The Staff of Dreams

Howls of rage and agony echoed between the trees of the forest, sending flocks of birds flying through the sky in fear. Blasts of light and color lit up the darkness for only moments before being replaced by shrieks from different voices and cowering cries of others.

“Imbeciles!” The usually calm and collected voice that commanded the Gwydion sect was high pitched with rage, following with a string of curses that would punish those who had disobeyed him. Sparks shot from the tip of Atius’ wand as he waved it wildly at his wounded followers who made attempts to dodge the waves of darkness that choked them if caught within the spray of sparks. Many fell to their knees in trembling fear to accept their fate while others cowered miserably and attempted apologies. A horrific scream of frustration rang from Atius’ thin lips as he towered over his followers, blasting spell after spell to make his followers understand the agony they had caused him.

Those already wounded from battle now lay writhing on the ground of the Hoia-Baciu forest in anguish, choking on the darkness that skillfully spread through the air and engulfed them. When one of his loyal members rose to their feet to speak in hopes of explaining their motives, Atius didn’t allow him get a word out of his mouth. Instead he waved his hand upward like the slash of a blade. Unable to speak to explain his actions the man choked on his blood, made a terrible gurgling noise then fell to the ground dead in a heap. Suddenly the screams and whimpers quieted and silence hung on the thick humid air of the Romanian outlands.

Any objections that may have followed from the wounded on the ground were subdued. Atius paced from left to right through the clearing, trying to find a way to quell his anger so he could properly deal with the foolish things his men had done in his absence.

“Do you have any idea what you have done?” Atius’ voice rang through the forest and overhead, crashing like thunder. The wind howled around them, only adding to the poignant atmosphere of the haunted site. Silence met him minus the quiet sobbing of the six men and women who had been taken from Hogsmeade.

Those held captive were lying on the ground behind Atius, bound and gagged, each worse for wear after having landed in the forest when their captors had apparated them away from their homes. Atius had taken his anger out on them first, kicking at them and throwing spells their way that would harm them but not kill them. Now they lay broken and bleeding, with little to comfort them as they watched the horrific scene unfold.

“We were like shadows.” The cold, haunting voice like that of a ghost caught on the wind and drifted away unnaturally. “Now we are exposed. Like a nerve.”

“It was an accident.” One of the injured followers spoke up at last, his hand over his heart and fear in his eyes. The others around him stiffened visibly and scooted away discreetly in case Atius chose to take his anger out on him as he had done to the man who lay bloodied on the grass next to them. “No one was supposed to get hurt. No one was supposed to fight back! It escalated too quickly! We were trying to make you proud!” Atius contemplated a response and then walked gingerly over to the man who had been brave enough to speak up to him. The others around him practically held their breath while they waited to find out what their brother’s fate held for him.

“Proud?” Atius spoke through gritted teeth, pointing his wand just below the chin of the man who had spoken. “I send a small group to obtain for me subjects so that my tests may continue and progress may be made and instead you wage war on a prominent wizarding community? Nonetheless one that has been has seen war before and has been so ravaged in its recent past that the residents are filled with paranoia? Are you an idiot? I do not employ idiots!” Atius’ cold laugh held no humor in it and instead sent chills down their spines.

“They needed to be taught a lesson… Flaunting their magic around! They don’t realize what a gift it is! No one appreciates their skills. They mock those without magic, think them to be idiots! We were only giving them what they deserved.” He argued bravely, despite how his voice quavered. The man only wished to please the very man threatening him.

“And yet…” Atius discarded his wand and grabbed the man by his throat, gripping it hard enough to illicit a choking sound before tossing him backward near those who had been kidnapped from the chaos that had unfolded in Hogsmeade. “Yet you returned here… wounded and weak, begging for my forgiveness, begging for my understanding! Where is this glory you wished to bring me?” Atius gave the man a hard kick to his ribs, followed by another. Whipping his wand out Atius muttered “crucio” under his breath and watched the wizard writhe in excruciating pain under his spell. A wicked smile of satisfaction crept over his face as he watched the misery and horror flood through the eyes of the wizard suffering on the ground. “Not only did you fail but you called more of my men to arms and made the wizarding community aware and curious enough to pursue us!”

“You are a fool if you think they weren’t already curious of us.” Samael’s smooth voice cut through the air and nearly all heads turned to him though Atius remained staring at his prey, much like a hungry predator. Despite his collected tone, his demeanor clearly showed how frustrated he was.

“A fool, am I?”

