"Who are you?"

Malvorn's words were sharp as diamonds and lined with annoyance.

With her mind still numb from the pain of watching her mother die, Senya didn't care. She felt broken, like the rage had consumed her from the inside and then left a hollow shell behind, devoid of all emotions.

"I asked you a question," the leader of the Fateless barked.

Next to Senya, the soldiers who had brought her in started to shift nervously. Their leader, the man who had stabbed Alva, took a step forward and cleared his throat.

"My Lord, this is the thief you sent us to capture. Nyu her name, if I recall correctly."

Malvorn's left eye started twitching, the tiny muscles around it going into spasm.

"This is not her," he rasped.

Then, facing Senya, he repeated his initial question.

"I will ask you one last time," he snarled, his voice rumbling like a cave-in. "Who — are — you?" He pointed a trembling finger at her.

"My name is Senya. I'm Nyu's sister."

She said the words without emotion, barely paying attention to them as she spoke. She didn't care what Malvorn would do to her — there wasn't much she still cared about.

Malvorn considered her for a moment.

"Is that so?" he finally asked, not expecting a response. "Now, that is an … interesting … development."

He chuckled menacingly, but Senya didn't even bother to look at their mighty ruler. Instead, she just stared at the marble floor, as if her gaze was too heavy to lift.

"Tell me," Malvorn continued, now with a bittersweet voice, "where is your sister?"

Finally, Senya lifted her head, glaring at Malvorn with all the rage she could muster.

"Why don't you tell me? Surely, you know better than I."

Malvorn smiled at her.

"You have the same spirit, I can —"

"We are nothing alike," it burst out of Senya before Malvorn could even finish his sentence. And there it was again, the anger, the rage. It flooded her body, pulsating in her veins with a flaming heat that made her want to peel off her skin. Her vision went blurry, tinted and distorted by fiery sparks that flickered like embers in the dark.

Malvorn studied her for a moment, ignoring her transgression.

"My, my," he said mockingly, "such fire."

Then, his voice got more sinister. "Very interesting indeed. Tell me —" Malvorn began, but Senya shut him down once more.

"I'm not telling you anything!"

She could feel her fingernails draw blood in her palms.

"You had my mother murdered, you monster."

Malvorn studied her for a moment, then turned his gaze to the leaders of the soldiers who had brought her to the palace.

"You killed her mother?" he asked, almost emotionless.

His pale face was hard to read, but Senya could tell he was displeased.

"My Lord?" the soldier responded in confusion, caught off guard by the sudden involvement in this discussion.

"Am I not speaking clearly?" Malvorn snarled, slowly moving towards the man.

His purple gown gracefully slid over the marble floor, his long hair of silver and gray resting loosely on his wide shoulders.

"My Lord," the man stammered, "I was just executing your orders."

"Were you now?" Malvorn rasped, coming to a halt right in front of the soldier.

Senya realized how tall he was, practically towering over the man who killed her mother — who was now cowering in front of his leader, with all the authority from earlier blown to the wind.

"I —" the man began, but his words ended in a painful gurgle when Malvorn grabbed his throat with one of his muscular hands and lifted the man a few centimeters into the air.

"What's that?" the leader of the Fateless whispered, turning his ear to the wide-open mouth of his victim. The retching grew louder, accompanied by helpless flailing of useless limbs.

Malvorn exhaled slowly. "That's what I thought."

And with that, he let go off the soldier, who hit the ground with a loud grunt. He rolled over, coughing and spitting onto the neat floor of the throne room. "We don't kill our own without reason," Malvorn said dryly and turned around.

As he walked back towards his throne, the soldier struggled to get back on his feet, his face red with bloodshot eyes. Senya stared at him with grim satisfaction, letting the sweet taste of vengeance linger in her mouth. But it wasn't enough, she thought.

"I … I'm sorry," he said with a hoarse voice, grabbing his throat with both hands as if to check it was still intact.

"I don't care," Malvorn barked. "Save the killing for our enemies. If you fail again, your death will be next — and that will be justified. You understand?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Now get out of my sight." He gestured with his hand, and the man did as he was told.

"All of you," Malvorn snapped at the remaining soldiers, and the room emptied within a few seconds.

Suddenly, it was only the two of them, facing each other in the center of the large throne room. Senya wanted to charge at the man in front of her, to kill him slowly with her own hands — but she knew any attempt at open confrontation was futile. She was no match for him, she was no fighter. But maybe if she played her cards right, an opportunity would present itself.

"Your mother was not supposed to die," Malvorn finally said.

It wasn't an apology, just a factual statement.

"These soldiers were only supposed to search for a thief, you see? And when it comes to thievery, your sister is high on the list of potential candidates."

He interlaced his thick fingers in front of his hip.

