War of Worlds(Bane & Kate)

[Deamonbane]

The screams still echoed through the halls, as Corvin cleaned his tools. His work was tiring, hard to do. It wasn't for everybody, but satisfying beyond relief. Hunting down the people was the hardest part. He considered, momentarily, that he was just as horrible as his mistress, and he was sure that his victims would have been more than happy to plug him a couple of hole too. He could still remember that day. It had been a hard week, she had been on his back constantly, screaming, hitting, and plugging her agiel into his back whenever he faltered. He had responded, violently, spinning around, losing all the respect and fear that he had ever felt for her, and placed his own foot long agiel into her chest, and twisted. A terrible scream, and she dropped, dead. That had been the most rewarding day of his life. The rest had been something of an anticlimax, job after job, death after death, as he lived on, without any goals, except those presented to him by his master.

His master. The thought of the demon sent a chill up his spine. He hated him, hated everything that he stood for, but what could he do? He had been trained to give his life, his everything to the service of the creature. He knew of nothing else. No other job suited him. Nor would he take any other.

He cleaned himself off, and walked slowly to his quarters. Once there, he gently removed his belt, sword belt, and the rest of his clothes, and stared into the mirror, fully naked. His body was covered in tattoos, odd marking delivered to him under great pain, for his services. Nothing that he hadn't already felt, but that wasn't the point. The point was the servitude, the fact that everything he was belonged to a creature that enjoyed what he did.

He hated the demon lord intensely. Everyone did.

He felt the tattoo on his forehead begin to warm up, slowly, up to a ludicrous level. He didn't even wince. Pain was a natural part of his life, but he enjoyed the next part very, very little. His eyes swam, the spartanly furnished room twisting, turning. He fell, against his will, to one knee. And when he looked up again, he was standing on nothing, a mist, as far as the eyes could see. He looked up, and on a throne, there he sat.

"What is you command, my master?" Corvin asked.

The demon lord didn't respond, simply placing both of his hands over Corvin's head. Imgaes flashed through his mind. Dates, hundreds of small details: A woman, not human at all. A Fae.

"I want her alive, Corvin," The demon said, in a voice that was both powerful, and painful," And unspoiled."

"It shall be done, my master," Corvin responded simply.

[Katelyn]

There really were no words to describe the state she was left in, no utterances or moans that would press into reality the devastation that suffocated her, so she gave none. Not that there was anyone around to hear any of them anyway - everything was destroyed, razed to the ground. Ella let her eyes scan the dilapidated ruins of her home, the trees burnt and buildings gone. The beautiful Seelie castle that held her coronation and wedding only a few weeks before was a pile of white rubble, black charring touching each piece of her history. She'd wept for several days, knowing the loss she'd suffered was not only irreversible, but permanent.

Damon had taken from her the ability to continue on her race, the loss of her people one thing, but the destruction of their future another. She was the last of her kind and as such would take the Fae magic given her people by the creator of time and allow it to die in her bosom. She found no reprieve in the knowledge that death would come soon at the hands of her beloved. Damon had been in there in the beginning when she was created and from the same drop of dew light and dark was spun into existence, her life filled with joy, happiness and hope and his just the opposite.

She'd tried so desperately to befriend him over the years, to have him become for her something to be treasured, but he only played a dangerous game, one that left him in control of her and her people and she couldn't allow that. She stopped near the grave of her mother, only a small piece of the tombstone remaining. She bent down and swept her hands across the soot and tar, wanting to see something that resembled yesterday. He'd taken everything from her and in his deception; she'd lost a bit of her light because she'd stop at nothing now to enact her revenge.

She smiled sadly at her mother’s name etched along the stone and stood, sighing deeply and wondering where to start on her journey to hell. She knew not the way, but she knew just the man that would - Parik.

