Dark Parasyte

Corvin entered his study with Valyne's delicate hand still linked to his forearm. He guided her toward the large sofa and sat down comfortably, his posture relaxed, while she remained standing before him, her expression caught between awe and confusion. He let the silence linger, giving her the space she needed to gather her thoughts. At last, Valyne inhaled deeply, her lovely turquoise gaze locking onto his. She looked as if she were carrying the weight of two worlds on her shoulders, torn between wonder and fear.

"How?" she whispered at last. "How is it possible that you fed my mana core to the limit, so much that I ascended without ever entering the meditative state? That should not even be possible."

Corvin's lips curved into a faint smile, calm as ever. "You are still not bound to me, my dear," he said evenly. "The oaths you swore upon entering the Arcanum still hold your leash. They keep you from standing fully at my side, no matter what your heart may want."

Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her angelic face. She stepped closer, her body trembling, and then she sank to her knees between his legs, lowering her head as if before an altar. Her voice broke into a vow, fierce despite the tremor in it. "I swear upon my undying soul," she whispered, every word etched with raw emotion. "My loyalty to you will always stand above everything and everyone else."

The aether responded instantly, threads of power tightening around her vow like invisible chains of light. Corvin closed his eyes for a brief moment, shaking his head slowly. "What have you done, my little fox?" he murmured, his tone tender but edged with regret. His hands rose to cup her cheeks, his thumbs brushing her skin as though she were porcelain. "What will happen when you see or hear something that clashes between your oaths to Synod and your vow to me? How will you choose?"

Valyne's eyes did not waver. Her voice was faint, yet steady, every syllable carved with determination. "I will perish before I let anything happen to you because of me. I will not be a liability. I want to be part of your strength… not your weakness. I want to stand beside you, whatever the cost."

Warmth softened Corvin's gaze. His fingers caressed her cheeks, then slipped down to draw her gently up onto his lap. His hand threaded into her hair, twisting a lock between his fingers before giving a soft tug, tilting her head back. Her pale throat was exposed to him, her pulse racing beneath her skin. He lowered his lips, planting light kisses along her neck, his teeth grazing her lightly as small, helpless moans escaped her lips, each one trembling with both fear and desire.

Abruptly, Valyne pulled away, her face crimson. She shook her head quickly, gathering herself, and stood hastily from his lap, smoothing her robes as if to compose her dignity. Her turquoise gaze sharpened, fighting against her fluster. "Not now," she said, her voice firm despite her blush. "I have to meditate… to stabilize my core."

Corvin leaned back, amused, and nodded with an approving smile. "Of course, little fox. Go. I will see you when you are ready. Do not push yourself too far."

She turned to the door, her steps quick but unsteady, her shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath. Just before opening it, she looked back over her shoulder, her voice formal, though it trembled at the edges. "I have accepted my reality, Your Grace. Please be assured, I understand I will not be your sole concubine. You have my blessings, in whatever steps you take... whether you want it or not."

Without waiting for his reply, Valyne slipped out of the study, closing the door softly behind her. In her innocent heart, happiness and sadness swirled together, each vying for dominance as she returned to her chambers to face the storm within her core. Her thoughts spun wildly, yet one truth rang louder than the rest: she had chosen her path, and there was no turning back.

--

Both Archmagi wasted no time committing the extraordinary event to parchment. Their quills scratched furiously across vellum as they recounted, in exacting detail, the unprecedented ascension of a Magistra to Magus within the great hall. An ascension fueled not by meditation or years of accumulation, but by the unmistakable resonance of Planarch Corvin Blackmoor. Every flare of turquoise light, every pulse of expanding wave, every sign that her core was getting filled with mana with his signature was written down with ruthless clarity. The missives were sealed with urgency and sent through the fastest available channels, for the implications of what had transpired could not be ignored, nor delayed. To the Archmagi, it was not simply a matter of record, it was a shift in power that demanded immediate scrutiny.

