Flame walked through the forest silently, eyes moving one way then the next. She was weary, didn't even know why she came. Harshing had no control over her anymore- did he? Yet here she was, walking through the forest in the middle of the night to meet him. Why? Because he told her to. She desperately wanted to turn back, to forget the absurd business, but she couldn't

She wore her half-length, combat-style trousers in black, with a black top- showing her markings off even when meeting the enemy. She was family and proud, and to add to her message she wore her orange sash.

In a cool verge in an open in the centre of the vegetation a green-clad figure stood with his wand, like a sword at his side and his sharp mind scanning the arena for mortal minds. Beside him was the body of a hufflepuff who had stumbled a long his path, her flesh was already beginning to decay for he had been here for a few days now - living off the vegetation and nibbling on the tendons of his spoils. A cauldron was under the shade of a monkey-puzzle tree, unusually placed in a pine forest but it grew with the magic non the less.

He spotted Flame several metres away and raised a candle to signal he was there.

The single sign he had turned up was the dim light of a candle just inside her sight. It was a beacon in the darkness, a warning and a call in one. For it warned her that she was, indeed, about to face him and he was waiting for her to respond. She turned towards it, swallowing any fear for she had to be courageous before the enemy, however well he knew her. She stood before him, cold grey eyes burning with cold loathing and looking very different from when they had last seen each other- she wasn't his servant anymore.

"What?"

Harshing looked her, unmoving for a moment or two, hatred in the tear of his eyes. Then he moved and circled her like a tiger, his movements mimicking that of twilight - swift, silent footsteps, yet quick as lightning. "You think you are so powerful wearing your little orange sash, running around thinking you have some say in the world," he laughed at her, belittling everything she was or had done, "So... when did you f*ck him? I know you have Flame. I know you better than you know yourself. Little Flame has to... f*ck the Master to get anywhere. Typical, little, slut!"

His words had a harsh ring to them, he spat out each one, a fierce monster firing out a salvo of verbal fireballs.

She glared at him, as poisonous as he was in nature, for that was what blood had done to her. She blamed her mother for how she was but surely her father had something to do with it to. But her thoughts on who her father was were wrong- she had no idea of the truth and if she did it was uncertain how she would react. As he circled her head snapped around to watch him, never taking eyes off him. She trusted few, but of her list of people she trusted he was at the very bottom.

"You'll never win us, Harshing." words were cold in reply to his first sentence. He could try to get into her head again and control her, but it wouldn't work. She wouldn't fall to him again. She blinked, for she could tell he was ready to continue. "You don't know me as well as you think." she paused. "I'd already earned his respect, the respect of the family. You see these marks? They were there before he got anywhere near me." she laughed.

"You see, in my world, pain's a good thing."

Harshing looked patronisingly at her when she showed the scars. "I was forced to served a corrupt Lord for years. Don't tell me about respect and loyalty!" He sat down. "Have you not learned Flame, Sentinus is another Voldemort. He is a Narcissist, cares about no one but himself. He seeks to control us - he at the helm of a new world, free from his fears and petty hates. Sentinus is a new demon. And I will destroy him."

Flame stared at him, realising that this was just another stp in the resistance's game. First Scone, now Harshing- Flame couldn't help but wander who would be next. They were trying to turn her against the cause she had adopted as her own- the cause she served. It was a stupid game, annoying and she was begining to think they wouldn't realise they couldn't turn her. Noone could.

"Don't speak to me like that." she spat back at him, ready to defend herself and the rest of her new family. He'd tried hitting her unsucessfully, it was bound to go down this route.

"This is different. The sire is nothing like Voldemort was. The fact you think so tells me that you know little of him."

He ripped his sleeve off and showed the Dark Mark, his voice yelling now. "I have a scar too Flame, its nothing to be proud about!" He stood now, his wand out. "Nothing at all. They show our own weakness and stupidity. How we allow our selves to be cut for someone elses power trip."

He looked into the night, "I know much of Sentinus. You forget flame of my vast and powerful intellect. I know much more than you will ever know in the arts of darkness and of the rising of The Grand Sentinus. Shall I detail to you the true story of that foolish piece of dirt that calls himself "Merlin's Heir"?"

Flame pushed her own left arm back at him, smirking. "That is something to be proud of, whether you think so or not!" She laughed, not believing the fact he wasn't proud of it. Perhaps it was her upbringing that made her believe it was something to be proud of, she didn't know, but she put her own beliefs before anyone elses.

