She turned and he was there, waiting just beyond the shoreline. She stilled, her destination forgotten as he moved towards her and, ultimately, beyond her until he was standing where she herself had stood only moments before, his eyes on the horizon. He'd felt it, naturally, the sudden burst of power, the rising darkness that whispered malevolence on the wind. It had prickled at his consciousness the same as it had her own. Turning she retraced her steps, coming to stand just behind him to his left. She pondered his question for a long moment before answering...would they ever understand? He might have begun to think she wouldn't speak at all when her voice finally joined the other sounds that permeated the night.

”No...they won't. Even if one person learns there is always another fool, hungry for power, ready to take their place.”

They could just leave, he said, pull up the fledgling roots they'd planted here in Aleris and find somewhere else to start over. Sure...they could. And it would likely make life a lot easier. This land was strange to them in many ways. It was a land where the Gods' dominion was limited, where people could defy them and live, unleashing chaos and destruction on the world. Where they came from the power of the Eternelle Lune Gods was absolute. It was a change, to be sure, the chaos sweeping across the land unchecked by any but the denizens of Aleris willing to stand against it.

But that was no reason to leave.

So many changes in her life over the last few months but one thing had not changed, had not been eradicated from her being. She'd always been somewhat territorial and that had not been altered with her physicality. This was their land, her sand castle, and she wasn't about to just leave it as if she feared whatever dark forces came.

His hand rose and pointed as if mimicking a gun, his thumb lowering as if the hammer to send pulses of energy into the horizon. She knew it would find its mark, knew those who threatened them would feel it, and her half smile touched to her lips.

At least things were getting interesting.

****************************************

As planned the following day a visit was made to Eiler and the offices where land transactions were handled. Two additional land purchases were made, two plots purchased in both of their names to complete their ownership of the island they now inhabited save for a small strip along the shore. It took a few days for such things to go through and be counted among the registry in the Hall of Records but no one else would be able to purchase the land in the meantime. Their home would be secure.

Since they were in town a trip was also made to the Executioner’s Block to purchase weapons. Valorius had found what he wanted but she'd been forced to settle with what they had. No matter, she would upgrade her weaponry later, what mattered most was that she be prepared for anything that might occur in the following days.

With that in mind upon their return to the island she began to erect the island's defenses, The Seraglio patrolling the waters around them as added security. Whatever came, they'd be ready.

The Devil's Walkway, more commonly known as Erronai Pass, was well behind the nineteen Alicowri and their companion lycanthropes by the time Shimmer Town came into view.

The city was old, in fact the oldest on Elved, and the architecture represented that. Some districts were made of brick and stone, crude houses in the design of Arthuran's, with steep wooden roofs to shed the snow that hardly graced this land. Over time, those structures evolved into squat wooden houses with narrow roofs, and these houses surrounded the stone heart of the city.

The village had relatively weak defenses. A wall surrounded the rim of the town, but it was in a state of disrepair. Peace had left this town with little to worry about, aside from tidal waves, and the city was prospering where most of Aleris suffered. Regardless, damage from the recent tidal wave was clear along the coastline of the city, and the harbor itself was in ruins.

If there was ever a time to attack, it was now.

Jelaephon looked behind him. Fifty or so assorted creatures of Chaos - Aliscowri, undead and living werewolves, and whatever demon Gethe was. Though the numbers were drastically favoring Shimmer Town's garrison, Blend knew that proper deployment of the 'troops' would ensure them a quick and easy victory.

He had never been a commander. But Blend was no idiot, and he fell into new roles rather quickly. So when he walked up to Gethe and Elijah, he spoke in the tones of a general, not in the tones of a soldier.

"The city isn't without defenses. There, the tower on the eastern side - that is the cities' garrison. The barracks are rather large. There's likely to be at least a hundred warriors there - unblooded, by my guess. This town hasn't seen war in a long time." Pointing, Blend continued. "There's a gap in that wall over there. See? Two of the wooden beams have all but broken off. If we pry those beams the rest of the way through, we can easily enter the town. And since it's on the far side of the village, the garrison will be slow to respond. If we approach through that tree line, they won't even see us coming until we are inside the town.

"Delorah and myself will approach the hole in the wall, and secure it using sorcery. I want the lycanthropes to charge through the gap and cut a swatch through the village, heading west away from the garrison. My Aliscowri will follow. We can lead them on a wild goose chase while we grow in numbers, until at last we confront them there by the coast.

"The goal of both groups should not be death - we need conversion, to bolster our forces. So the lycanthropes will infect and enslave other villagers, while my Aliscowri will expose them to the revelations of Ae'Vescra. Gethe here can assist in the capture and enslavement of anyone he encounters, so that we may bring more gifts to our new Goddess. If all goes well, we will own this city and every soul within by the time the holy Chariot descends in the west."

There didn't appear to be any objections, so Blend headed back into the treeline with the Aliscowri. The rest of the greusome force followed, vanishing into the woods. Shimmer Town was none the wiser.

--

Time to attack.

Blend cast one last glance behind him. Elijah, Gethe, and thirty five fierce lycanthrope slaves waited eagerly. Behind them was eighteen of his nineteen Aliscowri - the last, Delorah, stood beside him. She had continued to age, and seemed well into her thirties, regarding him with wickedly dark eyes.

"Alright. Remember the plan." Blend said, then motioned to Delorah. They headed towards the city wall.

Even though it was midday, their approach was well planned. The severe rooftops of several large structures blocked them from being seen, and the pair quickly hugged the side of the wall of the building as they made their way towards the city wall. It wasn't uncommon for growing cities to have structures outside their defenses, and Blend was pleased there were so many as they worked their way closer.

The gap was smaller than he'd thought. He realized he would have a difficult time squeezing through the planks, and the lycanthropes would find it neigh impossible. He turned and whispered to Delorah.

"What now?"

"You said it yourself," she whispered back, her eyes twinkling merrily. "I secure the gate with sorcery."

