The Dawn of Darkness || T. Riddle

Chapter 40: A Legendary Bond

Chapter 40: A Legendary Bond

Tom Riddle left the Manor in the early hours of the morning without a word, a trace, a notice. All he left behind was a single, vague note that had been placed upon the breakfast table directing that Abraxas would be overseeing the Death Eaters' training for the day, who had taken great pleasure in waking the Death Eaters up earlier than usual to announce his position for the day.

The bedsheets were cold when Estela awoke and noticed Riddle was not there. He was always up earlier than her, but Estela knew he'd gone somewhere that morning as his desk had been cleared of papers, his coat and gloves were no longer hanging on the door and she was sure she felt the ghost of a gentle caress of his farewelling fingers along her cheek.

There were no significant letters again that morning, just a few envelopes addressed to Tom as always which Alden slipped into his inner coat pocket for his return. And so after breakfast, Abraxas strutted in, an arrogant upturn to his chin as he beheld everyone sitting at the breakfast table, and ordered them to proceed to the courtyard to train at once.

The Manor had been a flurry of sweaty training sessions for the past week now that Tom had doubled the Death Eaters' training sessions.

When the sun shone, the Manor's courtyard and lawns would transform into duelling grounds - patches of the lush green grass scorched black from spells - gaping holes blasted into the bushes and fingers blasted off the marble statues. Everything was swiftly restored with a few repairing spells after each session, though Abraxas never failed to tense up - a small vein throbbing on his temple - each time something was broken or burned.

When it rained, the meeting room's furniture, parchment, strategic plans, maps and decorations were temporarily vanished, converting the large room into an echoey expanse perfect for practice.

Riddle had even instructed Estela to partake in most of the sessions. Daily - sometimes twice a day - duelling, cursing, strategy and endurance sessions had become the Manor's main priority. Some days, men and women that Estela had never seen before joined in with the sessions. They wouldn't say much. They'd speak in hushed tones to Riddle before and after the sessions and then leave by flying carriages from the bottom of the Manor's garden once they were done.

They must be part of the small army that Alden had told her about. They seemed like ordinary wizarding families, though their carriages were well-crafted and their clothes were finely made. More of the elite who favoured Riddle's order, no doubt. It wouldn't surprise her if some of these people were even from overseas.

Abraxas stood at the highest point of the courtyard so he could properly examine everyone - a piece of parchment floating just above his head as he watched his friends duel each other - some upon the freshly washed patio slabs, others on the expanse of neatly trimmed lawn.

Abraxas would gesture to the piece of parchment signed by Riddle each time one of the Death Eaters questioned why they had to take orders from him, a crude smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth each time they questioned his authority, and he took particular pleasure in reminding Viridian who was boss for the day. Though his authoritative condescension had been temporarily tarnished when a single magpie had swooped down out of nowhere to ruffle the top of his head.

Estela had brought down a book with her and had gone to sit on a smaller patch of grass, basking in the sunshine as she read, peering over the top of her book occasionally to glance at the Death Eaters if something interesting happened. Abraxas had tried once to get her to partake, but she refused, and it would seem that there would be no convincing her otherwise. Or that he wasn't particularly bothered whether she trained or not.