A woman stood in the midst of the Marshes barefoot, a tender smile upon her pale lips. She smiled for her children, the Aliscowri and the two who led them here, for He Who Would Lead Them as all bowed before her. She indicated all to rise. The Dead Seed, Delorah, born into this world in the most heinous of ways stood beside the man who referred to himself as Blend. As it was with Elijah, her unsettling gaze passed over him as if seeing him for the first time.

"I will bring Chaos and death to these lands. I will assist in making Aleris ours, my Dark Mistress," Elijah said offering his allegiance."And as far as Elysia, I will leave that fun to you of course." Deanna smiled faintly at Elijah then. “My wolf, of all who shall bow before me, I value you most."

“Jalaephon Delai,” Deanna began as she approached the man and the cannibalistic Aliscowri who remained kneeling before her. “You shall play a very important role in my New World Order. You shall lead my children,” she gestured to the Aliscowri, “and encourage more Dead Seed to our ranks. I am sure you will not disappoint me, Jalaephon.” Her smile was terrible then as she stood before him, placing a hand upon his shoulder and giving it a little squeeze even as Blend regarded her in the most curious of manners. Deanna arched a brow in question before releasing him instantly. Amber orbs surrounded by a dusky ring of crimson swept from Blend’s as she stared off into the thick haze of the Shadow Marshes.

“We have visitors.”

It was then that the demonic Gethe approached accompanied by the shuffling group of what appeared to be human offerings, their eyes glazed over as they seemingly accepted their miserable fate, Deanna couldn’t help but smile. Gethe immediately followed the suit of Delorah and the Aliscowri as he dropped to his knees and proclaimed his own servitude, smiling to reveal the razor sharp teeth he possessed. “Command you, I shall.”

Deanna glanced at the dejected group who finally snapped out of their stupor, staring at the group with wide horrified eyes, their expressions of terror. She tilted her head to the side as she regarded the pathetic humans.

The Dark Goddess indicated for Gethe to rise and gestured for the demon to take his place beside Blend and the Aliscowri. “You brought gifts. How thoughtful. “ She breezed past Gethe, Blend and the Aliscowri to where Elijah stood. “My children must be hungry. I believe Shimmer Town will provide them with an accommodating meal, though…” she spared a glance at the thirty-five slaves brought by the demon. She considered allowing the Aliscowri to feed upon the humans when Elijah spoke up.

"Forgive me, My Mistress, but please allow me to make a suggestion," Elijah started, a hand waving towards the frightened slaves. "Why not let me infect them with my venom, to have them change to therianthrope. This would give us a bigger army to take over with Aleris with."

Deanna noted that Elijah took great satisfaction inspiring terror within the slaves with his words if not by his appearance alone. The Dark Woman turned her attention toward the undead Bluefield and placed a slim pale hand against the side of his face. Matted hair began falling out in clumps where her fingers stroked, decaying flesh sloughed against his skull. “A wise decision, Elijah. New additions for my army, and playthings for you. They shall be yours, and you, my wolf shall be mine.” Her ashen lips twisted into a smile that dripped nothing but wicked intentions. “I am your Queen, and you shall be my consort.” Her voice dropped then into a seductive whisper. “I shall make you whole once more, Elijah.”

With those words, black lightening crackled from her fingertips as the gentle hand upon his decomposed face pressed against his head, burning and charring the dead skin and hair. Slowly, methodically, flesh began to knit together, what was once grey and dying became pink and healthy. Fur grew in thick and full. The eye that had been removed so cruelly by Verial Akilara formed and solidified in that once empty socket. Only one side of his face was born anew and complete, but it was a start. The entire process took nothing short of a few minutes, and would be considerably painful, but the end result was well worth it.

Wordlessly, Deanna withdrew her hand, leaving her wolf to examine his partially healed face and revel in the power she displayed, her attention drawn away as a new stranger entered into her line of sight. Covered in filth, he rambled on in that drunken manner of his, shouting obscenities at a bat who bore a ridiculous name. Deanna studied him with those alien eyes of hers, her expressionless features gave nothing away to what she was thinking. If this man, this arraki thought to steal upon them in “coincidence”, he was more a fool than he was acting. Why he had chosen this false drunken pretense, was unknown to her, for as she studied this hulking man, she took note that although his demeanor indicated inebriation, his eyes were clear, taking in all that he saw.

He was of Chaos, or at the very least, of the darkness. This was no ordinary human male, for all the farcial manner he portrayed. Gethe stood off to the side with Blend and Delorah, followed by the slaves whom would soon become her servants, her army, in their terrified state of being. Her beloved children, the Aliscowri rose as one, sporting feral expressions, their eyes hungry for this rather large man who dared to invade their business ready to attack.

“No.”

The simple command carried clear throughout the swampy setting and Deanna watched as the Alicowri halted in their actions, parting on either side so that could make her way toward the arraki stranger, flanked by Elijah. She watched with great amusement as the bat flew away with seemingly harmless intentions. Seemingly.

Deanna circled invader with casual graceful movements, regarding him curiously. Very clever, she thought to herself as her nostrils flared delicately. Had her Aliscowri attacked, and most likely attempt to devour such a tasty meal, they would have found themselves ingesting acidic flavored blood. A useful defense mechanism to be sure, but hardly a match for Deanna and her army. Sure some would perish, but the arraki would not be able to hold off all before becoming nothing more than a bloodied husk, sinking into the Marshes like those who came before him.