She reached out with an iron grip and closed it around Blend's throat. The Aliscowri was impressively powerful, clearly imbued with arcane energy, for she flung Blend as if he were a rag doll twenty paces. His back slammed into the wall with a grunt, but he couldn't cry out. His breath shuddered through his chest in agony and he tried to regain balance.

What is she doing?! he wanted to scream, but he knew already. Djarin had used him before, in the same way.

He was the sacrifice to charge her magic.

A burst of black energy radiated from Delorah's palm. Spirits and miserable wraiths struggled in the blast of magic as it plummeted towards Blend. When it struck the sailor, it exploded and amplified, releasing waves of corrupted power that shredded the wall and the sailor with it.

When all was said and done, the doorway was secured - a smoldering hole yawned hungrily where a wall had been, making Blend's plan of prying the beams off seem rather silly. Delorah stood alone, looking patiently towards the treeline where the lycanthropes prepared their charge.

The last Dead Seed brushed a smear of blood from her cheek.

--

Blend was getting tired of dying. This was the second death, the second betrayal. Chaos wasn't playing fair.

When he opened his eyes, he knew what he would find. This realm was becomming familiar to him. The realm of Chaos, the home of the fickle Tempesturo. It was ever changing, and always beautiful. Today was no exception.

His spirit walked among a thick forest. The trees were made of stone, and bled amber tears of sap that hummed eerily as he moved past. Brittle black leaves crunched underfoot, the sound of china grinding against rock. He reached out to touch a tree, and its texture reminded him of pumice - sharp and brittle.

Continuing forwards, Blend saw a clearing. There was a figure at the end.

An emerald arm. Fingers cocked in a mock gun.

An explosion.

Blend found his spirit flying, propelled at insane rates from Valorius. The chaotic landscape flew by at an alarming speed, but Blend found himself oddly unafraid. In truth, the sensation was one of elation, of flight and freedom... and, the only frightening aspect, it was a sensation of falling.

Fall he did. When he slammed into the frigid water - or what felt like frigid water, Blend thought as he landed in the lava pool - Blend fumbled for a purchase and clawed through the thick liquid. Coughing up molten rock, Blend crawled from the edge of the pool.

He found himself at the feet of the arraki, Soul. Or should he say, his spirit. Soul seemed completely disinterested in him, or the landscape around him. His eyes were unfocused.

He's still chained to his body, Blend thought, watching with wonder as the man walked around, interacting with objects of Order - objects invisible to Blend.

Soul wasn't invisible to him, however, so Blend took this opportunity to reach out and touch the arraki's spirit, showing him a vision of chaos.

And of balance.

“…the screams, Layla. Those horrible pitiful cries,” Sahar shuddered as she held her teacup tightly within those slim elegant hands. Despite the late hour and her visibly shaken appearance, the desert woman was still as lovely as ever in her white robes, but her honeyed eyes were ravaged by the waking dream she had experienced just an hour ago.

The Lady Victoire had been relaxing in her chambers prior to Sahar’s unexpected arrival. Even though her windows were thrown wide open, it was still warm in her chambers with only a faint breeze from time to time to sweep out the humid air. Layla had taken her evening bath and donned a thin gauzy linen chemise that skimmed her thighs. Even her bedding was made of the same material. No silks or satins for this lady, especially during summer months. She had not spent most of her life in friendship with the desert magae Sahar without learning a thing or two regarding staying cool during oppressive heat.

Her blonde locks were free from the confining chignon to flow around her shoulders, and she had just curled up with a worn novel, and old favorite of hers as a child. Alerian legends and tales of heroes long gone the book had been read by Layla many a night that she could not sleep, which was sadly far too often. Chronic insomnia plagued the Bariston ruler, and she was often found awake at odd hours of the night, reading by lamplight, sipping soothing cups of lavender and chamomile tea.

Such was the case when there was a sharp rap on the adjoining door to Sahar’s chambers. Layla had chosen her rooms with great care. One door led to the hallway, the other to Sahar’s private chambers, for the healer was never far from her Lady, and so it had always been since girlhood. Layla’s bare outstretched legs were propped upon one of the two chairs at the small table in her sitting room when she heard the knock, a smile upon her lips as she set her book aside. Sahar was well aware of her Lady’s condition and would from time to time; visit her during the evening for what both women termed as ‘girl talk’. “Come in Sahar. I have tea ready.”

Sahar’s visit was not a surprise, but her haggard appearance, the haunted look in her eyes most definitely was. “My Lady, forgive me for intruding, but...” Sahar trailed off, unable to speak. Layla stood abruptly and led her friend to the table, sitting her down and pouring the healer a cup of hot soothing tea. “Easy sister. Calm yourself and then tell me what has stricken you so,” Layla murmured softly. The desert woman nodded and grateful accepted the tea, blowing on the steaming liquid before taking a tentative sip. When she was able, she finally choked out, “I dreamed Layla. A waking dream and it was…so…awful!”

The two women sat at the table, Layla’s hand upon Sahar’s as the magae retold the waking dream that suddenly took over while she was studying healing techniques for internal bleeding in the infirmaries library. Sahar had told her of a great Chaos that spread throughout the lands, rivers of blood that flowed, the cries of the innocent that shattered the realm into nothing but eternal Darkness. Layla listened intently as tears flooded Sahar’s honey colored eyes, spilling down her sun browned cheeks. “I have never felt such agony, Layla. And the evil! It slithered and clawed its way through the light, baring its sharp teeth to tear and devour.” Sahar brushed at the silvery tears and whispered, “It devoured everything from within, but mostly her. It devoured her.”

Layla was confused at that point. “Who Sahar, who is she that it devoured?” The healer shook her head, ebon tresses flying wildly around her heart shaped face. “I don’t know! I couldn’t see her! She was shrouded, cloaked in blackness.” Sahar cried in frustration. Normally so composed, so serene, it distressed Layla to see her friend in such a state. “Her face was a blur, for it kept changing. I do not even know where she came from. She was simply there and then I saw it destroy everything, and then the….the…”

“…the screams, Layla. Those horrible pitiful cries. And there were more Layla, more like her, I think. Or perhaps not, but there were others, just as evil and cruel, just as destructive out there,” Sahar shuddered.