“Not every wizard and witch is as feeble minded or cold hearted as you would like to think they are. Yes, most are unwilling to think their way of life could be disturbed but there are those who are wary after what Voldemort did and are watching… Even so many years later.” Samael walked around Atius, waving his wand so that Atius’ spell would be disrupted and the pain crippling the man on the ground would cease. It was too late for his victim for he lay on the ground twitching and seizing in misery despite how the magic had left his form.

“Men like Voldemort are exactly what we are trying to prevent.”

“Don’t be naïve. We are men like Voldemort and his Death Eaters only far less organized.” Samael clicked his tongue in disapproval then turned to the followers who were staring at him, flabbergasted. “What is wrong with you?” Atius was watching Samael with curiosity a smile still on his face and the hunger of the hunt still thick in his gaze. “How simple it is to follow an order and how pathetic it is that you couldn’t. You were told to abduct people not to wage war against Hogwarts! Now the whole of the Ministry will be after us if we’re lucky. All you had to do was sneak into the town and find easy prey! You could’ve waited until nightfall and instead you wage war on children and unsuspecting men and women? Pathetic.”

“Samael is correct.” The cool confidence in Atius’ voice returned but the hungry look remained in his eyes while he turned and walked past Samael. “If he had not come to your aid then you would have been captured or defeated by wizards that are far superior in skill. You are not ready for those sorts of battles and they have not been given the chance to choose sides either. Wizards and witches cannot voice opinions and make decisions without being educated, just as you were.”

“They teach magic my lord!” Feeling braver after having watched Samael speak out of turn to the master, some of the others were starting to return to their feet. They were still watching their master in case he was feeling particularly vengeful. The rest knew that Samael was something of a favorite to their lord and weren’t willing to take the same daring risks he’d taken. “They already made their choice.”

“This I do not disagree with. But we cannot achieve our goal with the entire magical community nipping on our heels. You are not ready yet and you made that obvious today. I have very few that I can trust to go head to head with practiced wizards. Be reminded of your failures.” Atius walked over to the body of the follower who had been tortured on the ground by the Cruciatus curse and grabbed him by his wrist. His body was limp but his eyes were wide open, staring at the others as if to plead for help but no words escaped his lips. Terror radiated off of him as Atius began to drag him across the clearing of the forest and through the winding trees.

“You are dismissed. Lick your wounds, get your tails from between your legs and the next time you don’t follow orders watch your heads because you’ll be losing them.” The followers gratefully disappeared from the clearing, glad to escape the wrath of their master but each feeling ashamed for having failed the man they looked up to. To them, the master was the man they admired much like a child would a father. He took them under his wing in spite of their failures, in spite of their shortcomings and taught them how to be better, how to find their inner confidence and gave them purpose and drive. To fail him was failing themselves and forfeiting everything they’d worked for. Sadness filled the clearing.

“I’m done.” Samael’s voice was strong and absolute once he was out of the earshot of the other members of the Gwydion sect. Atius turned to merely glance at him in mild amusement.

“You are not.” Atius shook his head and clicked his tongue, starting to drag the pained body along the uneven path through the crooked trees, not caring what additional pain he caused the man to feel. Those who had been taken from Hogsmeade were lying on the ground, still, in the clearing, sobbing against the barren earth while they watched the scene unfold before them. It was horrific enough to traumatize them into stillness.

“Your men are unorganized. First you stick me with Victor, the most incompetent pain in my side that I have ever encountered and his failures have repeatedly left me further behind than I should be. Then you send men to complete a task as simple as retrieving a handful of people to experiment on and instead they wage war on the whole of Hogsmeade on a school weekend? What kind of incompetence is that? I can’t work with such unreliable people anymore.”

“So you wish to leave then?” Atius continued through the trees and Samael watched him but didn’t immediately follow.

“I do.”

“I want you to see something.” Atius didn’t turn to look at him again and continued into the shadows cast by the trees in the darkness of the night. Samael reluctantly followed the older man, his head hung low as he walked. The forest felt darker and heavier than it usually did. The hauntings that occurred in the forest were rumored to be caused by Atius himself but Samael had discovered accounts of spirit activity occurring long before the Gwydion sect had been formed. Something sinister had happened in the forest many years ago, and it hung to nature like a bad stench where it festered like an open wound and only spread throughout the land to curse those who didn’t tread lightly. Even the trees were malformed.

