"You're here."
The man's voice sounded gentle, like ripples in a lake. But a shudder spread across Jezeneth's body as she heard it.
Her expression remained serious as she bowed lower.
"Yes. You called."
A brief silence gripped the space as the man simply stared at Jezeneth, his small smile unmoving.
He tilted his head slightly to the side.
"Hmm, that's correct. I called."
His steps echoed across the space as he continued descending the flight of stairs, unhurried.
"Jezeneth."
The atmosphere turned heavier.
Jezeneth's eyes sharpened, and she subtly clenched her fists.
"Yes."
"Do you know why plants grow as they do?" he asked. His tone sounded more curious than reprimanding. He continued without waiting for a response.
"…Why some twist toward the sun, while others crawl across the earth, seeking darkness?"
He brought out a dead leaf from his sleeve with a deft motion.
"It is not their will that shapes them, but the hand that tends to them. A gardener." He glanced at her then, his crimson eyes as sharp as razors.
"They bend to care, to patience, to guidance. With time, a gardener can make them bloom in ways nature never intended. Perfect symmetry, unnatural strength, an unyielding beauty that defies their wild origins. But sentient beings—"
He reached the bottom of the stairs, standing just a few meters away from her, his presence suddenly more suffocating, like vines threatening to close in around her.
"They are not so easily shaped."
He crushed the dead leaf in his hands, its form turning into small crumbs that scattered in the air.
"Jezeneth. Even the wildest trees can be pruned, given enough time and effort." He turned his gaze back to her, as though she were property.
"And I will give you that time."
"Come."
Jezeneth's gaze trembled. She took a second to gather her composure, but she knew she couldn't waste any more time.
She rose from her kneeling position, and as she was about to move, she froze as the man's voice reverberated once more.
"Crawl."
Jezeneth's eyes shot up to meet his, causing her whole body to freeze. He had a smile on his face, but his crimson eyes did not smile. They looked like twin infernos that pierced through her whole being.
Jezeneth gritted her teeth before lowering herself to the ground. She got on all fours and started crawling. Her whole existence screamed in defiance. It was humiliating.
But she held it in. With gritted teeth, she reached directly in front of the man and turned her head up to look at him.
The man gazed down at her, unmoved.
"Kiss," he said, extending his right leg forward.
Jezeneth lowered her gaze and saw the dirt-covered black boots. He wore the shoes of a gardener, and they were completely muddy from tending to his garden.
But it was obvious he had no intention of cleaning them.
Jezeneth listened, shakily lowering her head, and placed a kiss on the leg.
"Good," the man nodded in satisfaction, a gentle smile appearing on his face.
His smile lingered as he took a step back, forcing Jezeneth to remain on her knees.
The atmosphere softened, but the menace behind his crimson eyes remained.
"Do you feel it, Jezeneth?" he asked, his tone almost tender. "This is not humiliation. This is transformation. Every act of submission is a step toward something greater."
Jezeneth's nails dug into the floor to keep herself steady. She refused to answer, but her silence was answer enough.
The man chuckled softly, the sound low and resonant. "Defiance still burns within you. Good. It is not the weak who bend but the strong. You will be stronger for this, Jezeneth. In time."
He turned away, moving toward a table on the far side of the room. On it lay a single, peculiar plant encased in glass. Its petals glowed faintly with a sickly green hue, pulsing like a heartbeat. The man removed the glass dome, and the plant shivered as though alive.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked, though his back remained to her. "It is called the Venari Bloom. A rare flower, but utterly useless on its own. It survives by leeching off others, by consuming what is not its own. A parasite."
He turned his head slightly, glancing at her. "As much as it pains me to admit, much like me."
Jezeneth's eyes flared as she turned toward him, but she didn't speak. Her lineage had served this being for generations. It was a secret known only to those of her bloodline, the direct lineage.
As soon as she became a paragon and took control of the family's affairs, she had been initiated into the secret and forced to serve him ever since.
The man rarely summoned her, and even now, she had no idea what his ultimate goal was. But it seemed as though that was about to change.
Though he appeared humanoid, Jezeneth knew deep down that he wasn't human. In fact, she was certain he wasn't of any race known in Eldoralth.
She bottled up her humiliation and listened.
"Jezeneth. I will tell you a story."
The man turned fully toward her, the Venari Bloom glowing faintly in his hand, as though responding to the twisted excitement in his voice.
He placed the glass dome back over the Bloom, his fingers lingering on it briefly before stepping closer to her.
"You know, of course, of the Eldorians and the Mugruel. Their story of betrayal, the division of the cores, and the fall of Eldoralth." He paused, a cruel smile creeping across his lips. This time, it reached his eyes.
"But what you do not know… is the reason behind it all. Let me enlighten you."
He stepped even closer, his presence suffocating, the glow of the Venari Bloom casting faint shadows across his face.
"Above this plane, in a world far more advanced and far crueler than even Eldoralth, there exists a lineage of rulers. A single bloodline that stood above all. They ruled through fear, through power, through dominance. And at the head of this lineage was a ruler, sick, twisted, and endlessly creative in his games."
The man's smile grew wider, and the atmosphere grew heavier with every word he spoke.
"This ruler, in his infinite boredom, devised a game. You see, he had many offspring, and choosing an heir was… uninspiring. So he sent us—"
He paused for the briefest moment, his voice faltering, before letting out a soft chuckle and correcting himself.
"He sent them to the lower worlds. It was not a quest for survival, nor a journey of self-discovery. No, the goal was far simpler: to take over as many worlds as possible. To conquer."