[Deamonbane]

He blinked, his eyes becoming hazy again, the burning, painful sensation in his body gone. He stood, his icy feeling in the pit of his stomach leaving as soon as the thoughts of his master leaving his forward consciousness. The Demon had long since tired of following Corvin's every move, trust having installed itself there a long, long time ago. It hadn't been a sudden change, he knew. He could feel when his master was watching over him, both to judge his usefulness, and to enjoy the blood of the victims that were killed in a most horrid way. But he was a creature of finicky pleasures, and quickly bored of watching. Quickly being of course, over a decade or so. Hardly the blink of an eye for one of the first beings ever to come into existence, but for Corvin it had been a long, long time.

He now enjoyed the status that came from being the Demon's favorite assassin. There were other Mord-Sith out there, following his master, same as him. But he had a talent, a sick, evil talent, he was sure, of holding a being on the threshold of life and death, letting the creature left to his tender mercies look into deeper sides of pain than he had ever dreamed existed. He had been afforded a student once, but she had been driven mad by his talents before the first breaking, and he had remained alone ever since.

He enjoyed his solitude. Pain was less pleasurable if there was someone to share it.

He caressed the handle of his agiel feeling the comforting, dull ache that came from caressing it. He knew every facet of the tool, knowing its strengths, its weaknesses, and more importantly, its, and his, threshold of pain. He constantly sought to push, make it harder, stronger. He knew that the Demon Lord had never tasted of the Agiel before even if it was his own creation, and the thought of a creature as powerful as himself kneeling under the buckling pain of the first touch... his mouth watered.

He collected his items, ready for another travel. Such thoughts were not for now. He was still a humble servant. He stepped outside, where a horse was already waiting for him. The Demon Lord knew his bride intimately, and, having spared no details of their relationship, Corvin now knew that she was the last of her race, and would seek the comfort of an old friend.

He spurred his horse into a vicious gallop, his mind slowly assimilating to his task. He had never been asked to bring a victim home with him alive, at least with no intention of leaving the being in that state for too long, and certainly never had he been asked to leave her unspoiled.

This was going to be interesting.

[Katelyn]

He couldn’t reach her in his corporeal form, her powers aligned to press against his in the most basic ways, but he could bring a spirit from the bowls of hell to taunt her and his choice that day was a man that resembled him very much. She felt the darkness just moments before he moved beside her on the path, her heart jolting with fear that was unbound when he appeared. He’d promised to have her and have her he would. She was just waiting for the opportune time to kill him. She needed the proper weapons and her timing had to be perfect. She’d let down her guard and allow him close to her when that time arrived, but for now, he’d only be allowed to move in a ghostlike state around her.

“Ella… my love.” He reached for her and his wispy embraced rushed through the long locks of her dark hair, her gaze focused in front of her as she continued down the path to Parik’s small home that was tucked deep in the earth, hidden from those that sought his life. The tall figure of a man walked beside her, Damon using his power to make the man appear almost real as his dark hair reached the collar of his open white shirt, his tanned skin tightly pulled across sculpted muscles. He laughed at her ignoring of him and she almost looked over at him with a scowl.

Theirs was a story of ages, told across the universe as the creation of light and dark, day and night. She shook her head as his voice echoed around her, pulling her conscious thoughts away and begging her to focus on him.

“Why do you run from me, baby? You know that we are meant to be for all times. You and I make a whole being, Ella. We were created to walk as one. Come to me of your own accord and this will be easy, pleasurable, right.” She ignored him and walked faster, her heart beating to the point of hurting as she bit back tears. He’d taken everything from her and he thought to offer her union? He was sick… distorted and delusional.

“If you’d just have come to me they’d be alive, Em…” That was it. She stopped and turned toward the shadowy figure, lust screaming from the way he moved toward her, demanding and needy. She moved back as she realized that to give him acknowledgement was to grant him power.

“I hate you.” She whispered and turned to run, plowing into a warm body and pushing hard as she propelled her old friend across the forest. She looked back and Damon was gone, a whisper of his love on the wind as she ran toward Parik, leaning down and touching his cheek with worry on her face. “I’m so sorry… Let me help you up.”