Somehow Atius had become one with the spirits that haunted the grounds of the woods, and this was one of the reasons Samael feared him. What great power must reside within the master to allow him to escape the wrath of what kept muggles and wizards away from the Romanian forest of legend? And further than that, what power allowed him to control it? Voldemort had been terrifying because the world knew just how strong he was. Atius was terrifying for the exact opposite reason. Samael knew he was strong, but how strong was a mystery.

“What is it I am to see?” Samael continued through the winding trees, off of the path between them and followed Atius precariously. The man seemed to float through the trees, like he was a ghost in his own right. Atius didn’t respond but led Samael deeper into the forest until they approached a large door, carved into one of the trees. Opening it without touching it, Atius led Samael down a long dark and foreboding staircase. Strange sounds came from below, like steam hissing and metal clanking. Samael felt his stomach drop.

“You will see the future of the wizarding world.” Atius pushed the crippled wizard down the stairs where he disappeared from view with several sickening thuds. “Follow me.”

“You have heard me talk of the desire to escape the chains with which magic has bound us in, but do you know what steps I have taken?” Atius kicked the human lump at the foot of the stairs and, to Samael’s surprise, two Goblins scurried out of the darkness and dragged him away.

Though he was shocked at the sounds and smells that assailed his senses, Samael answered coolly, refusing to give Atius the knowledge that he’d gotten under his skin. “I knew you were beginning experiments, but you haven’t seen fit to share what they entail.”

Atius smirked, “Beginning? Oh no, my dear child, those experiments began long ago, but they have grown in strength and severity as the years have passed.”

Samael continued to follow Atius further into the underground cavern and, the further they went inside, the deeper and heavier the darkness of the forest grew. “What is this place?” he asked in hushed tones, clinging desperately to his wand in the folds of his robes. It offered little comfort.

“This is my home, Samael.” Atius smile seemed to gleam in the darkness, mocking his follower’s obvious discomfort. Samael had always been too sure of himself and Atius appreciated the times that he had the chance to remind him just who his master was. Most of his other followers were idiots, with as little brains as they had magic, and it was easy for him to keep them in line, even with mix-ups like today. But Samael was different. He was smart, quite nearly as smart as Atius himself, and powerful. Atius looked forward to the day when he could strip Samael of his magical abilities. He was one of the few wizards who could ever be a threat to him and, when his experiments were completed, Samael would be the first.

As they walked farther and farther into the tunnel, it slowly began expanding and soon the two found themselves in a large, circular chamber filled with separate rooms made of glass, making it possible to see how all of the experiments worked at the same time. Goblins scurried to and fro, going about the master’s work. In some rooms potions bubbled and smoked, filling the spaces with different colors and smells, none of which were appealing. Inside these potions, different body parts bobbed; some brains, some hearts. Samael assumed that they were trying to pinpoint where magic radiated from in the body. In another room, a wizard was strapped onto a table with a series of wires attached to his frame.

A wand was just outside of arm’s length and every time the man tried to call his wand to him an electric shock went through his body. In one room Samael saw a woman strapped to a chair with her wand clutched in one hand. Behind her, goblins were poking and prodding a red mass that Samael realized after a few seconds was her exposed brain, trying to isolate where magic occurred. Bile crept up his throat as he watched, horrified at the various modes of torture Atius had concocted. Unable to restrain himself, he stepped to the side and vomited.

“Yes, it does take some getting used to.” Atius said calmly, though his face was filled with glee at Samael’s weakness. “The stain of magic is so deeply ingrained in our bodies that it will take some digging to get out, but we will move forward.”

As Samael stood and wiped his mouth with a shaking hand, a group of goblins approached Atius, dragging behind them the kidnapped villagers. “Where would you like them?”

Atius let his eyes slowly look over each new volunteer. Most of them were still so frightened of him that they refused to meet his eyes and huddled together in a terrified mass, but one stood alone, standing protectively between the group and the goblins. “What is your name?” he asked the tall, blonde haired man who showed such promise.

“Ernie Macmillan.” He said, managing to keep all but a small quiver from his voice.

Atius circled the group, one arm crossed over his chest while the other tapped thoughtfully at his chin, “What am I to do with you and your friends Ernie Macmillan?”

“Something horrible, no doubt.” He replied coolly.

“Yes, you might think it horrible.” He said casually, “I don’t imagine that someone from one of the oldest wizarding families in our history would really understand what we are trying to do here.” Atius stopped behind the cowering group, looking closely at their forms. Finally, a smile of relief crept across his face, “Good, they managed to do something right.” With amazing speed, he pushed the cowering group apart and pulled a small bundle from among them. With a cry of outrage, Ernie jumped towards the man who had so casually taken his two year old son, but the goblins were on him in seconds, long whips wrapping around his arms and legs, forcing him back to the ground.