With a gesture of hand, she indicated for Blend and Gethe to lead the Aliscowri and the slaves in a southern direction. Elijah remained at her side as she turned to face the arraki, addressing him for the first time since his comical arrival.

“You will not die by my hand, Soul.” She spoke in that deceptively sweet voice of hers, plucking at his thoughts for his identity. “Not today at least. Let it not be said I am not generous.” She did not introduce herself, for he would know soon enough of the Dark Queen who would take Aleris by storm.

Deanna raised her hands palm up, her eyes closing. Low chanting could be heard in a language that had been long forgotten. From the watery marshland dark mist began to form, solidifying to encircle Soul, obscuring his vision. Within these mists were ghostly figures, restless spirits of pure evil that reached out toward Soul, hungry for the life force he emanated. Life that was ultimately denied to these vengeful wraiths of Dark Chaos.

“As I said before, you will not die by my hand,” A low throaty chuckle could be heard from Deanna. “Theirs, I cannot speak for, though I am sure eventually you’ll find means to escape.” Her head tilted to the side as she watched with fascination as the Spirits of the Marsh began clawing at Soul’s filth encrusted clothing, their low pitiful moans and cries music to her ears as the arraki was busy avoiding their grasp. Should the ghostly figures manage to hold onto Soul long enough, they would drain him of his very essence. She had every faith that the arraki would ultimately find means to escape, but for now, it would delay him long enough to avoid his interference.

“That little display with the bat? It was highly entertaining, I’ll admit,” she called out to him. “Though what exactly did you hope to accomplish, Soul? You cannot save them, surely you must know that. My will shall be done.”
She linked her arm through Elijah’s decaying one and began to follow her army due south, toward Shimmer Town.

“Oh and Soul,” she called out to him, peering over her shoulder. “Remember my kindness, for the next time I see you, you had best come before me on your knees, either to serve….

…or to die.”

Gethe was permitted to rise after the dark mistress accepted his allegiance. The werewolf's suggestion was very pleasing to hear because, humans could only bleed so much. If you turn them into a therianthrope however, they go from a onetime meal to an all you can eat buffet. "They will not resist unless you want them to, of course." His laughter rang loudly as he enjoyed the vision of them being ripped apart with screams of pain.

He noticed the dark one was not too skilled with the healing arts she focused more on surface injuries. She didn't even finish with those because Elijah still had half of his face necrotized. He would admit raising someone from the undead was beyond his power as he worked on the living. Gethe wondered if he ate her would he be able to do that as well. Draining beings of her power level was a time consuming process but, his power always increased dramatically. If he wasn't chained to this shell they would be more evenly matched. The mistress would likely win at this time however, so he needed to wait until she was weakened enough.

The drunken fool stumbled into their midst as he thought about repairing the rest of the damage to Elijah. He could smell the strangers acidic blood from sixty feet away. The demon cringed inwardly at the useless man who couldn't even feed his hunger. However, Gethe recognized an arraki when he met one. He had tried one a few hundred years ago and, they gave him no nourishment. It was best to kill them quickly with as little mess as possible, they were no fun at all. He was certain of one thing though that lump of enchanted flesh was not even slightly drunk. The amount of alcohol needed would be a lot more than those two little flask could hold.

As a healer Gethe knew how to exploit the weaknesses of his victims because to fix them you had to know how they were broken. Not to mention experimenting with living subjects always led to interesting results. He fondly remembered some of his greatest work had been designed in Nirdor. He was prepared to strike the arraki's vitals with condensed blast of darkness that would drain his essence without a mark. Suddenly, the dark mother summoned a legion of evil spirits from the marsh to devour the immortal. She had commanded him to lead her small army with the mortal she called Blend to the south so he went.

First he used the spirits as power line straight to the arraki fool and seized on some of the darkness in his heart and, spoke to his mind. "I can save you immortal just ask. It will only cost you your soul a small price, isn't it for one who can live forever." Gethe left an undeniable command in one of the spirits that would insure it was the last to vanish if the arraki managed to stop them himself, so that he could know if the immortal answered at all. This all took place at the speed of thought as he marched away at his mistress' command.

The dark queen’s voice was soft like velvet but he could see in her eyes that she would try and kill him in an instant. Soul’s eyes shift color to their normal dark crimson as she says his name. He did not recognize her but he figured she had some way of knowing things that others didn’t. He doesn’t speak even as the others are shooed away and the mist begins to rise from the mud. The darkness puts no fear in his heart nor do the spirits that begin to emerge from the mist.

“When we meet again I will be stopping you.” The arraki barely whispered as the dark queen vanished from view and the arraki stood slowly wiping the mud off his hands.

He heard the message in his mind and a small grin played on his lips, “Careful now demon wouldn’t want your new master thinking you are doing things without her permission. “ The arraki chuckled shrugging the coat off his shoulders.

His seven foot form is for the most part three hundred and fifty pounds of hardened muscle but his immortal powers obviously give him strength far beyond a human even of equal size his body is also covered in a couple dozen runes of an ancient elven language each giving him the ability to tap into a certain magic. Though he was unpracticed in most so usually a weakened version was what was produced, much like the mind control of Captain Jefferson.