He laughed and rolled over, getting up slowly and reaching for her hand to pull her into a hug. “Nonsense. This isn’t the first time a beautiful woman has knocked me off my feet and I damn sure hope it isn’t the last!”

[Deamonbane]

Corvin rode like there was no tomorrow. His horses flashed by, some even dying from overworked hearts. All creatures held an innate fear for the man, if he could even be called that anymore. But it wasn't a fear that made them run for cover. It was a fear that made them fall to their knees in obeisance, begging his forgiveness for their sins, even ones that they didn't know that they had committed. His gaze was hard to bear, even when he was in a good mood. Especially when he was in a good mood, because of the circumstances that placed his mind in such a place. Pain inflicted on him as a child had left him hardened physically. The death of his mother at an older age had left him hardened mentally. And the death of his father... had turned him into the animal that now inhabited his body. Oddly enough, he looked back on the experience with pleasure, and regret at the same time. He had left his childhood behind, and had become a man.

No. Less than a man. A demon in human form. People hated and feared Damon, but not in the way that they hated and feared Corvin. While a handsome creature, Damon radiated evil, and bad intent. Corvin did not. To the casual observer, he was a human, regular in every way. Which made the change from a common creature into a sadistic mad-man so much more terrifying. The only inkling into his soul was his eyes, and it was as black as hell.

He had picked up the trail. He could sense it. Blood rushed into his veins, and he felt alive in the hunt, the expectation of closing in on his target mind-numbing. It was false, he knew. He wouldn't be able to hear her sweet screams, her pleads for him to end it all. No. She would soon be his queen, and whatever evils Damon had in mind for her were for him, and him alone, to administer. He was only to stop her, and bring her back. Still...

It didn't hurt to let one's mind wander.

[Katelyn]

Ella laughed at her old friend, joy rushing to coat the silent screams that echoed through her soul as they walked toward him home. He pressed his hand to the tree and the door opened, allowing her to walk in and him following closely. He snapped a few candles lit up, the old man's magic the stuff of legends.

"Tell me of your search, Ella. I know what has occurred and I'm so sorry for you loss, but I feel in my bones that you are seeking something. Have you found it, dear?" He moved past her and walked into the small make-shift kitchen, pouring two cups of hot tea and motioning for her to sit with him at the table.

She followed and took the tea. "Thank you for this, I need something to warm me." She took a small sip and winced as he chuckled. A sly smile formed on her perfect mouth as she signed and sat back.

"Everything is distroyed and I was looking for something, some peice of magic that I might take with me to disarm or rather kill Damon. He and I are connected somehow and in the presence of the other we have the ability to block true harm." She picked up the tea again and her mentor nodded, knowing all of this already.

"Yes, your life is tied tightly to that of the demon king and he seeks to make you his bride, El." He shook his head and touched his finger to the top of his tea, it cooling down immediately. "I cannot go into detail, as it is not my story to tell, but there is a way to defeat him, my dear. It's not a book or spell, but a man that will be able to stand against him."

Her eyes lit up, "Tell me where to find him, Parik. He must help me. I'll give him anything he wants.."

"Including yourself, little one? That will be his asking price and he is not a man easily loved, but a beast, a bastard, a murderer." Parik shook his head thinking of Corvin. The prophecy was quite clear, but like any beauty and the beast fairy tale, the beast never was compliant and the princess always ended up broken and distroyed. How would this end? He'd hunt the bastard down if Ella was harmed... not that it'd do much good.

"Anything.." She whispered, looking into the cup and seeing the faces of her beloved as they died by Damon's hell fire. "Anything..." she looked up with resolve.

"Good... then you must win him over first. He will be on the demon kings side, Ella... this will be the breaking of all that is good within you my dear, but hold on. If the prophecy of old is correct, then he will help you and you will save him." He drank his tea in one gulp. "Now.. off with you."