"It is not my intention to kill other Fateless — we truly suffered enough already. It is the Fateweavers we have to exterminate, and for that we can't afford internal quarrel."

A bitter taste filled Senya's mouth. She was not going to fall for this honey trap, especially not after experiencing Malvorn's injustice for most of her life.

"It seems to me," Senya hissed through gritted teeth, "the poor suffer every day under your rule. You already killed hundreds by means of starvation and sickness."

Malvorn's face petrified.

"You have no idea what it means to rule an entire civilization in this dark hole, child. Do you think it's easy? To keep everyone content in such undignified conditions?"

"The worst conditions are of your own making," Senya shot back, fueled by anger and disregard for her own safety.

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Malvorn examined her with piercing eyes. When he spoke again, his words were cold and hard.

"You have spirit, I'll give you that. But you are weak."

Whatever Senya had expected him to say, it wasn't that. She looked at him in confusion, feeling insulted and indifferent at the same time.

"You are angry, and that gives you power — but only power of the mind, not of the body. You feel helpless, forgotten by the world, abandoned by your own sister. And that fuels your spirit, but your spirit alone."

What he said was true, but Senya didn't understand why he said it.

"If your sister is any indication," Malvorn continued with a sinister smile tugging at his lips, "there is great potential in you. Your sister and I don't see eye-to-eye, but she is strong, resourceful."

He paused and studied her. Senya could feel the anger bubble inside her like a thermal spring. All this talk about her sister was further coals onto her internal fire.

"What do you want from me?" she spat out, rattling the chains with her fists.

"I want to give you an opportunity. To channel your anger into something useful." He smiled and showed his sharp teeth. "I want to offer you … revenge."

Senya could feel a rush of heat.

"Are you serious?" she barked. "You killed my mother. If you want to offer me revenge, give me your head on a platter."

"I told you," Malvorn boomed with such force, Senya could almost feel the ground tremble. Rage distorted his features, but within a few seconds, he forced himself to assume a calm demeanor again.

"I told you, child," he said with false niceness, "I did not order your mother's death. But I very well could have after your sister's digressions. She is the one who put your lives in danger. And is that not how it's always been?" Malvorn glared at her with probing eyes, his chest moving under his heavy breath.

"That's none of your business," Senya said stubbornly.

"Oh, but it is, child. It is my business. Everything that happens in this godforsaken hole is my business."

Senya shook her head and looked at the floor in front of her.

"You're crazy," she rasped.

"And you are weak," he repeated. "But I can change that."

"What makes you think I would ever even consider your offer?"

"I know your anger — it's the same anger that burns within me. You feel like the world is being unjust to you, and there is someone you blame for it. You feel mistreated, like there is something you are owed but not given. Your mind can't help but wonder what life could be like — if only you were given the means you so desperately crave."

"Why would you even care what happens to me? Why don't you just kill me like my mother?"

Malvorn's neck muscle twitched visibly, but he forced himself to remain calm.

"Because there is something you have that I want."

Senya scoffed. "I highly doubt that."

Malvorn grimaced in an attempt to smile.

"You should start believing in your own worth — otherwise, no one will."

"You're a fortune-teller, too?" she scoffed.

Malvorn closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Fine. So what do I have that you want?" Senya asked and tried to cross her arms, but the chains started pulling at her wrists.

"Knowledge," Malvorn said slowly.

Senya couldn't help but chuckle.

"Knowledge of what? Of how to carry a dozen beer mugs at a time? Of how to scrub floors?"

Bitterness filled her words like an over-steeped tea.

"You think me a fool, child?" Malvorn hissed between gritted teeth.

She did, but that still didn't explain what the ruler of the Fateless wanted from her.

When Senya chose to remain silent, Malvorn inhaled like someone close to having a meltdown.

"Do you know that there are people among the Fateless who are planning to usurp me?"

Senya laughed wholeheartedly, ignoring the storm clouds that were brewing in Malvorn's deep eyes.

"Well, I can't blame them," she gasped.

"Tread carefully now. You think your life is forfeit, and your anger is making you careless, but there are still dimensions of pain you'd rather not want to experience — trust me."

Malvorn's voice was trembling with rage.

Brushing off his threat with a defiant shake of her head, Senya glared at him with heartfelt contempt.

"I guess it's that kind of talk that got your subjects to rally in the first place," she said coldly. "But to answer your question: I do not. Sure, I know of the occasional slur aimed at you and your rule, but nothing serious. Only drunks looking for someone to blame."

Malvorn mustered her for a long moment, his gaze piercing into her very soul.

"You are closer to my adversaries than you think," he finally said, crossing his hands in his sleeves.

Senya considered his words. Was he talking about Nyu? Her sister had never been one to care for politics — she didn't even care enough about her own family.