“Take the rest and split them up. We’ll begin with them tomorrow. Rangorick, take the child and put it with the others.” He motioned to another goblin that came and took the child from his arms. Macmillan struggled futilely against the cords that bound him, curses streaming from his lips, mixed with howls of rage and loss.

Samael watched, unmoving, as the scene unfolded before him. Atuis continued his tour, showing Samael many underground caverns filled with experiments coupled with whimpers, cries, and the utter silence of lost hope. Clearly Atius intended to get another reaction from his protégé, but Samael looked on unmoved, appearing numb from the outside, though his mind was working furiously.

At each faceless prisoner, Samael saw his sister. Long since thought dead, Samael had given up any hope of having any kind of family again. If he was brutally honest with himself, that was one of the draws of the Gwydion sect. Here, he was an older brother to many who were just as lost and desolate as he had been once upon a time. A few months ago Atius had casually mentioned Malicia’s name when they were discussing the Staff of Dreams, suggesting that she had some information on how to start it.

He had known that Samael had thought she was dead and reveled in proving how arrogant he had been to assume that he was the only one to survive. He spoke eloquently for some time on how people react to being abandoned and the pain he must have put his dear sister through. At the time Samael thought little of it, Malicia could not be alive, and even if she was, she had been through no more than he himself had. They both would have lived life on their own and made their own choices. Now they just had to live with those choices.

Seeing her at Hogwarts a few months before had shocked him to the core, so much so that she almost caught him. He had been on few outings since then, with Atius waiting for another dream, and in his spare time his mind would inadvertently wander to her. What had her life been like? He wound up a criminal, how did she wind up a teacher? Once, when he had been scouting for possible ‘volunteers’ he had been to an old bookstore and had seen her name emblazoned on a leather bound cover. It took all of his will power to not pick it up, buy it, steal it, read it. Victor had been with him and had been watching him closely for weeks. If he knew Samael’s weakness for his sister it would only be minutes before it circled back to Atius.

A particularly piercing scream brought him back to his present predicament, and the reality of the underground caverns fell full on his shoulders. The man who stood next to him stood proud, eager to see Samael unnerved before his grandeur, knowledge, and skill. Inwardly, Samael scoffed at how much trouble Atius went through to make himself appear so grand and wise, but quickly checked the thought. Looking at the darkness around him, his thoughts cleared.

Malicia was his sister, but she had been on her own as long as he had and undoubtedly could take care of herself. The fight in Hogsmeade had proven that to him. If he wanted to survive, he needed to focus. He was on his own and every move, decision, reaction could either keep him alive a little longer, or make him a new toy for a deranged goblin in a dark pit. [a name="_GoBack"][/a]

“I know that you are trying to discover the origins of magic from within these people but… this is vile. This isn’t research, it’s torture.” Samael curled his lip in disgust, stopping his walk. There were terrible mechanical sounds coming from the room at the end of the hallway. Screams echoed from somewhere up above while the occasional whimpers and groans from some poor tortured soul made for background music. Personally, Samael would’ve much preferred the silence.

“Many men have the notion to achieve greatness but very few actually have the gall to get their hands dirty in the attempt.” Atius reminded Samael that he was far more than the maniac he had displayed in the clearing above. While he was quirky and often horrific in demeanor, he was also brilliant and that was perhaps what made him so dangerous. Atius wasn’t afraid to delve into the darkness in other’s hearts in order to reach his end. He was so focused on his goal of ridding the world of magic that he would go to any lengths.

Their walk through the underground had made that perfectly clear to Samael. “And what if this accomplishes nothing but torturing innocent witches and wizards?”

“There is no such thing as an innocent life. You of all people should know that. What was it you told me once?”

“You’re twisting my words against me.” Samael didn’t need reminding of the way he’d behaved in his past.

“When I asked you what gave you the right to steal from others and to manipulate them you told me that no person was innocent. You assured me that every person in the world had done something worthy of the recompense you provided.”

“Guilt and human nature aren’t the same thing. People make mistakes.” Samael began. “And those who exploit them are just as terrible.”

“I’m not exploiting them.” Atius chuckled. Samael’s intelligence made him both amusing and frustrating for the leader of the Gwydion sect.