She took a sip and spit it across the table. "What? I'm sorry.." She started to clean it up as Parik walked around and took her arm, pulling her toward the entrance. "What.. Parik, what on earth are you doing?"

"He's just up ahead. Don't mention me, don't mention the curse, the prophecy or him helping you. Let this flow as it should and if you need me, princess..." He slipped a small jade stone in her hand that lit up as her touch. "Press it and whisper my name and I shall be there for you."

She started to reply as the tree shut behind her and the sounds of horse hooves caused her back to stiffen and a look of defiant confidence to sweep across her face. She was scared of no man and would not act as such.

Damn that Parik.. damn him.

[Deamonbane]

Corvin trotted his horse into the clearing. He would have expected a female of his master’s interest to have enough power, at least, to know that she was being hunted. Instead, she and he companion had left a trail a blind man could follow, and, as if adding insult to injury, she had lit a fire in broad daylight, in a valley of the land. This was being too easy. Corvin was almost afraid that she was leaving such obvious signs of her presence on purpose. Almost, of course, being the key word. Fear had long ago left the life on the man called Corvin, his blood drenched past, and nothing in view for his future other than the same amount of blood, if not more, since the fear of the terrors his master could inflict far outweighed the fear even of death. So maybe he hadn’t left fear behind completely. There were some that called him brave, courageous even. But they didn’t know. He wasn’t brave because he held no fear of anything alive, save one. The real courage lay with those that stood against him. For all the good it did them.

His hawk-like eyes scanned the place in which his target had chosen to rest under the warm midday sun. Oddly enough, there was no sign of a fire, not even ashes. The place was beautiful, the trees full and heavy with leaves, the flowers on them in full bloom. Those fruit-bearing plants were now leaning under the increased pressure of the growing fruits, the grass was a bright green, and smaller flowers grew out from where the sunlight managed to filter through the canopy of trees above them. The sun was bright, hardly a cloud in the sky, as Corvin’s horse whinnied softly, and pawed the ground. Nothing in this entire picture drew the Mord-Sith’s attention more than the seemingly young female, standing there, determination in her eyes as she swept her long tresses out of her eyes. He gently tapped the flanks of his horse, and the beast moved slowly forward, until he was about ten paces from where the female stood.

She was a Fae, or so he was told by his master. Which meant that she would have considerable power. To attract Damon so, her power must be quite a shocker, or unique. He could feel the power radiating out of her, and he pushed it aside casually. He was made to deal with magic-wielding creatures of all kinds, and this small creature would be brought to his master without incident, if he could help it. He dismounted, resisting the urge flip the agiel out and stun the Fae with the debilitating pain that he wielded, and in turn felt. But no. Damon had given him express orders to leave her unharmed. Unspoiled had been the demon lord’s exact words, and even one small touch from the wand that he carried would incur the wrath of Damon, not something that he was glad to do.

He bowed gently, a sign of reverence to his future queen,” My lady,” His thick, gravelly voice was pleasant to the ears,” I have been given orders to escort you to my master.”

[Katelyn]

Ella watched the stoic man ride up on his horse, his gaze haunted, hateful and demeaning. She ignored it completely and looked for something beautiful and soft within his face, only finding the haunting echoes of a life that was filled with pain and torture. Her heart ached, but her face showed strength and stony resolve. She'd heard of his kind in the form of a nightmareish tale, one made to scare small fae into behaving properly.

She wind swept around her and the earth shuddered at her command, her body honed for a fight. She knew Damon would want her alive, but bloody and submissive all the same, or so she believed. She was the essence of hope, of life. He bowed and she looked to the sky, her fingers swirling in the air as the clouds parted and the sun rushed in, bathing the man in its warmth as she still remained the in shadows. When he looked up she bowed slightly as well - showing respect though he expected none.

"I understand your part in all of this, but I'm sure you understand my own as I cannot allow you to take me with you. My life is connected to all that is good and to snuff that out would bath us in cold darkness, Sire." She pulled her hand down and the clouds covered the sun, plunging him in the cold resolve left in its wake.