"If it's my sister you are talking about, I'm afraid you are painfully mistaken."

Malvorn smiled his sinister smile. "Am I?"

Senya didn't know how to react, so she just held Malvorn's gaze until he chose to elaborate.

"But you are right. It's not your sister I am after — only her acquaintances."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Senya asked with increasing frustration. She felt like being part of a game she didn't know the rules of, nor the objective.

"Your sister has been a most effective servant, but not exactly a loyal one. I didn't mind her transgressions, of course, since there was nothing to worry about. Now that we are nearing our invasion of the surface world, however, I can not allow division among our people. We have to stand as one if we want to defeat all that oppose us."

"I'm the last person to defend my sister, but I guarantee you she did not join any plot against you. I would've known." Her last words felt hollow.

Malvorn turned his head to the side, making the silver strands in his hair glisten under the chandeliers.

"I think we can agree," he said calmly, "that your sister is not led by deeper moral concerns. If anything, it was the prospect of double-dipping into the purses of two masters. She did as I told her, and she did well. But at the same time, she kept feeding information to those shortsighted ignorants that defy my rule."

Senya couldn't believe what she was hearing. And she didn't want to believe it — learning about yet another dimension of Nyu's lies and dishonesties was matches onto the fire that was already roaring inside of her soul.

"You are saying," Senya whispered, "that Nyu was working for the resistance?"

"Do not call them that," Malvorn snapped. "There is nothing to resist against. There is only the way forward and those not willing to walk it."

His throat had taken on a dark shade of red, lined with purple veins that were bulging under his skin.

"I don't care about your ideology," Senya hissed, fully aware that she was digging her own grave.

To her surprise, Malvorn seemed to relax.

"I guess that's one aspect in which you and your sister are alike."

Senya clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white. Malvorn's smile told her he was purposefully feeding into her anger.

"Anyway," he said, waving dismissively with his hands. "I want them dead. All of them."

"Have they committed any crimes yet?"

Malvorn glared at her, grinding his jaw.

"That is beside the point. And none of your concern. What is your concern, however, is leading me to them."

"You have even less honor than I always thought," Senya muttered.

Malvorn's lips formed a grimace of a smile, and he took a step towards her.

"Honor is for fools — power for those who take advantage of it."

They stared at each for a long moment, sparks crackling in between their narrowed eyes.

"What you ask of me is ridiculous," Senya scoffed. "How would I even do that? And more importantly, why?"

"I pity you if you're truly as ignorant as you claim to be," Malvorn sneered with a chilling voice.

"How is it possible you don't even realize that your own sister has been meeting with one of the leaders of this pathetic uprising for weeks and months? Right under your nose, mind you."

Senya tried to make sense of what Malvorn was saying, until it suddenly clicked. He was talking about Kwan, their family friend, and Senya's only confidant lately. The one who had known Senya and her sister for longer than she could remember. The one who, as of late, started to have many private conversations with Nyu, where she'd always wondered what they were talking about. It felt so painfully obvious in hindsight, and she hated herself for being so naive. But what she hated even more was how everyone around her kept failing her, no matter where she turned. They all let her down, one way or the other, and it left Senya with a feeling of hopelessness, no, despair — despair that turned into festering rage the more she processed what Malvorn had told her. Of course, she was aware that he could say anything he wanted without providing evidence, but deep down she knew it was true. How could she have been so blind?

"What's that?" Malvorn asked with a snide voice. "No objections? No insults?"

When Senya didn't respond, he added: "You know it's true."

His eyes rested on her for a long time, while silence filled the large hall like thick fog. Malvorn's expression was a mask, worn with the routine of a man used to breaking people.

"I know how it feels," he murmured and let his own pain surface, his anger radiating like a furnace. "When you live as long as I have, you come to realize that everyone around you is eventually going to let you down. The only thing you can do is become strong."

He paused and inclined his head, drawing shadows on his pale face.

"I can help you become strong. All you have to do is give up the people who feed you lies from a silver spoon. You know who I'm talking about — just let them show you where these scheming rats are hiding, and I will take care of the rest."

Fighting with herself, Senya hesitated. Kwan had always been kind to her, but now he turned out to be just as deceiving as her sister. They sure thought they cared about her, but did they actually? If so, why had they been keeping secrets from her? Where had they been when Alva got stabbed in the stomach like an animal? For years, things had not been going her way, and their support had done nothing to change that. She always played by the rules, but it seems like no one else was. Maybe it was time for a different approach. Maybe it was time for her to take matters into her own hands, to become … strong.

"If I do what you ask for — what do I get in return?"

Her response painted a sinister smile on Malvorn's face.

"What you've been longing for: a chance at revenge, and the power to exact it."

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