“What do you call this?” Samael gestured to their dark surroundings.

“This is the future.” Atius held his hands in front of him, a kind smile on his face.

“Seems awfully bleak doesn’t it?”

“Samael, do you know anything of the wars fought by muggles?”

“Very little, only what was required of me in my days at school.” Samael grimaced and glanced to the side.

“There is no greater reward than the one that is fought for in the sewers through the mud and muck. What you see here is a step toward progress and what I’ll show you will wipe any doubt from your mind.” Atius turned from Samael and continued down the hall to a doorway at the very end. Uneasiness welled within Samael’s throat, triggering his gag reflex once again. Fortunately he’d already emptied the contents of his stomach when he’d seen the inside of a man’s skull. He’d had the distinct feeling that Atius had brought him down into the depths of that hell hole in order to put him in his place after his outburst in the clearing above.

Samael never considered that Atius was actually getting to a point with his ranting and showing off his horrific toys. Through the door at the end of the hall Samael was led into darkness. Goose bumps broke out over his skin and he pulled his cloak tighter around him to keep out the chill. Atius led him through the darkness, little light to guide his way. Samael was only able to keep up because the little light that remained in the cold room allowed him to see a foot or two in front of him.

“Where are we?” Silence finally unnerved Samael to the point where he felt the need to hurry things along. “I can’t see a thing in here.”

“I want to show you the future.” Atius whispered, turning on his heels and pointing his wand at Samael. Freezing in place, Samael eyed the wand. He’d always expected Atius to be the one to someday kill him, but he had never thought the day would come so quickly. But Atius couldn’t kill him. Not yet at least. If Atius wanted the Staff of Dreams then he would need Samael around until the path was completed. With someone else pursuing the Staff and taking the path through the dreams, Atius couldn’t afford to start over with someone new. This gave Samael some confidence but in the same breath, the atmosphere was so eerie that he still felt frightened.

“The future seems really dimly lit. Are there lanterns down here perhaps?” Samael attempted to jest but fear made his voice sound weak even to his own ears.

“Just a little further.” Atius held the wand still in front of Samael’s face, but then turned with it pointed in front of him and summoned a light to the end. Comfort flooded through Samael at the sight of the glow at the tip of the wand. At least it wasn’t some horrible torture spell that Samael would have to endure and now he could see what was around him.

Upon inspecting his surroundings, he wished the light would go back out. There were tanks lining the left wall filled with mysterious different colored liquids, but unlike the jars on the floors above they didn’t contain misplaced muscles and organs. No, there were body parts, entire limbs, suspended in the fluids and hooked to strange wires that Samael didn’t recognize. There were pumps and monitors with strange lights flittering across them next to the tanks. Samael had seen things like this before in muggle books and in his travels. He’d once ended up in a muggle hospital when he’d been knocked unconscious during a job. They’d hooked him up to something they called a heart monitor and it beeped incessantly while it measured to make sure his heart was beating okay.

Muggles really were ingenious with the things they’d created to overcome the handicap of being without magic.

What was most disturbing about the suspended limbs within the jars was that they were still moving despite how they were removed from the rest of the body. On the other side of the room were curtains hanging and separating the remaining room into sections. Behind the curtains, Samael could see silhouettes of gurneys and hear strange sounds muffled.

“What the hell is this place?” He muttered, walking toward the curtains. Atius’ hand resting on his shoulder made Samael nearly jump out of his skin.

“I wouldn’t open those if I were you.” Atius voice made the hair on the back of Samael’s neck stand erect.

“Why not?”

“I’m gathering you’re rather squeamish seeing as the sight of someone’s brain earlier made you retch. What’s behind these curtains is far more grotesque to someone with even a strong resolve.” Atius walked toward the back of the room and through an archway into the room beyond it. “This is what I brought you down here to see.”

Samael followed silently and stood in the archway, prepared to turn back if things took a nastier turn than they already had. Atius walked along the wall, using his wand to light several candles to give the room a dim flickering glow so that Samael could better see.

In the center of the room there were five children of varying ages and races staring at the wall facing away from them. None of them made a move, nor did they try to speak or escape. Samael had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach but waited for his master to start talking again to explain what he was looking at.

“Obedience must be taught at a young age. Come look.” Atius approached the young boy about ten years old in the far left chair and forced his head down. On the back of his neck, Samael could see fading scars and stitching peeking above the collar of the shirt he wore.

“What is that?” Samael whispered, making no further attempts to hide the shakiness to his voice. There was no point in trying to pretend he wasn’t petrified by what he was seeing.

