Chapter 666 - The Master’s Return (1/2)

On the outskirts of a little-known muggle town by the name of Sharmourn is the old Gibbon manor that coldly looks down on the village that peacefully lay in the hills down below. The dark manor is surrounded by thorny overgrown bushes that rustle in the brisk night breeze. Tumbling, dried, sickly-looking leaves scurry and creep up the twisting pathway and past the cold, metal gates that are covered by winding vines. More than a few leaves are caught in the gate and struggle futilely, while others manage to escape and tumble up the hill, past old, decaying trees, before arriving in front of the dark and ancient manor.

The night is dark as the dim crescent moonlight casts dimly down below casting very dark shadows in around the manor but especially upon the countless tombstones of the Gibbon family that lay behind the ancient manor. The air is heavily filled with tension and dread as Death Eater's gathered together in the front hall of the ancient Gibbons residence to welcome the return of their Dark Lord. The Dark Lord had sent word beforehand that he would be returning that evening, and they were all to be present to greet him.

On opposite sides of the hall stand two dark-haired men. The tall, slender wizard with icy dark eyes, Rodolphus Lestrange stares out the window overlooking the grounds pensively. While the broad-shouldered, Antonin Dolohov's cold haughty features twist into a sneer. All the Death Eaters, who were present knew that the two wizards were at odds with each other. And frankly, none of the Death Eaters were stupid enough to attempt nor mitigate a reconciliation between either man lest they be slain without cause by either of them.

In the corner of the hall, the mild sniffing of Empusa Snyde can be heard. All of the Death Eaters by default had long ago learned to tune out the constant wails of the widow Snyde. She could drive anyone mad with her perpetual lament over her deceased husband. More than one Death Eater tended to tightly clasp their wand in hand with great irk, whenever she was around.

However, Empusa was still a powerful, malicious witch. She had not yet allowed a curse or hex to be cast on her person, on the contrary, anyone who had attempted such a feat had been the ones bitterly regretting their actions in the end.

A burly Death Eater by the name of Seth grumbles, ”They are running late.”

”No, they have arrived,” the icy voice of Rodolphus Lestrange can be heard matter-of-factly interrupted, and deliberately paused in cold contemplation. ”However, the Dark Lord is not with them.”

Dismay and relief can clearly be seen on the Death Eater's faces as they stare at the great front doors. The seconds seem impossibly long as the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall sounds far too loudly in their ears. Finally, after what seems like hours the ancient front doors swing open to reveal a group of hooded figures. Among them, the chief leading figure removes his hood to reveal the face that of a salt-peppered wizard with curly hair. His pale attractive features are twisted with viciousness to them. Especially in the depths of his light-colored eyes, there exists an unmistakable fervent madness to them.

Primus Wilkes bore a great resemblance to his deceased nephew, S.R. Wilkes. Primus bares his white teeth in a proud, vile, mad-like fashion. ”Master is on an errand and has sent us ahead to announce his glorious return,” Primus purred with great satisfaction.

The Death Eater's behind him all said in added chime, ”Master requested that we patiently wait for his grand arrival.”

Rodolphus and Dolohov's eyes narrow slightly at that word, Master. Pyrites had begun to use that word and it would seem that it would shortly become the new permanent title of the Dark Lord. However, neither man looked forward to using such a title. They had their own pride too.

Primus tilts his head at the Death Eater's behind him as they remove their hoods and move forward to mingle with those that had remained behind. Walking forward with a confident stride, Primus arrogantly comes to a halt before Lestrange, who icily stares down at him. ”Lestrange, you best watch yourself,” Primus viciously declared with a hungry smile. ”Master will no longer tolerate your displays of disobedience. You will be adequately punished for any transgressions.”