The Black Lord visited Bane’s dreams again that night. His anger manifested in dark tongues of fire that lashed out like whips. Blackness, spotted with tiny red sparks, spun in dizzying patterns around him. Bane’s mind reeled under the onslaught of the Black Lord’s fury, and he struggled to listen to his father’s words.
“You still defy me, son?” he boomed.
“No, Father. I will kill the girl. I just wish to experiment with her first. Already I have found how to make her suffer, and her pain brings me joy. Mealle told you?”
The Black Lord nodded, sparks hissing from him. The spinning blackness cooled to grey. “Find another healer to play with. Kill her now.”
“Very well, I will, as soon as I have a replacement.”
The Black Lord seemed to swell with rage, but controlled himself. “There is an abbey fifty miles from you. Go there tomorrow.”
“Yes, Father.”