“Progress, I told you.” Atius pulled his hand away from the young boy. “The three on the right were born to magical families and started showing signs of magic as many witches and wizards do when they’re younger. It is beyond their control.”

“But they’re children.”

“All the more reason to start with them, don’t you think?” Atius paced behind Samael and inspected the five children who were staring but didn’t seem afraid. In fact, they seemed to feel nothing at all. “Think about it, really, for just a second.” Samael had already thought about it and was disgusted. But at the same time he was curious to know what had been done to the children and also to know if it could be reversed.

“I have thought about it and I need to understand, from your words. My mind only sees children and the pain they must have felt.”

“They feel no pain!” Atius didn’t seem to understand why Samael wasn’t ecstatic to see his progress. “Why is it that some children born to strong pure blood wizards exhibit no magical power at all? Why is it that some children born to completely normal muggle parents are born with magical skills? Do you think that’s all random?”

“I think it’s a case by case thing…” Samael guessed but he had never really truly sat and thought about how or why magic occurred within some and not within others. He guessed that being one of exceptional magical skill had made him overlook something so obvious. But he could tell that Atius knew many who had asked that very question.

“When I was first brought a child by one of my followers, I scolded them. I was just like you, disgusted and outraged. Children are still innocent. They can be molded and forged by the adults around them. It is the decisions we make that shape the decisions they make. But then I got to thinking… what is it that causes magic within a wizard or witch? Maybe this young boy… this boy right here,” Atius walked back to the boy on the far left, “maybe he would be the key to understanding the source of magic.”

“And did you succeed then?” Samael nearly held his breath. If he had succeeded via experiments in getting rid of magic in a wizard then why was he still pursuing the Staff of Dreams?”

“Yes and no.” Atius turned his gaze away. “He still has magic but he can’t use it without my say so.”

“Like the Imperius curse?” Samael wondered why he would go through so much trouble to recreate something medically that magic had already accomplished.

“No, no you fool… this is complete mind control. He is mine to manipulate. All of them are. The three on the right are still in progress… I am afraid the one second to the left is permanently mute from our work but the boy on the left… he shows progress. He is weaker than he once was.” Samael thought mind control in any situation was dangerous but he wasn’t about to tell Atius that.

“What good does it do our cause if he still has magic?” Samael didn’t seem to understand why Atius was so proud of this child. He felt nothing but pity for the young man and the others trapped within the confines of the torture chamber underground. Mentally, Samael made a note never to be drawn this far into the forest again and to refuse entry to the place if he could avoid it in the future. He’d seen far too much torture already to revisit the place.

“I said progress not a cure.” Atius no longer seemed pleased. Annoyance was thick in his tone, as though he couldn’t understand why Samael wasn’t as excited as he was about what he was being shown. “Even the most miniscule progress is progress! If magical power can be weakened then it can be stomped out entirely. It gives hope to the hopeless.”

“And now what of these children who are mutilated and mindless? What becomes of them?” Samael walked around to look at the faces of the children. He wanted to remember this moment in his mind’s eyes though he wasn’t quite sure why.

“They are still useful in their ways. But this one… he is a new soldier in our army.”

“A soldier? He’s just a child.”

“Yes, but in a short while he will be eleven. You know as well as I do what happens to a wizard when they turn eleven.”

“They get sent to Wizarding School.” Samael grimaced upon realizing what Atius was actually up to. It was disturbingly brilliant. “We’ll have ears and eyes on the inside.”

“More information than we could’ve hoped for. So while you are still hunting the Staff of Dreams to further our cause, we are working tirelessly to research other options.”

“Why would you show me this?” Samael pointed to the children. If anything it made him want to leave even more, but he wasn’t going to let on. Atius would hunt him down and have him killed if he knew he was considering turning sides.

“To give you hope, Samael.” Atius placed both hands onto Samael’s shoulders and offered a deceivingly kind smile. “You are one of my strongest and I sense that this nonsense with your sister has left you scared and confused. But I need you to remember why you’re fighting.”

“For my parents.” Samael whispered, though his stomach was in knots.

“To prevent it from happening to anyone else.” Atius nodded to confirm.

“Yes.” Samael bowed his head.

“You may be on your way.” Atius released Samael’s shoulders and walked slowly out the door, not waiting for Samael to follow him. With one more glance at the children seated all in a row, staring lifelessly at the wall, Samael apparated as far away as his mind could conjure.