The arrakis spine has a faint red glow to it where the blade known as Obstinata wraps around the bone the blades metal fused with his body. The blade was crafted in ancient times when realms were young; the demon god Kakoc-Quy had crafted the blade for his ancient plans to conquer the young living world. It had absorbed a thousand screaming souls into the demon skull that made up the hilt filling the cavity with energy that Kakoc-Quy would use upon his enemies.

The blade had been stripped from the demons hands many centuries later by an Elven shaman and inscribed with the magic of the world. The blade had almost become sentient in the process the souls within wishing to reclaim their living rights. The human army had marched against the elves centuries later and the blade had been used for evil by the human King Tyvril. A group of soldiers had defeated the king in battle and along with an Elven elder had placed the sword in a tomb within Vesnic-monte. It had been then sealed with water and given a guardian.

This is where the arraki had found it and bonded with the weapon, his natural abilities had been a perfect fit for the blades own potential. Together they were a force to be heeded as dangerous. The relationship came at a price. Souls own essence and soul were bonded to the blade and with his counter parts trapped within it as well this left the arraki with the inability to separate with the blade even if he wanted to without certain destruction of his living form.

“I cannot sell my soul for it is no longer mine to give.” He whispers feeling the blade almost snarl back at the sender of the message through the spirit it has connected itself too. A slight pain would prickle the mind of Gethe, no more than a split second of a small bug bite but it was there. Obstinata was possessive of its arraki host and it would make sure the demon understood who Soul belonged to. Its automatic defenses activate as the wraiths cold touch slide onto the arrakis skin and Soul agrees with its idea.

Some would say the sword controlled him but he lifts his own hands and channels the blades energy. A hundred souls within the blade as destroyed their pure energy bursting in waves of brilliant white into the spirits. Though not of this world the energy sears them, it’s pure and goodness harming their evil tearing them from the world of the living and back into the depths where they belong. The light gets brighter destroying the mist.

For a moment the nearby swamp is lit like the surface of the sun and a moment later the light turns to normal and the arraki slumps to a knee panting heavily. For the queen of darkness and the demon were right he was of Chaos and the shadows his blood line and life were tainted with the underworld and of dark ritual. But there was one thing Soul had never allowed himself to become and that was a slave of the shadows.

“That was fun..” He panted talking to Obstinata as the blade coursed a fresh burst of energy from another soul into his body, “You know I hate when you do that.” The arraki preferred regaining his strength on his own but creating the pure energy had taken a lot out of him, a dark creature summoning good energy was like trying to conduct electricity through ancient dry wood.

He pushes himself up to his feet looking in all directions, “Well it would be useless to follow them now, not in this state. I should have attacked when I had the chance.” He pants slowly bending to pick his up his tattered coat. “Oh what I’d give to have a wyvern right now.” He mutters turning to a more easterly direction.

“I need to warn whoever rules this place of what comes, who knows if that stupid bat made it.” The arraki grumbles stretching his body. “Why couldn’t she just let the undead creatures attack me? They would have been so much easier to deal with.”

Obstinata courses another soul through his body slowly medicating and healing the arraki as he begins his stiff walk in the direction of Grand City. He had been able to tell there was a battle recently, the arraki just hoped that they were ready for a seemingly round two the arraki was strong but he wouldn’t be able to do this alone especially not if the queen raised an army.

For a few hours he waited up in the castle's Observatory to meet with his friend Maxim Redmont. At long last, a guard entered the Observatory and let Verial know that the Lord Commander of Bariston was nowhere to be found. Verial arched a brow in question as the guard was dismissed, leaving the Protector Regent once more to himself. Briefly, Verial entertained the thought that maybe Maxim might have had the same vision or dream that he had; that maybe Maxim had seen the white tiger as well. Perhaps Maxim had gone to Deanna's grave, something that Verial had not dared to do again. His odd colored eyes flickered to the hand on his lap, the one that was still tinged with bruises, wondering what to make of it all.

Verial turned back around in the stool he sat in, gazing out across the sleeping city without the use of the telescope. As he took in a long breath, out of the corner of his eye something huge and bright flashed from the north. Sure, Arthuran was quite a distance away from Eiler, but in the middle of the dark night, Verial saw the sky lit up as if the sun was casting light across The Shadow Marshes. This light flickered for a few moments and then disappeared, submerging the snowy land into blackness again.

What was that?

Just then, Verial considered that perhaps he should worry about other things, like the mysterious light over Arthuran, rather than his dream. With the notion that Maxim would find him if he ever got his message, Verial left the Observatory and headed out of the southwest towers towards Layla's room. He moved up the stairs to the northeast wing of the castle and when he got to Layla's room, Verial nodded to acknowledge the two guards that stood vigilant outside her doors. As he lifted his hand that was not bruised to knock on her door, he was stopped by the guards.

"Excuse me for saying so, My Lord, but the Lady of Bariston is currently sleeping," one of the guards said, his voice having a hint of nervousness to it.

Verial looked at him questioningly his hand still paused from knocking on the door. "I bet you 500 gold she's not," Verial said.

"Uhh.. what...? My Lord..."

Verial looked at the one guard skeptically and could have sworn he heard the other guard chucking a little from beneath his helmet.

