could read it in her mind. He nodded and together they left the room.

Azamir led them down the corridor that seemed to have no end. It seemed dark and cold. No objects enlivened this room and probably others did as well, Kyla thought. In front of a door the same size as her own, Azamir suddenly stopped. He pointed his finger at it, "Masters."

It took Kyla a moment to regain her composure, but then she nodded to him. She took a closer look at the door.

"What are those strange symbols on it?", her fingertips carefully touched the wood. It seemed alive.

Azamir pulled her away with a jerk. "No! Don't!"

"Why not?"

"Door evil. If touched without being asked, they will kill you. Door protects Master!”

Kyla looked at him in astonishment. A living door? Her eyes went back to the wood. Azamir pulled her further. This hallway seemed eternal. He seemed to ignore many of the doors, but Kyla suspected he wasn't exactly sure what was behind them. Eventually they came to an archway that led to a larger hall. Kyla stopped and looked around the room. Here were at least a few items. A large table surrounded by countless chairs with strange decorations on the backrests.

"Can I go in here?" she asked Azamir.

He nodded at her, "Master's dining room."

All Kyla could think was 'wow'. The walls gleamed in a gold-like tone, the floor seemed to have been polished several times because she was reflected in it. Now she entered it after all and slowly turned once around herself. On the wall, which framed the door arch, there were countless weapons. Crossing swords, axes and spears. All sorts of weapons were on display, and each one still bore the marks of the battle. Dried blood.

Kyla watched her in fascination and winced slightly when Azamir's hand slipped into hers.

"Weapons of dead enemies. Collect masters.”

Kyla looked at the little one and saw that his gaze was focused on a single weapon. It had a wooden hilt, but the blade flashed as if trying to draw the viewer in.

"Whose weapon was that?" She pointed at the weapon Azamir looked before.

The little one looked down dejectedly. "Father's."

Kyla squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Why did he kill him?" she asked.

"Because Father don't serve, Master." Kyla only shook her head slightly at that reason.

"Let's go further, Azamir."

They left the hall and re-entered the corridor, which forked a little further. Azamir pointed to the right.

"Never go there. Master strictly forbidden if want to go on living.”

Kyla nodded at him, but secretly wondered what that was all about. So they turned left and a short time later they were standing in front of a long staircase. The steps were covered with red velvet that resembled fresh blood. She enjoyed the sight for a moment, it reminded her of a castle she once saw on TV. It still felt like a dream she could wake up from. But the feeling that Azamir's hand triggered in hers taught her otherwise. Slowly they went down the steps and when they arrived at the bottom, a door suddenly appeared in the wall of windows. Kyla blinked. A hidden door? That wasn't there before... Azamir followed her confused gaze.

"Door for yard."

"What do you mean, yard?"

"Door for outside."

Kyla's eyes lit up. It was the exit. They walked toward it, still holding Azamir's hand, but as her hand slipped around the hilt, Devon's voice came from behind her.

"I would not do that. If you go out, you're going to die.”

Kyla turned to him.

"What do you want?"

"Warn you."

"Oh, how gracious the good sir is."

Devon stood in the middle of the stairs and looked at her steadily. His eyes seemed to pierce her, didn't leave her for a second, followed and observed her every movement.

"Well, I guess I could live with that." Kyla let go of Azamir's hand and turned and opened the door.

The smell of dead flesh filled her nostrils yet she took a step forward. Devon was suddenly beside her, slamming the door in her face with such force that the walls seemed to vibrate.

"Don't you dare disobey my orders," he growled.

Kyla gave him a small smile. "You didn't order me, you just warned me. You should be taking a rhetoric class…”

Devon's eyes burned red, his hand reached out and wrapped itself around her neck with firm pressure.

Kyla smiled. "Come on, squeeze it. Release me from being a human. It's a thousand times better than your company, BASTARD!”

Devon released her immediately, his breathing heavy and occupied. It took all his self-control not to kill her outright. Suddenly it was his turn to smile. His gaze wandered to Azamir and finally back to Kyla. If she was human, she certainly had something of a conscience. He leaned forward slightly and whispered, "Do as I tell you, or Azamir will die before your eyes."

Kyla's eyes widened, "You wouldn't dare..."

His lips almost touched her ear, "Don't underestimate me."

Before Kyla could react, he was gone. She looked around for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Then her eyes fell on Azamir.

"If Mistress wishes, Azamir die too."

Tears welled up in Kyla's eyes and she shook her head sadly.

"No Azamir. A life is too precious to be used just like that.” She squatted down next to him and on an equal footing with him she continued: “When you die, then for your own goals, for your needs and desires. Not for someone else's. Your father did too. You can be very proud of him.”

His black eyes met Kyla's. All Azamir managed was a simple nod. He wouldn't die for his mistress because he had to, he would because he wanted to. She was the first being who treated him well. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the right.

"Azamir keep showing house." He explained and Kyla followed.

She got to see many more rooms. Kitchen, a library, even if she wondered what Devon needed it for, and finally a huge hall. Lined with windows that let in warm light, the room captivated her. He doesn't exude anything demonic, Kyla realized with surprise.

"What is this room?" she asked curiously.

"Room for celebration."

Kyla was amazed. "You celebrate?"

"When master great victory, he celebrates, when master make deals, he guests here."

"Ah~!" Kyla understood. Her eyes traveled to the ceiling and she recognized herself. "Mirrors..." she said to herself, slowly turning around.

No, there was nothing malicious about this room. So many details caught her eye, not at least the couch, which invited one to relax. She slowly walked towards it and let her fingertips run over the light-colored leather. A tingling ran through her body and images appeared in her mind's eye. Two people who loved each other here. Over and over again. It took Kyla a moment to get herself back together. Now she knew the reason why there was no evil here. This room was filled with the deep affection of two lovers. Kyla collapsed.

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