Layla said nothing as she poured her friend and herself another cup of tea. She was troubled upon hearing Sahar’s disturbing vision. “I will not discredit what you saw, Sahar, for I trust you and your visions, but until we know more of this darkness you foresaw, there is little we can do. Perhaps it would be a good idea to send scouts around the continents, or even ask the locals if they have seen or heard anything nefarious,”

Layla sighed and rubbed at her temples. “Aleris has been through so much. The Val’nothe, the War of the Gods, the loss of their King, the devastation of the lands and people,” Layla shook her head then. “I pray that you are wrong, my friend. I do. With so much that has happened already, and the slow process it is with the rebuilding of life, the mourning of loss, we do not need something so vile to strike us now. Not while we are so weak.”

Sahar nodded and sighed, hoping her friend was correct when she glanced down at the now empty tea pot. “I drank all of your tea,” The desert woman blurted out suddenly. Layla smiled gently and patted herfriend's hand again. “That is because you are nothing more than a tea thieving glutton.” She teased the desert beauty whom couldn’t resist a chuckle in response.”You should rest, Sahar. You are exhausted and…oh my gods! Dare I say I see lines around your eyes, you hideous crone? I believe you are aging badly, Healer.” Layla’s grey eyes widen in mock horror. Sahar smiled at Layla’s jesting manner. “So says the great Lady whom, if I am not mistaken, glows at the very mention of our King’s name. Vile harlot!” Both women laughed for a few moments before standing and hugging each other.

“Rest now, sweetling. Tomorrow is another day for worrying and ill omens. Oh and be a love and have Neera send more tea, even though it is hotter than Heruin in here.” Layla walked Sahar to the adjoining doorway before kissing Sahar on her cheek. They bid each other good night, and Sahar thanked her for listening and departed.

Layla ran a hand through her blonde tresses. If she had any hope of sleeping this evening, all hope was now dashed. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts, worries and concerns. She stood before an opened window and allowed the sweet breeze to refresh her before reclaiming her seat and her book, which lasted about ten minutes before Layla decided to run herself a tepid bath, hoping it would cool her skin, and her mind. Sahar was not entirely wrong in what she said regarding Verial, for Layla’s thoughts would often drift towards the angelic drow with the odd colored eyes when she purposely set upon work.

The Lady of Bariston filled the tub in her bathing chambers, quite impressed with the City’s indoor plumbing system which rivaled her own back home. It allowed water from the nearby Harbor to run underground, heated in special chambers if necessary so that one could enjoy hot water. An elaborate system that she couldn’t possibly begin to define, and made note to ask the City’s Head Engineers for their blueprints, curious as to how it all worked. Layla stripped out of her clothes and was about to step into her bath when she heard a knock upon the door. No doubt this was Neera with her tea. Quickly wrapping a towel around her body sarong style, Layla made her way to the doorway and opened it. However, it was Verial and not her handmaiden who stood in the threshold, his strange eyes widening a fraction as he took in the nearly naked Layla, who was mirroring nearly identical looks of surprise upon seeing him.

“My Lord? What…?”

Layla let out a small squeak when she saw the two sentries behind Verial who were staring at her open-mouthed, the sight of the unexpected, but highly appreciated view from their barely clothed Lady. Flushed with great embarrassment and without thinking, she reached out a hand and grabbed Verial by his shirt, yanking him inside her chambers before slamming the door shut on the gawking soldiers.

“What in the name of the four gods are you doing here this late!” Layla demanded from her King as she struggled to keep her towel from slipping while attempting to bolt her door.“Do you have any idea what time it is? Doesn’t anyone sleep around here?” Layla grumbled as she stomped back over to where Verial was staring at her as she flittered about, his brow raised in silent appreciation, the corners of his lips twitching as he fought a smile, or perhaps a leering grin. Who knew? “What?!” She glared at him. “What are you….oh….?”

Oh Layla, you're a bit slow this evening it would seem, she chided herself silently.

The Lady of Bariston blinked once, twice, before regretting her decision to let Verial in her room. No doubt he was in a state of shock, judging from the dazed look in his odd colored eyes (or perhaps it was the heat that was getting to him). Always impeccably groomed, never a hair out of place, her gowns and dresses tastefully designed, her cosmetics (or what little she wore) were understated but enhanced her features. Now she stood before her King, her blonde hair a mess and wrapped in a towel that barely kept her modest.

Layla sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, running a hand over her face while keeping a death grip on the only bit of covering with her free hand as she struggled to come up with something witty, classy and perhaps even sexy to say during this awkward moment.

“Uh, a robe I think would be in order.”

Verial had to admit, he was completely taken off guard when Layla answered the door wearing a towel that was tightly wrapped around her body. The fabric covered what it needed to, but also left little to the imagination. He, and whoever else was in the hallway, was given a good glimpse of Layla's shapely legs and petite form. Verial stood in silence, blinking at her a few times with his odd colored eyes, as if he couldn't believe she had actually answered the door like that (not that he was complaining either). He opened his mouth as if to say something, but just then Layla caught the attention of the soldiers at her bedchamber doors also gawking at her in open-mouthed surprise.

Immediately, Layla grabbed Verial by the collar of his shirt and yanked him inside her bedroom, closing the door behind him to avoid the leering stares of the guards. Actually, Layla had pulled him into her room so fast that Verial almost tripped over his feet. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he didn't. A fall could have possibly made him topple over the blonde haired Bariston ruler, freeing that towel from her iron grip.

Once Verial was inside the room, Layla started flailing about with her free arm while the other tried to keep her towel fastened in place. Coincidentally, anytime she moved or drew her arm upwards, this action managed to slide the towel a little further upwards over her legs. Verial wasn't sure he could manage to say anything even if he had wanted to, so instead he watched the lovely and frazzled sight that was Layla while she demanded what in the name of the gods he was doing visiting her at this late hour. Eventually, Layla noticed his lips were fighting to turn into a grin as she realized she was putting on quite the show. Drawing in a much needed breath, Layla let her hand graze over her face as if embarrassed and mentioned something about how a robe was in order.