"I have more power now than I ever had with him. People respect me. They see me walking around and think 'now isn't that someone who knows her own belief'. I fight against the scum who kill for no reason. Scum like Dorien, who murder for nothing more than fun. Do you still think my cause is nothing? Then you are a fool who fights for the rights of lesser beings."

She stared at him. "I wouldn't believe a word you said."

Flame mused for a while, her mind on Tyrin, for she had recently spoke of his murderer and then she smirked. "Your room came in use since you've been gone, you know."

"Dorien is spelled with a terrible, terrible curse - prithee that you never get with it for you will be treated like a Rabid dog by your Master who has bedded you."

He started to circle her again, his eyes going that deep, psychotic red. He was a vampire with poison in his mouth, ready to strike. "I fight for my own rights. He wants to kill me for I have a power he will never have. I am a Mensmage, my powers of the mind destroyed the Dark Sorcerer Wittle. I am the last of my Order and he wants me dead. But he never shall."

Flame was cold, hateful. This man had made her life hell, in his own way, and she still held a grudge against him for that. He had caused her to do many bad things- or at least she blamed him for them though they would have been done anyway. Her mind was set against him and yet she knew he would manage to break her defences, he always did.

"I won't get that curse. If I was to get that curse I would hand myself over, I would be a danger to society. I would want to die." she snarled. But words were begining to catch in her throat as se said it, knowing that maybe she would turn against her own side if she was forced into it like that.

She backed away from him as she saw his eyes going that deep shade of red. She hated this, it scared her. But the knowledge that left his mouth was that he had never heard before.

"I know how he feels, at times."

"Now Flame, it appears it is an appropriate moment to reveal some information to you." He said, smiling at her - his eyes phosphorescent.

"Flame we are in fact of the same blood. I have conducted research into the whys and whens but they are unimportant. Years ago you were born but a year after I bedded your mother - Bellatrix Lestrange. I hated her, and she hated me yet we bedded each other to get a feeling of sleeping with the enemy. Yes, a silly notion."

He hadn't said the words but they were pretty clear. His eyes glowed, white foam coming from his mouth, his voice rancid with savagery. "You were a mistake. And now it is time for a much awaited abortion!"

He threw a belt of green light from his wand, shouting the words "Avada Kedavra."

Flame stared at him. "What could you have to tell me that's of any importance?" she laughed. She often found his 'important' information of little use and so she was ready to hear something she neither cared about or would remember. But when she looked at him he was smiling and that never happened, indeed it made her freeze in shock for a moment.

"Us, the same blood? You've made some mistake. You have it wrong. It isn't true." she thought about it and realised something- she never had met her father, and her mother had refused to tell her who it was. Could this mad story actually be true?

From that moment on it was pretty clear what he was about to do and she stood their, looking as if she had no idea until the last moment when she dodged the curse. But, filled with fright, Flame was once aain ready to fall to him once again- as long as she didn't end up dead.

"I can change. Really, I can. Don't kill me."

But it was too late. The animal, the frost angel had reached his Climax - a mad rage that was set on drawing blood. He listened yet what she said meant little. He had allowed her to live for too long as it was. The best thing that she could do was to die. Before him. And he would take her body and hold it in his arms afterwards then burn it into ashes.

His wand moved through the air so the wind whistled with each strike. He sent fourth several cutting curses. Perhaps the animal would play with his catch first...

"You will never change," his voice fed the storm. "You shall be a mindless submissive forever. Let me save the world of another loss by killing you. You are more cursed than Dorien!"

His voice was twisted and bitter, although the words were weak they were enhanced by the atmosphere, the oncoming storm and the rising wind. His eyes were mad eyes now, lolling and swiveling of there own accord - but in their tears was the tiniest glint enjoyment.

If there was one thing Flame would do in this encounter it would be escape while he was mad, or see him realise she could help him. She could help him, he could spare her life if she turned spy for him and his side. She was not going to fall worse than that. never would she fall like that.

She grabbed her own wand as she scooted back, each curse missing her by centimetres. She stared at him and once again felt hatred rise. She had to save herself. She had to, their was nothing else she would do.

Wand firmly clamped in her hand she pointed it at him. "Crucio." she muttered the curse beneath her breath, eyes begining to fill with equal hatred as his own. The clever girl was ready for anything. She was a free spirit at heart, fought for herself and did whatever she thought she had to to better herself.

Tongue rolled across painted lips as she prepared for what may be the biggest duel of her life.

He moved to the side effortlessly. The bitch was going to fight. She could not defeat him, probably the third post powerful Wizard in the world apart from Sentinus and Hans. He opened a part in his mind and then seiged her mind with legilimens, trying to get in.