Vaelorin, once the visible face of the Umbral Synod within Obsidian Gate, now found himself serving as the Planarch's representative, Acting Lord when Corvin was not around in Raven's Nest. The shift in his role might have seemed awkward to some, a demotion in appearances, but Vaelorin felt only satisfaction. Strange though it was, it pleased him deeply. Seated in his study, the dim glow of mage lights flickering against the runed walls, he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes closed. Quiet prayers to the Dark Mother left his lips, soft as a lover's whisper. Thank you for sending this Raven to us, he murmured, gratitude and reverence etched into each word. The silence of the chamber seemed to embrace his devotion, as though the Dark Mother herself listened.

Hours passed. When Corvin finally received an echo from one of his covenant bound maids, it carried the message that the dinner was ready. Rising from his seat, he instructed the maid with calm authority: summon all the guests to the dining hall, but leave Valyne undisturbed. Her meditation was not to be broken for something as trivial as a meal, not when her very core was still stabilizing.

As Corvin walked through the castle's shadowed corridors, Vaelorin joined him, steps echoing in unison with his lord's. The Archmagus spoke smoothly, his voice filled with quiet intent. "Your Grace, I would like your agreement to bring more of our people here. Not only civilians to settle, but also a number of our shadows. I want us to expand our roots, strengthen our hold."

Corvin's reply came without hesitation. "Do as you wish, Archmagus. Just keep everything cloaked. I do not want whispers reaching the High Elves, or that damned Arbiter about balance being broken."

Vaelorin's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile. He dipped his head respectfully. "As you command, Your Grace." His words carried both loyalty and subtle triumph, for he could already see the pieces of his design falling into place.

Together, they entered the grand dining hall. The chamber was lit by floating orbs of light, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal goblets. Archmagus Seliorna was already seated, her posture rigid, her expression carefully composed. Beside her sat the three magistras, their beauty framed in mage light, their faces masks of formality. Yet Serenya's wide green eyes betrayed her, flicking about the hall as if searching for someone. Corvin noticed instantly and addressed her with casual ease. "Magus Valyne is meditating to stabilize her core, my dear. She will not be joining us this eve."

Serenya's cheeks warmed, her face softening as she nodded quickly. "I understand," she murmured, her voice little more than a whisper.

At that moment, the maids swept in with practiced grace, carrying trays laden with steaming dishes and bottles of aged wine. Aromas of roasted meats, spiced vegetables, and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of candle wax. The table became a tapestry of abundance. Before Corvin was placed a perfectly prepared T-bone steak, its surface seared to perfection, juices glistening beneath the flickering light. He cut into it with deliberate calm, savoring each bite as his mood settled into quiet contentment. The meal passed without the tension that so often accompanied these gatherings. Conversation was polite, restrained. The magi exchanged pleasantries and minor observations, yet none dared to disrupt the tranquil mood. His presence alone kept the hall in order.

When the final plates were cleared and the last goblets drained, one by one the Archmagi and magistras rose from their seats. Each offered Corvin a respectful nod before slipping away to their quarters, the soft shuffle of footsteps echoing through the hall until silence returned. Only Serenya remained, seated still, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her large, vibrant green eyes lowered, though the faint tremble of her lashes betrayed the thoughts racing within her.

At last, she rose, her voice soft but resolute. "Your Grace," she said, the words tinged with nervousness and determination in equal measure.

Corvin stood as well, his steel grey gaze steady, his expression unreadable but his tone unexpectedly warm. "Come, my dear." He extended his arm to her in formal courtesy. She hesitated only a heartbeat before taking it. Together, they left the hall, their steps echoing against stone as they moved through the corridors. The shadows swallowed them both, and the castle seemed to grow quieter still, as though it, too, awaited what would unfold next.

