<p>The heavy oak doors of the study groaned as they swung open, revealing the dimly lit chamber within. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment and candle wax, shadows dancing along the rows of bookshelves that lined the walls. Sitting at his desk, Paul Reinhardt, magister gray wizard of the Empire, looked up from a tome as the rhythmic click of heels echoed through the room.</p> <p>Arkania entered with deliberate grace, her crimson coat flowing behind her like a bloodstained banner. Her amethyst eyes, flecked with gold, caught the flickering light of the hearth as she surveyed the room. There was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, the kind that made it clear she found all of this beneath her.</p> <p>“You summoned me, oh mighty master of dusty tomes?” she said, her voice dripping with mock reverence as she came to a stop before the desk. “Do tell me, is this about another thrilling lecture on mortal morality, or have you finally decided to let me out of this cage for something a bit more… exciting?”</p> <p>Reinhardt closed the book with a soft thud and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “Good evening to you too, Arkania. I see you’re as charming as ever.”</p> <p>She placed a hand on her hip, tilting her head slightly. “Charming? A mortal complimenting a daemon. Careful, master, your priests might take issue with such heretical admiration.”</p> <p>Reinhardt raised an eyebrow, his tone dry. “If they ever step foot in this castle, you’ll be the least of their concerns. Now, sit.”</p> <p>Arkania raised her other hand in mock surrender. “As you command, oh wielder of leash and chain.” She took a seat across from him, her movements deliberate, as though to emphasize that every step was her choice—even when it wasn’t.</p> <p>“Still bitter, I see,” Reinhardt remarked, watching her settle into the chair. “I’d hoped a few months of submission might soften your edges.”</p> <p>“Oh, you mistake bitterness for amusement,” she replied, resting her chin on one hand. “It’s endlessly entertaining to watch you mortals bustle about with your fleeting ambitions. And yet, here I am, bound by one of you. Truly, the ultimate irony.”</p> <p>“And yet, despite that, you’ve managed to keep yourself remarkably well-behaved. Perhaps I should commend you for your restraint,” he said, his tone dry as he flipped the cover of another book casually.</p> <p>She laughed softly, a sound that was both melodious and unnerving. “Well-behaved? Don’t mistake obedience for submission, Reinhardt. You’re the one who ensured my leash is short. I simply enjoy pulling at it now and then to see if you’re still paying attention.”</p> <p>He allowed a faint smirk to cross his lips. “Oh, I’m always paying attention, Arkania. But I didn’t summon you here to discuss your leash.”</p> <p>Her expression shifted, though the smirk remained. “Oh? And here I thought we were bonding.”</p> <p>“Not quite,” Reinhardt replied, standing and moving toward the window. He clasped his hands behind his back, looking out at the moonlit courtyard below. “There’s a matter that requires your… unique expertise.”</p> <p>Arkania leaned forward slightly, her interest piqued despite herself. “Unique expertise? How flattering. Let me guess—some Chaos cult you want me to dismantle, or perhaps a rival wizard you need dealt with? Do tell, master, what chaos have you decided to throw me into this time?”</p> <p>She stepped closer, her gaze sharp but playful. “So… what do you want with me, master?”</p>