"I don't think I should gamble with the -"

"Then we are in agreement?" Verial said and before the man could stop him any further, Verial lightly knocked on one of the walnut double doors to Layla's bedchambers.

The guard beside him groaned, almost as if in agony, hoping he wouldn't get reprimanded for Verial disturbing the slumbering Lady of Bariston. There was a slim chance Layla was actually asleep, but Verial doubted it. And even if she was, apologies could always be made. There was something about that light in Arthuran. As Verial was not a native to Aleris, he needed talk to someone else to see if this was a normal occurrence in Elysia's snowy lands. Layla, having been born in Aleris, seemed to be the obvious choice.

Then again, part of him just wanted to see the Lady of Bariston as well, despite the late hour.

It had been a very long time since Elijah was worth a damn to anyone except of course the other lackeys below him in the Bluefield family. So when Deanna said she valued him the most, Elijah was both taken aback, wondering if she was jesting, and then was filled with a certain sort of pride that made him want to go right out and leave a bloody trail of corpses across the entire realm of Aleris.

Nevertheless, he was not the only star of the show. Jalaephon Delai, the sailor that brought the Aliscowri to The Shadow Marshes was going to continue leading the cannibals. Then there was the unexpected demon Gethe who was now part of the Dark Mistress' ranks. It was a small group, but with his help, certainly their army would grow quickly. In fact, Deanna had wholly accepted his suggestion about turning Gethe's 35 slaves into therianthropes. His decayed muzzle was pulled into a grin when she even named him his consort. This... this could be interesting.

As if to give a sampling of her abilities and what she was capable of, Deanna lifted her hand to Elijah's face and obsidian colored lightening crackled from her fingertips. Dead skin and hair burnt away and in its place fur and live flesh grew once more, something he hadn't felt in ages. She even went so far as to heal the eye that had been taken out by Verial Akilara. After she was finished, Elijah glanced down into the murky waters of the swamp. Though his reflection was obscured, it was clear that Deanna had indeed healed him partially.

"Thank you, my Queen," Elijah said turning his gaze back towards her. "I look forward to pleasing you so that you may restore me fully."

As for the wandering, drunken man, Deanna stepped forward. Elijah, of course, was close to her side should anything happen. He was now her protector. Deanna waved for Blend and Gethe to lead the Aliscowri and the slaves to the south in the direction of Shimmer Town. After the group had disappeared, Deanna brought forth dark mist that materialized into evil spectres. These ghosts swarmed Soul, eager to drain his life force. Elijah didn't ever have a need stop Soul. When Deanna was done, she linked her arm with his and then turned away from Soul, leaving the man to his own miserable fate in the swamps.

Once they had departed from Soul and were on their way, catching up with the rest of the make-shift army, Elijah looked down to Deanna. He took his arm away and then bowed down to his Dark Queen. Nodding, he tilted his head towards the slaves as they were a few feet away now, unbeknownst that Deanna and Elijah had caught up to them.

"Excuse me, my Queen," Elijah said. "It is time to spread the revelation throughout those miserable, human slaves. It will be quite the show."

With that, Elijah bounded off with unexpected speed for an undead werewolf. Coming up from behind, the beastly therianthrope leapt past the Aliscowri, Blend and Gethe and dived into the middle of the slaves. As Elijah was a massive, 12 foot wall of a wolf, he grabbed onto at least four of the slaves at a time, drawing them in with razor sharp talons. Soiled pieces of clothing, ripped to shreds from his claws, fluttered to the ground covered in blood as Elijah bit wherever he could. He clamped into skin, bit through bone and injected venom deep within their bloodstream. Screams and cries rose over The Shadow Marshes, sounds so loud that they almost carried over the Oblivion Mountains.

It was often difficult for Elijah to stop feeding, to make himself not finishing putting the slaves out of their misery. It was enjoyable to watch some one's heartbeat end as you held the desperate thumping vessel within the palm of your hand. When it was done, the slaves were all writhing in agony and shuddering violently on ground of The Shadow Marshes. Elijah, fully soaked in blood now, looked towards the rest of his company - Blend, Gethe and the Aliscowri - and with a smile, wiped some of the blood from his muzzle.

As the group stared at each other, a bright light quite unlike anything Elijah had ever seen lit up the entire swamp revealing just how much blood was shed in the last few minutes. He shielded his eyes from the blinding whiteness and when it was over, looked for his Mistress who was stepping towards the ghastly scene that Elijah had made. Undoubtedly, this unusual light had been from Soul.

"Shall we go after him, My Lady?" Elijah said craning his head towards Deanna.

Behind him, the 35 slaves that he had nearly decimated all started to stir. Though they moaned, their bodies protesting, eventually as they stood they started to transform. Therianthrope beasts – wolves enhanced beyond the average shifter - formed a frightening wall on the other side of the Aliscowri. The good thing about his undead form was that his blood - his therianthrope venom - was much more potent and turned people quicker. Elijah lifted his hand to the newly formed soldiers.

"Our children," Elijah said acknowledging their blood-thirsty faces. "You have been given a new life - a new chance to rein terror upon these lands. Now, bow to your Queen, your Dark Mistress."

In surprising unison and devotion, the therianthropes all bowed at once to Deanna. But the questions was, were they so eager to serve or was Deanna's power just that tempting and alluring?