--

As Corvin sat on the sofa of his study for the second time that day, he gestured with his hand for Serenya to take a seat. The young Magistra hesitated only a moment before obeying, moving with quiet grace to settle opposite him. Her petite figure was a study in elven beauty, at barely one meter fifty five, she seemed almost fragile when compared to his towering two meters twenty. Yet in her delicacy there was a harmony that drew the eye. Her hair was the rich hue of fresh spilled wine, cascading down her back like a silken curtain, framing a face that seemed sculpted from porcelain. Her skin was fair, her cheeks blushing faintly, her lips tinted like rose petals. Her large green eyes, luminous even by Elven standards, were almost too big for her cherub like face, giving her the look of innocence wrapped in ethereal charm. Her curves, though modest compared to others, were so precisely balanced on her small frame that every line of her body seemed perfected by nature itself.

Corvin leaned back, allowing her the time she clearly needed to arrange her thoughts. He watched the flicker of hesitation, the flush that deepened across her cheeks, the way her hands twisted nervously in her lap. At last, breaking the silence with an amused tone, he said, "I can always read your thoughts, my dear, if arranging them into a presentable state is such a burden."

Her eyes widened in alarm, the blush spreading hotter across her pale skin. Yet she held his gaze. "You are welcome to do so, Your Grace," she replied softly, though her voice quivered. "I came here knowing what was expected of me… and after seeing you, willing as well."

"Are you, now?" Corvin asked, still in a light mood, his steel grey eyes glinting faintly with intrigue. "Tell me, Serenya, why are you here? Why did you request this meeting?"

Serenya swallowed, her delicate hands clasping tightly. "We are here to be in your service, Your Grace," she said, her voice faint but determined. "And I… I would like to become your mate. If the Mother Tree wills it, I would even carry your children." Her cheeks flushed crimson at her own boldness, her words tumbling out with both sincerity and embarrassment.

Corvin regarded her for a long moment, tempted by the earnestness shining in her green eyes. "Are you certain of this decision, Serenya? I do not tolerate dishonesty. And once I claim you, you will not be a High Elf, nor of the Synod, anymore. You will be mine, my Elf. Think carefully, little one."

She lowered her gaze, silent for a long time. Corvin, curious, slipped effortlessly into mindwalk. Her life unfolded before him: born the second daughter of a minor noble house in Aeloria, her mother lost to illness, her father marrying another woman whose cruelty turned her childhood into a quiet torment. Her stepmother's cold disdain, her sister's marriage leaving her abandoned and alone, it all filled her heart with longing for belonging. When the summons came for this assignment, she had accepted eagerly, without hesitation, as though it was a door opening to her escape.

Corvin stood, towering above her. He stepped closer, the difference in their statures stark, his shadow nearly enveloping her petite frame. With a single finger, he lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. Those emerald green orbs looked up at him, wide and uncertain, yet filled with yearning. "You do not have to return to them, my dear. Not if you do not wish it. You may stay here in my castle, in my domain, for as long as you desire. You need not serve me as a maid, an aide, a secretary, or a concubine. Go, rest. Think. Bring me your answer when you are certain."

But Serenya did not blink. She did not look away. "What if I want to, Your Grace?" she whispered, her voice trembling but steadying as she went on. "What if I want to serve you as your maid, your aide, your secretary… and your concubine?" Her cheeks darkened to a deeper crimson at the last word, her breath catching as the confession left her lips.

A rare warmth touched Corvin's smile. "Then I will expect your absolute loyalty, Serenya. I will demand it, bound by oath."

She straightened, her small frame trembling but resolute. "I, Magistra Serenya Valerith, swear on my undying soul to be loyal to you, and only you, Planarch Corvin Blackmoor. May the Mother Tree be witness to my sincerity." Her voice rang clear as the vow took root, the aether stirring to acknowledge it.

Corvin leaned down slowly, his silver eyes never leaving hers, and brushed a feather light kiss against her rose tinted lips. Her breath caught, but she did not pull away. "Welcome, my dear," he whispered, his voice low and intimate, "to Raven's Nest. Your home."

He extended his hand, and she placed her petite one into his much larger palm. Her smile bloomed then, radiant and genuine, like a flower opening to the sun. Together, Corvin leading and Serenya at his side, they left the study and made their way toward his bedchamber.