"Oh, uh, yes," Verial said glancing about the room. Clearly it wasn't just the heat.

While Layla was determined to keep her towel in place, Verial fetched her robe for her which was hanging near the bath with freshly drawn water. Once the robe was in his hands, Verial moved back towards Layla and stepping behind her so that she wouldn't feel as exposed (if that was even possible), Verial draped the robe over her shoulders so she could easily maneuver into it. Whether by accident or purpose, his fingers grazed over her bare shoulders for a brief few seconds. Not so accidentally, however, as Layla fastened her robe together, Verial dipped down and placed a light kiss on nape of Layla's neck. He then took a step back so she could finish putting on her robe and he walked towards the open window of her bedroom.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, Layla. I wouldn't normally think of waking you," Verial said as his gaze turned towards the city. "Have you been looking outside lately? Maybe ten or so minutes ago, there was a blinding light that lit up nearly the entire continent of Arthuran. I could see the light from the Observatory. Does this sort of thing happen in Arthuran?"

Verial looked back to Layla now and leaned against her window sill, sitting on it partially. As an afterthought before she could answer he added, "By the way, you look beautiful. You should wear your hair down more often."

Elias Alexander Lowell, 15 year old astronomer, cartographer and scholar, spent the majority of his youth studying the skies that stretched over the tree city of Vandual and beyond. The particular tree he had chosen as his home had two floors - one that rose above the leafy branches and gave him an open view of the sky and the other below this floor that housed all his personal things, like a bed, books, food and clothing (basically the essentials). As how most of his nights were spent, Elias was on the second floor gazing out through his telescope into the still dark, early morning sky when a brilliant light erupted over Arthuran.

The light, nearly blinding, had Elias taking a step back from his telescope and pushing his thin, black framed glassed back up onto the bridge of his nose. He watched, open-mouthed, as the light enveloped the snowy continent and then disappeared. While the whole mysterious event was brief, it was enough to cause him concern. The source of the light appeared to be from The Shadow Marshes, a place where no one cared to go, unless they had a death wish. Was this blinding flare a warning?

Turning on his feet, Elias moved towards a table in his miniature observatory tower and started flipping through the many number of parchment maps that covered it. A variety of sky maps, star charts and recorded constellations sifted through his fingertips. His emerald colored eyes poured over the contents of everything he had seen and recorded over his years while living in Vandual. Elias threaded fingers through his messy blonde hair in thought. This light was unusual; something of its magnitude had never happened before. Perhaps he was overreacting, or perhaps not.

"What could it have been...?" he whispered to himself.

As he was mulling over his thoughts, he decided what to do. First, he was going to go downstairs and go to sleep for a few hours. In the morning, he would head out to Bariston. An airship ride to Grand City was in order. He had a feeling that something was going to happen and Eiler's capital city was going to need him now more than ever.


Elias had woken up early, although technically it was already morning when he was star-gazing. He gathered his things and stuffed a large messenger bag with maps, food, herbs and a change of clothes. He was wearing a coat too big for him and his boots were hastily put on, untied and partially over the hemline of his leather breeches. As Elias swung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his bo staff, intent on heading out, he was stopped in his tracks.

Just as he had climbed down the rope ladder from his tree house and turned to go to Vandual's stables, he came face to face his mentor, an older man by the named of Ferdinand DeVallo. The old man placed his hands out in front of him and shook his head in protest, his long white beard swishing as he moved. Elias gave him a scowl and looked for a quick exit around Ferdinand.

"I do hope you don't plan on hunting down the source of that light," Ferdinand said.

"No, of course not," Elias said. "But I am going to Grand City. Something is happening, Ferdinand, and I can't ignore it any longer. Aleris needs my assistance."

"Are you so sure? There's a reason you've been hiding away in Vandual all this time. Why now? What if you're right - that there is some catastrophic event about to occur and eventually it causes you to fall, this time for good?"

"I have to go, because I'm -"

"I know. I know," Ferdinand said, cutting off Elias and once more shaking his head in disapproval. "How many times you have said and tried to use those words."

"I will not continue to hide. I'm going, whether you like it or not. I'll knock you down if I have to, old man," Elias said a hint of a smile on his face.

Surprisingly, a grin, one that was calm, formed on Ferdinand's face. The mentor of Elias Lowell placed a hand on the young boy's forearm that held a bo staff and squeezed it for a moment.

"I used to wonder when the day would come when I could no longer keep you here... in Vandual. I thought that I would perish long before that. But this... this departure is something neither of us could foresee in the stars, no?"

"Perhaps not this way, but it was only a matter of time before I would need to leave Vandual. Please, don't fear for me Ferdinand," Elias said taking the old man's hand and shaking it gently for a moment. "I have had an excellent teacher."

Free to walk away, Elias moved passed Ferdinand and headed towards Vandual's stable. There he found his white and brown spotted horse. Elias saddled up the animal, attaching his bag and bo staff to the saddle. Once everything was secure, he hoisted himself onto the horse's back and took off from the stables in a gallop, leaving Elved's forest town behind him. It would take a few days to ride to Bariston without jeopardizing the health of his horse. Elias only hoped he could catch an airship and make it to Grand City before anything - if anything was to happen at all - happened.

“It feels good to be alive,” Deanna murmured to herself as she raised her arms heavenward, stretching out muscles. A small purring sound of satisfaction rumbled in her throat as she flexed her clawed fingers, a hint of a smile playing upon full lips. The dark woman arched her back, relishing in the cracking and popping sounds her spine made before relaxing her posture, taking in the delightful scene before her as she considered the events in the past twenty four hours.




