Shirin DeArctus was the one person he dared trust. She had proven her loyalty over and over, embedding her worth to him and deeming him the only man capable of leading her to victory.

She's not like the others. Faustus Belial stared up, his gaze fixated on the ceiling, on the undecorated stone which curved above. Unlike the other scum, she exhibits true courage and true devotion, he thought. Whenever she fails, it maims her courage and forces her to question her own devotion to me...

A malicious smile pulled at his lips.

It's a shame she doesn't realise that her own worth will be the death of her.

His thoughts were interrupted by the dull, resounding creak of the twin doors situated on the other side of the great hall, which pushed aside, granting entry to Shirin herself. Belial's eyes lazily drifted, and he straightened up whilst Shirin made her way across the hall, her armoured boots clanking with every step. Belial's face darkened when he noticed the look of displeasure strewn across her face.

She came to a rest before the steps leading up to his throne and dropped to one knee. 'Your highness,' she began, bowing her head in a gesture of respect. Several silver locks fell forward, concealing her wounded expression. 'I come bearing bad news.'

'Hm?'

'The mercenaries failed to recover the key during their searches.' She looked up, ensuring that her eyes were level with his. 'We scoured the furthest regions of Bayloch, though we were unable to recover what you desire. However...' She paused, her light blue eyes questioning.

Belial raised a single brow. The lone gesture was enough to break her hesitation.

'We uncovered a potential lead which may be of valuable use,' she continued. 'One of my men discovered a trail of white feathers leading to a place of residence located on the outskirts of Bayloch.'

The magus' eyes widened a little. 'White feathers?'

'Yes, your highness. The residence belongs to a man called Laurus Killian. He is—'

'I know what he is.' Belial waved away her words. 'He is a magician who specialises in standard medical practice. He is what the people of this world call a physician: one who heals others.' His crimson eyes narrowed as he fought to unveil some kind of link.

'Your highness?' Shirin stared inquisitively. 'Is everything okay?'

'This woman. The Cryptess...' His voice was an ugly whisper. 'She is still alive and in possession of the key. She must have sought treatment from Killian.'

Shirin's features darkened. 'What are your orders, sir?'

'Inform our rogue contacts of this inconvenience and tell them to be wary of any sightings concerning a female magician and her winged accomplice. I want them both brought to me alive. If they have hidden the key somewhere, I intend to find out where, by any means necessary.'

'And what about Killian?'

Belial smirked and reached down. He drew forth a card from the depths of his trouser pocket and examined the inked letters etched across the worn material.

The Lord of Souls.

He then looked back towards Shirin, his smirk broadening somewhat. 'I think it's about time we paid the professor a well-earned visit.'

* * * *

Uh-oh. Evil is back at work, so it seems, and it's creating one heck of a stink. I swear, all Belial needs now is a white cat to stroke.

Why do you suppose Belial might also be looking for the Sacred Keys? Do you think he knows of their unique origin?

If you enjoyed this (incredibly short) chapter, don't forget to vote! :D