The Dark Lord's Castle
The Dark Lord's throne room had grown quiet. The floating violet flames cast long shadows across the obsidian floor. His inner circle stood frozen, uncertain how to react to the exchange unfolding before them. A woman who had just threatened their master now stood casually discussing fear and mortality.
Kahdijah studied the Dark Lord with fresh eyes. He was calm, composed, ancient—but there was something in his posture she hadn't noticed before. A tension. A carefully concealed awareness that he was out of his depth.
"I understand you'd be afraid," Kahdijah said, her voice carrying easily through the vast space. "You're clearly mortal. Long-lived, sure. Centuries of experience, accumulation of power, building an empire that spans continents. That's impressive, don't get me wrong." She tilted her head. "But none of that changes the fundamental truth. You're mortal. And mortals feel emotions. Fear is one of them."