Deanna had regarded Elijah’s transformation of the slaves into lycans with great relish; her amber hued orbs had lit up with great desire at the display of carnage. Her wolf had wasted little time playing with those pitiful human husks, and by the time he was done gifting each and every one with his poisonous venom to begin the glorious change, the undead Bluefield came before her dripping with their blood. This brought a smile to Deanna’s lips as she watched without compassion as the brutalized humans writhed upon the marshland ground, crying out pitifully in agony as Elijah’s ‘gift’ coursed through their veins. Deanna knew their suffering would end eventually, and she casually stepped over those who reached for her to praise her wolf for such an effective job well done.

When Elijah pointed out the bright light that glowed from the direction where they had last encountered Soul, Deanna waved it off in dismissal. Soon enough the arraki would come to them, and as promised by the Dark Mother, either on his knees to serve or to die. It mattered little either way to her.

When her therianthrope children began to stir, revealing their new glorious forms, Deanna had beamed as proud as any mother would, linking her arm through Elijah’s. “They are indeed splendid, are they not? They shall serve us well, my wolf,” had been her response before settling down for the night, always remaining close by Elijah who kept a watchful eye upon the newly formed therianthropes and the rest of their party whilst Deanna had eaten and rested, the promise of Shimmer Town just beyond.

When dawn had broken and the Queen had risen for the day, refreshed and ready to take on the world, Gethe had presented before Deanna the Guluwrath, ferocious feline type creatures led by the human called Donovan. All bowed before Deanna and Elijah who regarded them in silent observation as they nodded their approval. Her amber orbs flickered over Gethe, a brow raised in question as to where the demon had managed to procure such magnificent creatures, and even more so, why. Though offered to the Dark Mother as a gift, Deanna knew they ultimately served their demon lord, a ruse in fact. Deanna had laid a hand upon Elijah’s furred covered muscular decaying arm in quiet warning. Outwardly she accepted such a generous gift, but privately, she and Elijah shared their same instinctive cautionary suspicions. Gethe had his own agenda, perhaps even sought to destroy Deanna and claim her dark powers.

The Dark Woman settled her gaze upon the demon even as she smiled, almost daring him to try. Still, he was worthy of being a part of her ever-growing army. For now, she would keep a careful eye upon him as would her Wolf King. He was welcome to try to usurp her, an act that would lead to his destruction if not banishment from the realm to whence he came from. Such foolishness would grieve Deanna, and she would be forced to replace him, for truly he was of great use to her. The Dark Queen hoped, for his sake, he had far more sense than to attempt a little coup.

They had approached Shimmer Town; the small but formidable army had advanced with surprising speed upon the populace. Deanna had remained almost silent throughout their entire march over the Erronai Pass, Elijah never far from her side. Observing her ‘children’, Deanna found the Aliscowri complied without hesitation to the orders of Blend, which pleased her greatly. She was not there to lead the troops, merely command and oversee operations. She left the ‘distasteful dirty work’ up to Elijah, Blend and Gethe.

More impressed was she when Blend returned to explain what his scouting observations revealed regarding Shimmer Town’s defenses, and more so as he offered a strategy to breach such defenses to begin their destruction upon the town without loss of life within their own army. Deanna listened carefully, nodding her approval and admiration for such a clever plan. Perhaps she had misjudged Blend, seeing him as nothing more than a servant when in truth, he was a leader of men, or in his case Aliscowri. Deanna’s gaze had travelled to the aging Delorah with her sinister dark eyes filled with many secrets. After a moment, Deanna smiled at the Dead Seed female as she had searched deep within, finding the sorceress not to be without her own devices. This pleased Deanna greatly and she made a mental note to have a private word with the woman once all was said and done. For now though, her children needed to play and feed.

Blend and Delorah had gone ahead toward the city wall, the sun high in the sky as they prepared their attack. Minutes ticked by before Deanna let out a soft gasp followed by warm rich laughter. My daughter, you have done so well, she thought. Deanna turned and faced the Aliscowri and her therianthropes, eager and hungry for the feast that awaited them. She had previously instructed her army to spare only the strongest of men as slaves. The rest were expendable.

“Go,” she said softly and with her command, the Aliscowri and therianthrope army was nothing but a blur and series of growls as they rushed past Deanna and Elijah, followed quickly by Gethe, Donovan and the Guluwrath. Elijah had prepared to join in the melee, but Deanna held a restraining hand upon his arm, a wicked smile offered to him. “No, my wolf. Not with them.” Was her only explanation as she led Elijah further into the forest before stopping near a clearing.

The Goddess stood with her arms hanging loosely at her side, her gaze locked with Elijah’s who regarded her in confusions. “Depart,” she whispered and within moments the black tendrils that clung to her body began shifting and writhing before fleeing from her form, leaving her naked before him. Her smile dripped pure honey as she trembled, crouching as she began to shift.

Bones snapped and restructured, muscle stretched and reformed stronger than before to accommodate her newly formed body. Her skin was covered in short white fur decorated with vibrant black stripes and her facial features took on feline characteristics. When she finally stood, she was a sleeker more muscular version of herself, exotic in every way much to Elijah’s stunned but highly receptive reaction. There was heated lust in his dark eyes, though little he could do about it. Deanna knew this, much to her dismay, but there were other ways they could delight in each other’s company.

Deanna turned and walked from him in her were-tiger form, light on her feet and predatory. She glanced over her shoulder, her amber eyes lighting up with wicked pleasure. “Hunt with me, my wolf,” she simpered before taking off running toward the Shimmer Town gates. She didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know Elijah was already bounding after her with excitement as they hurried into the manic frenzy of the slaughter, the screams and pleas of the victims of Shimmer Town went ignored, the smell of blood and torn flesh hung heavy in the air. It was nothing short of pure bliss.

Time to play.

They had feasted on two adult males who were unworthy of having their lives spared, and therefore reduced to nothing more than unwilling meals. Deanna was licking the last bits of cooling blood from the black claws that sprouted from her fingertips before she stretched, basking in the warm sunshine and reflecting on the joys of being alive as Elijah lay upon the ground and leaned against the wall, picking the bits of flesh from his sharp canines.