It seems another power had claim on the arraki's soul how disappointing. Gethe found it strange that he hadn't sensed it before. The being must have cloaked itself until jealousy got the better of it. He couldn't tell if it was a demon or something else which confused him greatly. No matter it was welcome to its' prey. Gethe would just have to devour it first when he saw the immortal again. That white energy was a worry, he would need to be careful light was his opposing force. That is why he blocked Nirdor's sun it had reduced his power annoyingly. However, his fleshy transportation protected him from the weakening effects of Aleris' sunlight. When the sun goes down his power doubles and, he can do much more fun things without expending nearly as much energy.

He could smell Elijah and the dark mother approach because blood always tells him what is coming as long as it was within sixty feet of his power. Gethe's slaves extended his range from themselves since he had taken them into his influence. He could be wrong but, he doubted another undead werewolf would be sneaking up on them. Not to mention he had never smelled a more desirable scent than his mistress. He fantasized of chaining her to his operating table and spending quality time giving her every sense endless pain.

The slaves were delightfully unaware of their approach so for entertainment he let go of their minds so that Elijah could have fun. Their screams were so primal that it was the most beautiful music he had heard in awhile. So much blood made Gethe very hungry he summoned his long knives. They started to dance around him as they went around draining the fresh fluids to feed him. While they worked he summoned darkness to his empty hands and healed any of the slaves that had near fatal injuries. Their new therianthrope bodies made it much easier to heal them as the virus took hold. He found that some of them tried to resist but, he made sure they wouldn't succeed.

He restored his mental control at the same time that Elijah commanded them to bow to their new queen. So he watched his puppets bow in unison as Gethe's mental order forced compliance. They had each grown several feet after the change. Their bodies were covered in hair that was the same as each ones' original hair color. Suddenly he got a delightful idea as he watched the creatures but, he needed to wait until night.

Once the small army rested for the day Gethe stole away into the darkness cloaked in his power. He found a small clearing a few miles from their campsite and created a portal to Nirdor small but acceptable. He called to his children the savage lions he called Galuwrath. They had mountain lion heads the size of a beer keg and, muzzles full of razor sharp teeth meant for ripping and tearing. Their hides were thick with a dull gold color. Galuwrath had claws just as sharp as their teeth, three inches in length and, black in color. They were all nine feet tall and five hundred pounds of pure muscle. Ten stepped thru led by one of his scout commanders named Donovan. The man had close cropped blond hair, blue eyes, olive skin, and a strong build around two hundred and fifty pounds. He wielded a pair of long swords currently sheathed at his sides. The six foot five inch man knelt at his masters feet along with his charges.

"Thank you master for calling me shall the rest of the army cross now." The true fanatic served Gethe of his own will so no power was expended to keep him in line. He was a slave commander who had his soldiers well in hand.

"No Donovan, they will wait I want to see what these Alerians can do to destroy themselves." His evil laugh echoed in the clearing. "You will come with me to observe, and serve the dark queen as she desires until I tell you otherwise." He met the foolish mortals eyes as he spoke demanding compliance.

"Yes master as you desire." Donovan felt blessed that his god held him in such high regard.

"You are simply a scout that I found seeking the dread mothers call to serve." As a safe guard he shielded the mortals mind with his own power. Donovan only remembered the command he was just given and his name all else was blank except his combat abilities. "Now Donovan lets' go see the dread mother you came seeking."

"We'll stop here for the night," Blend said to Kotik, a muscle-bound Aliscowri whose gargantuan stature was comparable to Soul's. He was shirtless, and a strap of tanned leather ran across his chest and carried his sword against his hip and a knife against his lower back. Scars covered his chest, and one such mark was pink and fresh - a star-shaped burn mark that coated his right shoulder in scarred flesh, surely earned during the assault on the Grand City.

The sun had set, and Blend was growing exhausted. The day had been trying. After he witnessed the gruesome scene as Elijah Bluefield converted the thirty-five humans, Blend had marched the Aliscowri twenty more miles towards Shimmer Town. They headed due south, towards the coast and the land of bridge that Heruin sailors often called the Demon's Walkway. The area was aptly named, especially from a sailing perspective - violent storms often swept through the ocean there with unpredictable ferocity, in spite of the protective bay which crowded the eastern ocean.

Traveling by land was equally as dangerous. The rapidly changing environment which contrasted the northern marshes or Arthuran with the chilled grasslands and forests of Elved created a harsh and unforgiving landscape. As the ground grew drier, it became rocky and trechearous underfoot. Bizarre creatures, found here and nowhere else, lived in abundance. Chilled coastal winds swept through the landscape, promising a bitter night curled next to the fire.

Blend would love to hike through the Devil's Walkway overnight, but his legs were burning. Instead they began setting up a makeshift camp, not unlike the many camps they'd used when hiding as fugitives on Eiler. Leaves were gathered up and used as bedding, with leather rolls laid on top. It was the closest thing to comfort they were like to get. While Kotik hunched over a pyramid of kindling with a wooden dowel, Blend sat down on his bed and watched the Aliscowri work.

Watching the man struggle to start a fire, Jelaephon Delai drifted into sleep.