She moved a few feet from him, studying the strong planes of his face and wishing that for once she could not have to fight for everything. She felt her brother, the wind, whisper truths about the man in front of her. She lifted her hand, outstretched toward him and pulled as the crimson runes on his body lit up. She stopped immediately and looked at him with sorrow.

"He has you bound."

[Deamonbane]

Corvin gazed upon her, a creature of lgight, beauty, and purity. He could imagine how she saw him. Bloody creature, with eyes of steel, and blood, with nothing but violence in his heart. WHile her respect for him was not put on, he couldn't feel the fear that usually drove his victims to attempt to run, or protect themselves. He could feel the magic swirling around him, building, powering, ready to tear into his mortal frame iwth enough power to detroy a world. But that was not the way of the Mord-Sith. While magic in itself was extremely powerful, it's use and power was usually based on the user, in both terms of knowledge, and the purity of the connection that they held with that elusive power of the universe. His master, and he presumed from the power building up around him, his bride-to-be, both held an extremely powerful connection.

Of course, none of this mattered to a Mord-Sith. All that mattered was the fact that they wielded magic. The sword that he carried made for the ones that had no migic, and he wanted to disarm. The agiel could be used as a weapon, but where was the fun in that? But if the victim was a magicker, very few people knew just why the Mord-Sith were so effective against the. Mainly because so few survived the encounter. They never understood that the agiel gave them so much more power than any magicker could wield. The Mord-Sith had been made to enslave the power. But it had a twist; They could only enslave power used directly against them. So if she used her considerabe power to fling a mountain on top of him, he was, to quote words that he had heard some more vulgar sailors use, shit out of luck. But he had been rather lucky so far. Which was why he was still alive. All she had to do was use her considerable store of magic against him, and she would be his. He wouldn't even have to lft a finger.

The Mord-Sith were an incarnation of the term,"They who live by the sword, shall die by the sword." Enslaved by their own need to defend themselves. The irony was not lost on Corvin, who applauded his master's creation.

"All is darkness, when one cannot see, my lady," Corvin said softly, his face blank, waiting for her to move. "I am in darkness, and therefore, could care less if the enitre world falls beneath the same cover as I. Why should I wish them better fortune?" He asked.

"All who serve my master are bound. They would not serve such a cruel master otherwise. I am the incarnation of his power: The power of fear, of pain, and the combination of the two. There is no more powerful force. Light, no matter how strong, cannot enter a dark room unless the door is opened. And my master hold the key to this room. All candles will eventually fade, all light will dissapate over time," He touched the tip of his agiel, feeling the comforting shock of agony tear through his body," I am but one of his messengers. Kill me, and he shall send more. His power on this plane is absolute," He was quoting lines that he had heard since he was a child, that had been beaten int his mind until he believed them, no matter the true veracity that they held.

[Katelyn]

Why should I wish them better fortune?

Ella wanted to respond that he was the one that would save them, that they together would turn the world back around for light and good, but looking at him before her, she knew that her words would fall on deaf ears. She thought about the prophecies Parik spoke to her about and knew that she needed the one thing that wasn't on her side - time. The trip back to Damon would take them through the dark forest and would give them at least two days together before getting close enough to the entrance to hell in Varmouth. She would have to play her cards right if she was going to get him on her side - she'd have to offer him something that he couldn't refuse. She would have to find a way to release him from Damon.

She let the magic that rode her hard dissapate as she watched him. "I suppose that I don't really have much of a choice if I don't want to harm you. You're not going to just leave if I ask nicely are you?" She smile slyly as the wind picked up and moved her dress around her figure, the whisper of her perfume rushing toward him. She'd play the part of royalty that felt they could seduce anyone into doing anything. She knew it wouldn't work, but needed to appear a bit less intellegent than she was. She needed time with him and knew that fighting against him would leave one of them dead or dismembered. That is one outcome she was not interested in.