Deanna settled her gaze upon the Bluefield wolf, an idea forming in her head. Elijah watched with curiosity as Deanna dropped to her hands and knees and crawled over to where he lounged, a devilish gleam in her eyes as she inched closer, straddling the undead werewolf, her hands splayed upon his decayed chest.

“You, my wolf, are deserving of a treat,” she grinned as she lowered herself upon a stunned Elijah.




The mid-afternoon sun was riding low in the sky when the last of the screams had faded, and Shimmer Town was nothing more than a memory. Deanna, now in her human form, the shades of Chaos once more clothing her form, stood before her army, her arms outstretched as she prepared to speak. Elijah stood at her side, his appearance drastically changing as most of his lower torso and upper thighs of both legs were now fully restored living flesh, and the Bluefield wolf stood tall and proud of his slowly, but newly reformed body.

“My beloved children, you have all feasted well and true,” Deanna eyed the small but satisfactory group of male slaves, just begging to taste the gift of lycanthropy that Elijah would soon offer them. “We shall reach Garis Town before nightfall and the same fate shall befall those there. Soon Garis will resemble the empty shell that is Shimmer. Tonight you shall feast again, and tonight we shall bring forth more into our army.” Deanna paused then as cheers from all filled the air. She held up a hand to silence them. “On the morrow, we shall march on to Bariston and lay waste to city.” She smiled brightly then. “From there, my loves, an airship from which we shall procure, shall lead us to the biggest prize…The Grand City of Eiler, ripe for the taking.”

Deanna’s voice rose among the shouts and cries of her children who relished the very idea of spreading the Chaos, Pain and Destruction upon the lands as much as she did. “Aleris shall be mine, my children, and those who oppose me shall fall screaming, begging for sweet, sweet death to claim them! There shall be no mercy given to the unbelievers! Chaos shall reign forever more with me as Queen,” Deanna turned to Elijah and took his hand, “and my wolf by my side!”

Once the jubilation had died, all turned and march south toward Garis Town whose people would suffer as Shimmer’s did. Deanna had called Delorah to her and laid a hand upon the woman’s arm. “You, my daughter, pleased me greatly today. “ Deanna stroked Delorah’s hair fondly. “I believe more of your kind is in order, sweetling, don’t you think? Make it happen. You have my blessing.” Deanna smiled at Delorah as she sent her on her way. Having more Dead Seed in her possession would be of great use to her, and Deanna planned on making use of each and every one in her army of destroyers.

As she linked arms with Elijah, leading her army of Aliscowri and therianthrope with the demon Gethe and his band of creatures following, Deanna pondered the fate of Blend. Death had claimed him, but the Goddess knew she would see the follower of Chaos once more. She counted on it, in fact.

As the sun slowly lowered in the sky and the flickering lights of the town of Garis came into view, Deanna lifted a hand toward the pendant upon her neck. Nimble fingers stroked at the strange black disc-like object that was found upon her grave. Though its purpose remained unclear to her presently, Deanna knew she would find what she sought in the Grand City, the great prize that would assist in her claim to victory.

Deanna smiled as the sweet savory taste of Chaos called to her.

Gethe watched the dark queen's eyes as she accepted his latest gift. She disguised it well but, when she raised her brow he knew she was now suspicious of him. It mattered little Donovan would have no memory of his master. If someone attempted to tamper with his mind barrier in the man he would notice immediately. Gethe would give her credit for being smarter than he had suspected. However, to him time was an endless stream and he could wait centuries if not more to act. His last conquest had taken over seventy-five years to complete he was patient.

Shimmer town had no idea what sinister powers approached the residents. The terrible army had made amazing progress across Erronai pass in a few days. Gethe was mildly familiar with mortal travel due to several trips inside fleshy transportation. He could tell if they weren't a group of unnatural beings such distance would have been impossible without strong horses. Even if they had that the animals would have died of exhaustion.

Delorah was an interesting specimen infused with demonic blood and some kind of molten power that confused Gethe. She aged rapidly instead of slowly over a hundred years like demons of the abyss. He wondered if she would stop or continue aging. Abyssal entities stopped at middle age if they bothered to take physical form. Normally they just take the appearance of their most recent victim as a mobile shell for walking other dimensions. As a result most beings could never guess what the demon they are making a deal with really looks like. Gethe noted the Aliscowri mage was able to infuse living matter with dark power leading to a spontaneous explosion of internal heat. That had never even crossed his mind before, he wondered if he knew her demonic patron. Gethe decided the cannibals would make for an interesting experiment. However, he would ponder his extracurricular activities later it was time to slaughter mortals.

He found it hilarious that as their army grew so did his power. His influence had grown after the battle in Shimmer town. He had slain many good people with his blast of eldritch darkness and dancing knives that kept him well feed as blood flowed like rain staining the buildings and grass. Their messy morals would have interfered with his control process anyway. A few mortals managed to pierce his skin but, where they expected fresh blood only a fine black mist came out. All the fluids Gethe absorbed turned into dark energy thru his weapons and joined his true self inside the human shell. There weren't even organs inside just him.

Delorah returned to the killing ground once most of the fighting was done where she proceeded to rape and then kill numerous males. This was a women after his own nonexistent heart she was very desirable to him now. Gethe's whole body shook with the need to slowly cut her to pieces but, he just let her be as his mistress likely permitted her to indulge. In the end one hundred and sixteen new victims had joined the dread mother's ranks as new therianthrope converts. Their evil hearts called to his power however, twenty of them had enough inner light to resist his current power level. They would need extra attention. Elijah could have them all to himself even Gethe's most direct commands would be difficult to get across. He was sure the undead werewolf could bring them under control. If the therianthrope could'nt he would destroy their minds but, that always made them less effective as soldiers. He enjoyed watching his slaves unleash their darker emotions.

The mistress had a lot of confidence in their army since she already had plans for troop movement. They would have had a larger one if she hadn't said only the strongest men will serve her purpose. Gethe supposed she had a point these humans had little battle training and were soft compared to several countries he had brought to their knees. The bestial army definitely had advantages due to their superhuman nature. He just wanted Grand city to give him more fun than these pitiful hamlets.