--

Two chains tugged at him, one for each arm. They were attached to his wrists with stone clasps - his right wrist was encircled by a glistening crystal, his left wrist had been contained within blood-red granite. They yanked and dug against Blend, pulling him apart, trying to tear him in two.

He looked down the length of the chain on his left. Red links of stone stretched as far as he could see, leading off into the horizon where violent black clouds danced dangerously across the sky. Hundreds of figures pulled on the chain, most so far they seemed as ants to him. But some were closer. Massive demons, skeletons, and horrors all wrenched on the chain. He realized with a start that many of these figures were people he knew. Elijah Bluefield had his canine feet planted firmly in the ground and was growling brutally as he pulled against the granite. Delorah, the Dead Seed, was closer than Elijah and yanked with pitiful tugs against the chain while Kotik and other Aliscowri assisted. Gethe was baring his teeth in a silent roar as his muscles flexed with the effort of tugging the chain. Nearer still, there was Deanna, her face contorted with rage and effort. Terra Vale and her undead labored as well against Blend's restraints. Closest to him, Djarin pulled on a link with his missing hand.

All of them had one thing in common. They were denizens of Chaos and they were also destructive. 'Aspected to Destruction', the Guardian of Chaos might have explained. They were all bound to brutality, to fire and death.

And I in turn am bound to them, Blend realized, staring at the massive chain which tried to drag him down the path of destruction.

The right chain, made of the pure glimmering crystal, held a different cast of figures. The right chain trailed off into the horizon as had the left, but the sky on this side was calm and serene, with beautiful birds drifting through the wind. The figures that tugged on this chain weren't frightening at all. He recognized among them his mother (though she had died twelve years ago), Ternal the Kharl'at, the healer from his village named Mezra Warmhands, and even King Alerion.

They want to pull me towards Order, he thought, but he instantly knew that was wrong. No, they want to pull me towards Creation.

Thousands of figures, struggling for his soul, pulling him this way and that to lead him towards their own goals. Left, or right? Destruction, or creation...

Blend planted his feet into the ground and yanked viciously on both of the chains. To his surprise they snapped from his wrists, and the thousands of figures on his left and right sides stumbled and fell as the chain went slack in their arms.

"I will not be pulled," Blend called out, his brown eyes staring over the faces that flanked him with a direct fury. "And I will go neither left, nor right."

Blend took a step forwards...



...and woke up.

Tempesturo's chariot hadn't galloped out of the underworld yet to illuminate the earth, but sunrise wasn't far off. Three hours, at the least. Blend was stiff as a board, and the fire from their camp had gone out long ago. Fighting back a shiver, Blend rose and began collecting the bedding. With a roll of leather in his arm, Blend hollered out.

"Rise and shine, you hungry bastards. We've got us a feast to attend."

Shimmer Town wasn't that far away, now.


--


The water moccasin had shed his skin, not once but five times. Shedding his soul was a slower and more painful process, and flakes of it peeled away slowly to dissipate in the thick swampy air. Each bit of his soul screamed in agony and pleaded with the snake for mercy, but the reptile resisted with brutal efficiency. Efficiency was in his nature, honed by millions of years of selection. Besides, like his skin, the snake realized the shedding of his soul would continue until complete even if he resisted - the process was begun, it was too late.

He was growing too big for his burrow, and had taken to the habit of resting with his head outside so he could lay comfortably. It wasn't enough. He had to find a new home.

The viper slithered out of the hole in the tree. He was larger than the biggest water mocassins, which could stretch out at six feet long. He was already eight feet, his black body thick yet sleek. His scales had darkened considerably, not surprising for a growing water moccasin, but the patterns hidden in his dark scales had changed from predictable bands into chaotic spirals. Occasionally, a red scale glittered in bold contrast to the black, the feature apparently random and giving him a speckled appearance.

He flicked his tongue out and caught a scent. It was a new flavor, but he was immediately familiar with the undertones which laced the sense. Chaos. He headed into the marshy water, following the scent south.

Another piece of the reptile's soul flaked off painfully and faded into oblivion.

Sand still radiating the heat of the day's sun warmed the soles of her feet, a trail of footsteps leading behind her across the gentle dunes to the Arabian style estate she now called home. Before her lay the expanse of the island she lived on, inhabited only by herself and her husband, Valorius, the golden sand ending with the shore. Close enough to be visible even to the human eye lay the opposite shore of Heruin itself, the Alerian ocean separating them by only a few miles. The moon overhead provided ample light though its illumination was not required for her to see clearly. The gentle lapping of the ocean against the shore was all that was heard in the otherwise still evening. That was the problem..it was too quiet.

It had been the obvious choice, settling on Heruin, the continents desert landscaping familiar, comforting to her in this time of transition. They'd arrived to find their land and estate prepared, but the world itself not as it once was. It took only a day or two to determine what had befallen the land of Aleris, they'd arrived on the heels of a war that had decimated the population, a population that now desperately tried to rebuild. Only...it wasn't over. Not yet. Something told her there was far more to come in the war for control of Aleris.

Across the water the moon lit he shore of Heruin, the continent nearly devoid of inhabitants. She'd yet to see another person within the desert though she knew well enough that most desert dwellers would not be found if they did not wish to be. Still, she sensed very little life energy moving about the sands leading her to believe any neighbors they might have were few in number and far from their island. Something was out there though. Not necessarily on Heruin, but rather...beyond it. For now. Whatever was out there would not remain where it was for long.

