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Arranged outside of the circles were three individuals, an old balding skinny man, the woman who’s face he’d seen in the circle that had summoned him, and the face that he dreaded, the one called Lenamare. The old balding man was about six foot, but not yet bent with age, and weighed in the neighborhood of about one hundred and thirty five pounds, although it was hard to tell since he was wearing a large purple robe. His face was basically skin and bones, his nose long and pointed. He head was shaved except for a mustache and goatee. His gaze fell upon Tom, hesitant, yet determined.

The woman appeared to be in her mid-thirties. Not a great beauty, her features were too sharp for that, yet she had an aura of command about her, that he imagined would pass for strong charisma, if he were more inclined to be sympathetic with her. She was quite tall, about six-two and around one hundred and fifty pounds. Her reddish brown hair was done in a spiraling braid above her head. She wore a black gown trimmed in red, and cut and highlighted so as to reveal a good deal of her ample breasts. She stared at him in a manner of contempt, mixed with a trace of caution. By her stance she felt herself in control, but also she clearly yielded to the third person in the room.

The room’s other occupant was Lenamare. A man who Tom would not forget, a face he was sure would haunt his dreams for weeks. Lenamare was the shortest of the three at around five-ten, yet he stood tall and arrogant. Under his robe he seemed trim and slightly muscular. His gray eyes were the same color as the unknown dull gray metal brazier. His hair was a dark brown interspersed with thin hairs of white, like white crests on a dark brown ocean. Lenamare looked to be in his late forties or early fifties, yet his stance bespoke that of youthful strength and arrogance. His glance was cold, totally in control, with no room for doubt as to his mastery. It contained no possibility of ever even understanding the concept of fear, or submission.

All the pain he had felt in the color world seemed, to Tom, to be the sole responsibility of the man before him. He could easily understand how Boggy would want to obliterate his master. Tom still didn’t exactly feel like ripping Lenamare to shreds, but he certainly wouldn’t have minded returning a little of the pain that Lenamare and his associates had inflicted on him. Tom took a step closer to Lenamare, intending to try and stare the man down. Tom felt confident, that with his superior height and new found strength that he should have little trouble in intimidating this man who was five to six feet shorter than himself. However, as he stepped forward, his hoof encountered resistance. He looked down and saw that his hoof was blocked by some invisible barrier at the edge of the circle. As he looked up quickly, he caught a slight smile on Lenamare’s face which seemed to mock his attempt to get closer to the wizard. The smile seemed to be so mocking, that for an instant Tom simply wanted to smash it off the man’s face.

“Know, Demon, that thou canst not cross these barriers that we have set for thee. Thou art our servant, thou hast succumbed to my will, Thou wilst obey my orders and those of my lawful assistants,” Lenamare said commandingly to Tom.

Tom tried harder to push his foot through. When this didn’t work he stepped back and pushed with his hands against the invisible barrier. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t make the barrier even seem to flex.

“Try as you will demon, thou art trapped and thou art mine.” Lenamare smiled, and then quickly twisted his fist in a counterclockwise gesture. Pain exploded in Tom’s chest. It felt just like what he’d imagined an incredibly severe heart attack must feel like. It was almost crippling, he began to buckle, to go down on his knees, but out of the corner of one of his eyes, as he bent over, he noticed a cruel grin on Lenamare’s face. No! Tom thought, I will not give him the pleasure. Stiffly, Tom gritted his teeth and slitted his eyes. Using all of his strength, he forced his legs to straighten to their normal position, and he raised his head to stare directly into Lenamare’s eyes.

Lenamare’s grin faded, and his eyes became more serious. Eventually, after what must have been only a few more seconds, but which seemed like eternity to Tom, Lenamare nodded, and released his fist. The pain suddenly vanished from Tom’s chest. Slowly, he relaxed.

“So, Tomasedwardperkinje, be defiant. But know that was but the mildest of the tortures and pain I shall inflict on thee, if thou dost not obey my commands. Jehenna, the binding.”

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