“I believe more of your kind is in order, sweetling, don’t you think? Make it happen. You have my blessing.”

Shimmer Town was theirs. The garrison was destroyed or converted. The villagers were dead, dying, or hiding.

Delorah took the suggestion from Deanna to heart. The village became the bloodied backdrop on which she would paint a beautiful scene of violence and passion. The Aliscowri were her paintbrush, and they moved with bold strokes across the canvas, dragging villagers flailing and screaming into the square.


The following scene is graphic.
[ Show content ] Like any great painter, Delorah took pride in her work. Too much pride, considering the nature of the art that formed here in the village.

"That one," Delorah stated, pointing towards an unfortunate soldier. He was being held down by Kotick, the point of his sword against the mans chest and a boot against his shoulder. "I will show you how rebirth is achieved, my sisters."

The Aliscowri were mixed sexes, both male and female, and Delorah studied the women as she disrobed. The Dead Seed was full figured, her breasts round and her hips wide. Delorah moved without any humility, her exposed body held proud in the coastal air, and her dark eyes swivelled to the poor man who was being held down by Kotik.

Delorah walked over the man and moved Kotik back with a palm on his chest. The warrior stepped back a pace but kept the sword ready. The man stared up at him, wide eyed with fear as she straddled his hips.

"Do not fear," Delorah said seductively as she moved over him, opening his trousers and taking the trembling man into her. Perhaps inspired by the horrific scene around him, the soldier was impressively prepared for what came next. It was always so with men. Pain and warfare led to a rapacious yearning for sexual fulfillment. The threat of death only further compounded that mystery. "There is no pain here, only pleasure."

Delorah gasped as her maidenhead broke, but her eyes quickly clouded over with violent lust as she started to rock on top of the soldier. His green eyes were wide with shock and pleasure.

"Tell me.." Delorah panted out as she rode the warrior. "What is your .. name?"

"Gerud..." the man grunted, his body tensing with the impeding climax.

Kotik swung his sword in a vicious arc and slammed it into Gerud's neck. A spray of blood gushed out, coating Delorah with blood even as she felt Gerud's climax inside her. His seed, his dead and dying seed. Had she eyes to see his spirit, Delorah knew she would witness Gerud's soul flee his own body through that current of life. Flee, into her womb.

Rising shakily, Delorah looked around at the other Aliscowri women. Blood coursed down her nude body, dripping in a pool at her feet.

"Do as I have done. Take their dying spirit into you. We will become the mothers of the damned." [ Hide content ]

Shimmer Town was colored burgundy and crimson with the dying screams of the Aliscowri victims.

--

Blend walked around Chaos, uncertain where he was headed. After touching Soul's spirit, Blend left the arraki to deal with the potential changes that would come to him. Unfortunately, the sailor had no way of knowing how the man would process Chaos, if he even managed to. There were those, like Wish and Victor, who were capable of completely ignoring the revelations of Tempesturo.

Then again, he mused as he walked through the alien landscape, Deanna had seemed to resist Chaos as well. Now she leads a growing army of darkness.

Perhaps, then, it would only take time for the others to accept what they have seen.

Blend was quick to accept, so when he saw a small hut resting proudly on a smoldering black hill, he didn't even question it. He just started hiking up towards the building. The ground had small holes in it, and smoke roiled from them in thick black clouds. Blend saw a creature peek it's head out from one hole and snort, before the reptilian figure quickly retreated.

He made it to the top of the hill and looked at the hut. It was oddly familiar.

I saw this... we.. we stayed here! This is the ruined building, outside the Grand City!

After Blend had saved the Aliscowri from ultimate punishment within the capitol, they hid within that hut for several days. Outside the Grand City, the building had been pummeled by the worst of the tidal waves, and stood in a state of rotting disrepair. Here within Chaos, the building was unharmed.

He reached up and knocked on the old wooden door.

"One moment, you unforbearing, unindulgent bastard! Why, and this house, look at this house, a mess, begrimed, disheveled, filthy!!! And these loathsome spiders - begone, cursed demons!"

Blend listened, bemused, while the figure on the other side of the door shuffled about, cursing and knocking things over.

"Dust, skin, flakes of skin, flakes of dust.. Everywhere.. no, can't have that. Impatient guests, I hate them. Kill them if I had the means. And these shameless vermin. Out! Out with you, rat from hell!"

Finally the door swung open and a disheveled old woman peered at him angrily through worn glasses much too big for her small head. She grunted and beckoned him inside with a gnarled fist.

"About time. It was clean a week ago, you torpid cow. Now it's a mess!!! Look at it! Overrun by disease, disgusting!!!"

The room was spotless. There weren't any spiders that Blend could see, and as he ran a finger over the table, it came back free of dust. The old hag seemed to interpret his maneuver differently.

"No! Don't touch the table - embalmed with grunge, it is! Clean your finger, you must - don't say you haven't been warned, you befouled bastard!"

Blend frowned at her. "Look..."

"Look? Do you think I can? You see these grotesque machinations straddling my poor eyes?! Even with their insubstantial assistance, I am as blind as a deaf bat!"

"Why deaf?"

"Bats smell with their sense of touch."

"Right.. So.. I'll be going now.."

Blend turned for the door, but the old crone clutched his shoulder desperately. "Wait! Barbaric, insulting Agatha runs off another guest, alas! But no, you are important. Sit, here, ignore the blasted filth, sit. I have something for you, a gift, loutish Agatha does not forget!"

The old lady walked off into another room and Blend listened as she cursed the filth while rummaging through items.

"Gods!!! I will need five baths, after this," Agatha complained as she returned, carrying a bundle of sticks. She set it down on the table in front of Blend. The sticks were tied together to resemble a doll, Blend realized. A head, made out of an acorn. Arms and legs, bound together at the chest.

"It's.. nice.."

"Nice? Yes, of course!! My best work yet! Hah! Majestic Agatha crafts the finest of spirit-walkers."

"Spirit-walkers?"