It was what had drawn her from her home this evening, the sense that something was looming in the distance. Something sinister, something filled with malevolence. It was that malevolence that called to her, that made her hunger to consume it. The changes taking place within her were more than physical, more than mental, she was more her father's daughter now than she'd ever been and while most assumed that meant she would be more like Asty they were only half right. It had been Nax who had sired her.

The wind picked up, catching the ends of her hair and pulling the hip length white tresses into a frantic dance around her body. Black satin embroidered with shimmering green thread was tied about her hips, held at her left hip with a small dagger, the garment hanging sarong style to the ground, leaving her legs bare when she walked. It too joined the wind's dance, leaving her legs bare to the elements though she seemed not to notice. She wore no top to complete her out fit, her breasts covered instead by multiple strands of onyx and emerald beads in various lengths from her neck to her waist. And though she was on their island still she wore the mask that hid her features from the nose up.

Behind the mask glowing green eyes flared suddenly at the sensation of energy, pure energy being released in a sudden burst. The actions of a person defending their lives, she guessed, the light that flared on the horizon only confirming what she'd already felt. Arthuran. Whatever it was had not reached the sands of Heruin, yet, judging by the distance and location of the flash of light. Again she knew it was only a matter of time before the sources of the darkness attempted to lay claim to Heruin along with Arthuran and the rest of Aleris.

She had not come to Aleris to be the savior of the world but something told her she would not be inclined to kneel at the feet of whoever was marching across Aleris and, quite frankly, had no intentions of doing so. Aleris may end up with her help by default as it would be a cold day in Heruin before she kissed anyone's ass and those doom and gloom, look how spooky evil and scarey I am types always demanded their asses be kissed. Like hell.

Turning from the shore she began to trace her steps back across the sandy landscape, her eyes fixed to the estate in the distance, the place she now called home with her husband. At first light she'd make arrangements to have the rest of the island purchased as between the two of them they owned only half of the property they enjoyed. That would allow them to erect certain...defenses. Defenses that might not otherwise be possible if others owned the land they needed to defend.

They had chosen Aleris, Heruin specifically, to be their new home, to be the place where they started over and found a life just for the two of them. She had no idea who led this coming assault on Aleris but she did know they were going to get more than they had bargained far.

Ameerah Made It About A Dozen Steps Or So Back Up The Shoreline Before He Was Standing Just Off To The Side Of The Path She Had Taken. Some Time Ago Had He Been In That Exact Spot In The Wake Of The Negative Forces That Now Saturated The Land He Might Have Been Standing Tall And Visibly Full Of Purpose, Driven By Altruistic Ideals That It Never Occurred To Him To Question. Those Reactions Had Been Heavily Influenced By The Guidance Of His Family And Their Need To Help Him Make Sure That Whatever He Did, It Always Came From A Selfless Place. For Years He Was So Convinced That There Wasn't A Need To Embrace Both Sides Of Himself. People Leaned More Towards Their Good Or Bad Inclinations All The Time, So Why Couldn't He Choose In The Same Way They Did?

Because He Was Not Like Other People. He Was Not A Person, Not Technically. Ameerah Was, She Was Born Of Two Flesh And Blood Sources. The Power Of Their Parents Was Passed Down To Her, But It Had Hybridized With The Organic Nature Of Them As Well. He, However, Had Come Later. His Father Adapted No Mortal Guise And His Mother Had Long Since Let Her Own Essence Be Joined With Astynax When They Brought Him Into Being. Truth Be Told His Very Creation Had Been A Gamble, And The Fact He Existed At All In Any Way That Could Be Considered Observant Of The Laws Of Nature Was Unprecedented. So, The Simple Fact Was If Not Even His Parents Had Known What Would Become Of Him – Would He Ever Figure It Out Himself?

Questions Like That Went Nowhere. You Would Either Learn What You Are And Become What You Strive To Be, Or You Would Not. And Right Now He Was Deciding Just Who And What He Wanted To Be. The Concept Of Good And Evil Had Become Such Old Hat To Him That Frankly He Was Sick Of It. And If He Had Learned Anything During The Brief Years Of His Ongoing Existence It Was That Life Was Rarely As Black And White As “Good” Or “Evil” Would Lead Someone To Believe. Sometimes Evil Things Were Done With Good Intentions, And Sometimes Acts Of Kindness Were Just A Means To A More Malicious End. There Always Seemed To Be An Ever Present Gray Area..

...And That Is Where He Now Found Himself. Standing Between Two Extremes, Drawn Equally To Both. But It Wasn't As Simple As A War Going On Between The Good And Evil Or Light And Dark Of Him. It Was A Much More Universal Conflict, An Inevitable War Of Balance As It Were. It Came Down To Positive And Negative, Presence And Absence. The Want To See A Thriving World, To Feel A Positive Ebb And Flow Circulate Throughout The Realm. And Then The Necessity Of Removing All Of It. Not Burn It Down, Not Close It In His Hand, Not Rule It, But To Undo All Of It – Everything And Everyone Until Nothing Remained, Not Even Himself. That Was The True Nature Of Negative, The Purest Essence Of What Many Called “Darkness”.