While he was doing that the other part of his mind dealt with spells. Crucio. Cutting curse. Avada. Avada. Avada. Cut. Cut. Cut. Fire. The forest was ablaze with light after every curse he sent fourth within seconds of each other, a master of non-verbal spells. He sealed the arena so she couldnt escape.

He mounted a rock. A vantage point and poured down a stream of electricity onto his foe. He held his wand in both hands while he continued his surge of lightning.

He was into her mind quickly. Flame had no knowledge of occlumency as she had never taken the time to learn. She hadn't thought it would one day come in useful- or that she'd ever be in a situation like she was. Flame was the girl who tried to keep out of trouble but if it came her way she was quick to dig herself a hole. In this instance, however, it was more like a grave.

She did, however, manage to keep moving and, for the most part, avoid his spells. Her legs were hit by a cutting curse and the cut was deep, though her legs were still intact. Then fire swept around her. she was trapped and she fell into her mind which Harshing was currently in.

A single seed of doubt for her cause, created by Scone had blossomed into a flower. What she saw before her was one of the thoughts she had since their conversation. It was years in the future, generations, and yet she was still there. Faceless figures moved past and she felt a hunger for blood. Then, above the crowd he rose. Once her master, now her enemy. Grand Sentinus. She prepared for a duel she would never win. Wand held in her hand she fought bravely but she was captured and, in due course, tortured. Starved and yet still alive, in pain for he had used fire against her, but still there. Unable to do anything but be tortured day after day.

Harshing fed from the dream like memory, he watched without adding any more curses to his arsenal. He just sucked out more of the memory and analyzed them in pristine detail. Interesting. Perhaps she was now feeling guilty, learning of the truth about the vicious Sentinus.

He grappled at more memory.

A pale child with black hair and grey eyes, easily recognised as Flame, sat beside another girl, much younger than herself. The child was eight and she was eleven, about to leave for Hogwarts. The eight year old had tear-stained cheeks and looked at Flame as her idle. Flame had always been the one who cared.

Flame remembered how it had happened, how the girl had been rejected by all those she knew for she had been bitten by a werewolf and though she was not infected people were scared of her and her scarred form. She was not infected as the werewolf had not transformed.

"Don't leave me..." the girl's voice was breaking. Flame was the only one who would talk to her. "Please don't go." Flame had stroked the young girls hair and kissed her head lightly before explaining that she had to.

Flame was trying to pull from her own mind but could not. She was trapped andshe hated this.

"I will come back. You know that, right?" The young girl nodded, looking innocent. "I'll miss you. Visit as soon as you can." Flame had smiled then, though it was obvious by watching that she was holding back tears herself. "I will Tanya. Don't worry about that."

Harshing laughed at it in a mockery and triumph as he ended the legilimens curse. He stood before her, the storm subsiding. His torn green cloak flapped like an autumn leaf in the wind. He stared at her, the glow leaving his eyes slightly.

"Flame, you shall have a punishment that I cannot inflict now I have seen these memories. You will stay with the Family until it falls and be at the whim of the poisonous Master. He will conquer you, rape you, perhaps control you without you even knowing. And your conscious will hate you for it. It is a great punishment now you have reseen these memories. Perhaps you will think about what you have done or shall do."

He stepped down from the rock. "And no, you cannot come with me... daughter! You will not be offered a place in the resistance. Live with the hell you have made!"

She stared at him, both angry and upset. She was angry he had make her relive those memories, but upset she had forgotten about poor Tanya. She bit her lip sharply to stop herself attacking her father in mad rage and sighed.

"No... I won't do it... I can't." she was realising the deadly path she was walking down first willingly and now, it seemed, by force. Was he making her do what he himself had done? Serve a master she hated for years, acting the loyal servant?

"Don't make me do this..." she felt disgusted with herself already. What was she doing? Why had she gone down this ridiculous route?

"I will live with it, if only to prove I can..." she paused, as if resenting the word she was about to speak. "Dad."

"Call it me not!" His wand rose again. "I disown you utterly from this day forward. You are nothing to me and I wash my hands of thee. THe only link we have is that of blood - and even that can be changed. You have everything of your mother and nothing of me, that Is why I hate you"

He started to walk out of the forest.

Flame stared at him as he left. Then she sighed. Maybe he was right- maybe she was nothing. Eyes rolled inwards with her anger which she mastered and she watched silently as he left her alone. Now she was loosing her mind because of him but she would find a way to gain it back, changed maybe but still back. She was loosing her confidence again. "I have nothing of you because I never knew you." she muttered, believing him to be out of earshot.