"Soulsnares. Fiddletwigs. Also makes great kindling."

"I don't quite catch your drift."

Agatha winked at him, then pointed. "Touch it. Never mind the filth."

Blend did just that.


--

While the dark forces moved from Shimmer Town towards Bariston, a less notable event occurred. A small bundle of twigs was sighted scrambling out of the ruined building just beyond the Grand City, headed towards the capitol's gate. The fisherman who saw it only shrugged. He'd seen gods fighting draconic Val'nothe. What was a bundle of sticks?

They had marched onto Shimmer Town and stood outside the city, camouflaged by the shadows that the forest cast. The city had little to no defense and appeared to still be trying to repair itself from all it had gone through. The city had been ravaged by the storms and heat not so long ago and even though the tidal wave damage was less severe here, Shimmer Town had plenty reason to work hard and try to rebuild their small city.

It may have come as a surprise to some of the Dark Mistress' army, but Elijah had already been at Shimmer Town. A month or so before tidal wave, the Bluefield family of therianthropes had attacked this city and had drastically emptied it. The city was easy to invade; people had hardly given up a fight, too fearful for their lives. While some were taken captive to Tezzra's Gorge, others, weaker in comparison, had been dinner. It appeared that after those captives had been freed, the survivors came back to try and rebuild their sad, little town.

With his knowledge of the city's make-shift defenses already, part of Elijah wanted to grab Blend by the throat and toss the feeble sailor man eighty feet into the air through the wall of one of Shimmer Town's houses. Elijah wasn't sure why Blend thought he was suddenly the general of his Mistress' army. Though he did not respond with violence, his eyes were visibly narrowed, glaring dangerously at Blend. He was glad when Blend stalked off with nineteen of the Aliscowri to secure their route into the city.

It wasn't just Blend that Elijah didn't trust. Gethe, although his allegiance to Deanna seemed whole-hearted, there was something odd about his mannerisms and the way he studied Deanna. It was almost as if he planned to overthrow the Dark Mistress. Elijah wondered if Gethe knew how foolish of a move that would be? Despite the presence of the ten Guluwrath, Gethe was outnumbered and would continue to become outnumbered as Deanna's army moved across Elved and then Eiler.

As Blend neared the city with Delorah by his side, behind Elijah and Deanna were 35 or so therianthropes, newly changed and wanting the taste of blood, the Guluwrath led by a man named Donovan and the demon Gethe. All waited for Blend's signal to advance. With both his eyes now intact, Elijah could see as Blend and Delorah reached the city, Delorah reached for Blend and threw him twenty paces ahead where the man collapsed against the wall. Elijah had to hide laughter from bellowing out of his muzzle. When a burst of black magic, smoldering in the aftermath like fire, lifted into the air, they knew that was Delorah's signal that their pass into the city had been opened up.

With Deanna's command, the army charged with unrestrained ferocity. Elijah took one step to join them, when he was stopped in his tracks, Deanna's hand upon his forearm. He swiveled his head back to look at her curiously wondering what she could want. Elijah was impatient and wanted nothing more than to join his brethren in the attack in Shimmer Town - or at least that is what he thought. With her hand on his arm, Deanna led Elijah further into the forest where with the whispering of one simple word – 'Depart' – those black tendrils of what she called clothing disappeared from her body and left her naked before him.

Elijah's muzzle turned upward into a grin as he watched the nude female crouch down onto the ground. Once positioned, Deanna began to shift, bones cracking as they adjusted to her new form. White fur striped with black covered where human-like flesh was before. When she was done, Deanna stood before him in the most exotic and sleekest of were-tiger forms that Elijah had ever had the pleasure of seeing. Truthfully he was stunned at her new form, but there was another awakening inside of him that he had not felt in quite some time - lust. Still, he knew he could do nothing about the heat that stirred in his loins.

Nevertheless, Deanna granted him the next best thing - they would hunt together. As the two bounded off from the forest, a cacophony of screams and wails filled the air. Blood soiled Shimmer Town's ground from Elijah's pack of therianthropes, the Guluwraths, the Aliscowri and Gethe. Elijah and Deanna had both fetched two males undeserving of joining their ranks and made them into a delicious meal. After ripping out the men's entrails and basking in the sun and their blood, Elijah and Deanna lay upon the ground relishing in the taste of their victims.

He was further delighted when Deanna moved to where he sat leaning against the wall and crawled across his body, her legs straddling over the width of his waist. Deanna leaned forward, her hands on his chest and whispered he was deserving of a treat. Elijah, unprepared but totally willing, sat back as Deanna not only cured the undead flesh on his torso and upper thighs, but also cured that previously insatiable feeling of lust that was once swelling inside of him.


By mid-afternoon, Deanna and Elijah were standing together before their army which had decimated Shimmer Town. Deanna delivered a speech, a riveting one that promised Garis Town, the rest of Elved and then Eiler's capital, Grand City. He stood by her side, proud and hungry, like so many of the others among their ranks, for what came next. Many fists were thrust into the air, followed by the sound of howling and cheers, the soldiers of the dark army offering further allegiance to Deanna.

As they moved onward, the few and flickering lights of the city of Garis Town came into view. The night would be their shield this time as they took on Garis Town. Scouts were sent out to secure the easiest route into Garis Town, this time it being Donovan, the leader of the Guluwrath. When the man came back, their plans were made and another attack had been directed to Garis Town. The army charged once more for the day with plenty of bloodlust lingering in their brains and stomachs.

After the ranks had departed, Elijah looked over to Deanna. Her commands this time had seem a little more distracted. Though she kept her one arm linked with his, her other arm and her fingers where busy playing with the obsidian colored pendant that hung around her neck. Elijah covered one of his clawed paws over her hand that held the necklace and leaned forward towards her neck, his muzzle grazing against her flesh as he inhaled the scent of that mysterious trinket she wore.

"I know who that belongs to, My Mistress," Elijah said with a grin upon his face. "That is a dragon scale. It belongs to Verial Akilara... Protector Regent of Grand City."