Evil Was Not Darkness, Evil Was Selfishness And Self Indulgence Trying To Mask Itself As Something Dark And Abysmal. And That Was One Of The Common Misconceptions That Actually Made Him Angry. If A Being Has The Dark Inside Them, If It Carries True Oblivion In Its Heart Than It Doesn't Lust For Power, It Has No Need For Revenge, Such Notions Are Meaningless To The Void. It Necessitates Only One Thing, It Exists For One Purpose – To Wipe Clean The Slate Which Creation Has Filled.

There He Stood With His Hands In The Pockets Of His Denim Coat. He Glanced To Ameerah Only Briefly And That Was When She Finally Would Have Looked Directly At Him. He Gave Her A Loving Smile, A Smile That Came When It Was Just The Two Of Them. After That He Was Looking Behind Her And Across The Water Towards Heruin. What The Continent And Vast Distance Might Have Hid His Less 'Physically Restricted' Senses Saw All Too Well. Energy Came In Potent And Concentrated Waves From Some Ways Deep Into The Mainland. It Passed Across The Sky In Ripples Of Onyx, Lessening In Its Density The Further It Spread. As He Watched It Roll Across The Clouds He Knew He Didn't Need To Ask If Ameerah Saw It As Well. Even If She Didn't Experience It As He Did He Knew There Was No Way Such An Output Of Force Would Go Unnoticed By Her, Energy In All Its Various Forms Was Something They Both Understood On A Deeper Level Than Most. Instead Of Asking A Pointless Question He Instead Took A Few Steps Forward Across The Sand Until He Was Following The Path She'd Made To The Shoreline, Speaking As He Passed Her.

”Do you think they ever realize? All that ambition, all that want for more power and more control...they're still just ants on a hill. One world, one realm, Hell...a million worlds, a million realms, it's still insignificant...” He Took Another Step Or Two Forward As His Hands Slipped Free Of The 2 Pockets And The Left Came Up For Him To Glance At Before Running Back Through His Hair. ”If a single God can't control it all..if an entire pantheon of Gods are just as incapable of owning everything..” And That's When He Realized He Might Be Answering His Own Question. The Fact That It Has Never Been Done, That No One Being Or Collection Of Beings Have Been Able To Possess Everything That Is, That Must Be The Allure. For The Good It Was The Need To Bring Order To The Chaos, And For The Wicked It Was A Need To Bring Chaos To The Order. In The End Though It Was All About One Thing. Control.

And That Was The True Difference Between His Family And The Rest Of The Omniverse. They Were Not About Control. They Were About Not Being Controlled. One Only Had To Live To The Age Of Reason To Understand That There Was No Such Thing As Chaos. Nothing Was Random, And Every Action No Matter How Spontaneous Or Unpredictable Began With A Definitive Origin. Be It Madness, An Emotional Response, Or A Self-Indulgent Act Of Narcissism, All Things Thought Chaotic Began From A Place Of Order. It Occurred To Him Then That Was What His Family Was, Their Very Nature Was A Core Of Orchestrated Chaos. And In A War Of Light And Dark, Good And Evil, To Choose Either Side Was To Enlist In A Conflict That Could Never End. The Only Choice For Him Was To Stand In The Middle. To Meet Both Sides As Both Ally And Nemesis. It Was A Realization That Caused His Gaze To Shift Towards The Sky As He Nodded In Confirmation To His Own Inner Monologue.

”I suppose it's easy enough to leave. There are other worlds out there, other dimensions and timelines...and if you don't care about the world you're living in or the people who fill it, what's the point of fighting for it? It would be as simple as stepping through a portal and letting them all tear each other apart...." But There Was That Nagging. Not A Lingering Heroic Ideal Or A Sudden Notion Of Selflessness And Empathy Towards The Plight Of The World And Its People, But An Irritating Hunger Inside. The Same Hunger He Knew Ameerah Was Feeling At That Very Second. Not A Hunger For Power But A Hunger For Entropy. A Need To Challenge Any Established System And Clear The Slate As It Were. His Left Hand Raised Again And He Turned It This Way And That, Roaming His Eyes Over The Luminescent Emerald Limb As It Radiated Light But Not Heat, Resonating With Energy Like A Self Contained Microcosm.

”...yes. It would definitely be simpler for them, wouldn't it? But..I don't know. Today..I just...I feel like pissing on someone's sand-castle.” At That Moment 3 Of His Fingers Curled, Leaving His Thumb Pointing Up And His Index Finger Still Pointed Out, Like A Pantomime Of A Pistol. He Stretched His Arm Out And Tilted His Head, Aiming The 'Pistol' Towards The Mainland.

”It's a pretty big playground...can't wait for you to reach the sandbox, kids.” And That's When His Thumb Began To Fall, Once, Twice, Three, Four Times, As He Trailed His Index Finger Across The Horizon. Physically He Couldn't See Them All In The Distance, But He Could Feel Every Last One. And Each Time His Thumb Fell, They Would “Feel” It. Not A Pain, Not A Physical Touch Or Something As Dramatic As A Chill Down The Spine. Just A Sensation Like Someone Was Tapping On Their Ethereal Coil, Be It Mortal, Immortal, Natural Or Supernatural.

Good Or Bad, “Light” Or “Dark”, It Was All Fuel For The Engine.