Naar's Story

Pathos scratched the scars of his face before taking the fishing pole. He almost ripped it out of the woman's hands but old manners died hard, it seemed. He grunted his thanks before taking off to a jutting stretch of sand. It was the perfect fishing spot for Pathos.

A chill wind passed over Shayla.

"So, you are the one that has claimed Dhaelhel's feather," a voice said near Shayla. It was a daemon with curling horns and rich red robes draped over his thin body. An ornate strip of cloth covered his eyes. He appeared to be blind but with the fluidity that Desmond walked toward Shayla argued against that assumption.

"That feather," Desmond said as he raised a finger and pointed directly at it. "It is very special; something to be safeguarded at all costs." A twisted smile curled at the corner of his generous mouth. The daemon's aura was, breathtaking. It was massive and darker than black. Power wafted off of Desmond as powerfully as the water beat against the shore. He was just as powerful as the forces of nature.

"I ask you," Desmond said in his velveteen voice. "Are you able to keep such a precious thing safe?"

She smirked, folding her arms over her bosom. She would break through his shell eventually. Eventually was the key word.

Chill bumps covered her skin as the wind passed over her, and her clothes suddenly changed to seemed to be a tribal traveling gear. Turning swiftly, Shayla suddenly looked fierce, her own power ebbing as she called upon it. If filled her, consumed her with what seemed to be life itself, with the want to draw more within herself. However, experience kept her from doing so.

Relaxing her look back to her sensual self, she placed a hand upon her own cheek. "I would suppose I would be." She said, her voice soft and becoming. A smirk of a smile pressed itself upon her soft lips. His own power was.. Amazing. Darkness flowed around him like none she had ever seen back when her power was at its fullest. Back then, she had been considered blacker than black. The shadow of the world itself. It would seem this world had changed.

And she liked it.

"Special you say?" She said, laughing seductively. "Well then that means its priceless to me then.." She walked towards him slowly. "I can keep it safe from anyone who should try to take it away from me..." She said, walking closer, attempting to end up beside the daemon. "Are you going to try to take it from me?" She asked with a curious but flirtatious tone.

"I have no intention of taking it away from you," Desmond stated in an amused tone of voice. He knew that she was coming closer to him but the daemon did not move. He stayed standing exactly where he was as Shayla closed in on him.

"I have a sense that you are useful to our cause," Desmond said to her. "Tell me, are you willing to see this world's destruction? Are you one of the people that would allow Terra to come to its justice? It's death?" Desmond awaited Shayla's answer patiently.


Meanwhile, Pathos was enjoying himself. There was plenty of sun, warmth, and fish were striking at his pole. He hadn't yet caught anything. The drunken elf was far too busy staring out over the ocean.

A cruel smile spread across her face. "I was imprisoned unjustly for thousands of years just because my magic was black." Unjustly, but her definition of course. "Was that fair? Trapped in a dreamless sleep, where I was aware the world was changing and that the seal that was holding me was fading. Pint up rage and hatred is something you really should not keep bottled up. I plan to let some run wild with my revenge upon this world, and maybe the next.." She whispered.

Her smile turned sweet towards him and she leaned closer, if allowed, to where her lips were a mere inch to his ear.

"To see this world burn, the people of the world turn upon each other and destroy themselves.. That is my one true desire.." She said, lust filling her words with her true emotion. "Do we both long for the same things...?" She asked in a velvet tone, her eyes shifting to Pathos just for the briefest of seconds. She needed to make sure her tool remained close.

"I see," Desmond said as he turned his head to face Shayla. There was but a whisper's length of distance between their flesh. As the daemon spoke, Shayla would be able to feel his sweet breath against her skin.

"Naar would be pleased to have you serve in his army as a lieutenant," Desmond said as his hand retreated into his flowing robes. He procured a heavy gold coin from it. On both sides of the coin was a triangle trapped inside of a circle with two lines running perpendicular to the circle, one on top and one on bottom.

Desmond pressed the coin into Shayla's hand and offered his name before he asked the woman hers.

"Desmond Bornholdt, and I am ever gratefully at your service," the daemon said, placing a kiss on her hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Bornholdt. I was known as Shayla the witch, but you may just call me Shayla." She said, sounding flattered at his gesture towards her. She felt the coin in her hand. "I look forward to serve in his army." She added.

Moving away from Desmond slightly, she looked towards the ocean. "What does Lord Naar require of me?" She wasn't sure how to address Naar, but she figured flattery would win her more than unintentionally insulting the entity. "Besides holding this feather for him, that is."

"You see that man there," Desmond said, pointing to Pathos. The elven man was jerking his rod upward and fighting a fish that had caught on his lure.

"As foolish as he may seem," the daemon said to Shayla. "He is of utmost importance. There are several people who are searching for Dhaelhel's feathers, just like the one you've so cleverly hidden. A woman, an elven woman, name Lumariale is among the highest of their ranks. He was once the lover of that woman. You are to keep him hostage if such a case of him needing to be used against her comes into our little game."

"And if any come seeking the feather, you are to kill them in whatever manner that you please," Desmond said.

Pathos hollered from across the beach and held up his catch. It was a tiny little fish but he seemed very proud of it. Pathos didn't seem to see Desmond standing next to Shayla, that or he didn't care at all. If she looked down there would be no footprints where Desmond had walked.

Daring a brief glance behind Pathos, she noticed there were not footprints. She smiled and waved to Pathos. "I shall do as requested." She said, barely moving her lips as she spoke. "It shouldn't be too difficult to keep this fool close to me." She stated, nodding towards Pathos. "If I prove my usefulness to the Lord Naar, what shall I expect?"

Only waiting for an answer, she then asked. "If I need to speak to you, how should I seek for you?" She asked. "Or our Lord, hm?"

She then called out towards Pathos. "Magnificent! You are a master fishermen!"

"You shall expect the world to be ended as it is and then recreated to his liking," Desmond replied. It was a vague answer and Shayla would not be able to even come close to comprehending what Naar had in mind for Terra.

"You will be given a position of respect when that time comes. And as for contacting me," Desmond said as he looked pointedly at Shayla's hand; the one he had placed a coin in.

"Call my name and I will come," he said. "In one form or another, or if I am unavailable I will send another of the Naari to aid you." A single chuckle sounded low in the back of his throat.

"Do take care with the elven man. Remember that he is important, Shayla." Desmond walked away from the woman. Not a single footprint trailed behind him.


In the distance, Pathos was restringing his fishing pole. He was having a difficult time not snagging on the coral beneath the water's surface. A slew of curses flew from his mouth.

... the fish he had caught earlier flopped until it caught in the tide and then swam away.

Shayla merely smiled as Desmond began to walk away. "I shall remember. Come and visit me soon, I hope that you won't need to feel so formal next time, Mr. Bornholdt." She said, teasing him of course. She gave the coin a squeeze before securing it in a braided necklace that she tucked inside her shirt.

Soon she was walking across the white sand over to Pathos, though her eyes were on the fish he had captured. The elf truly seemed to be an idiot. So she was to use him to her advantage when the time came, hm? She sat down next to where the elf stood restringing his pole. "So, you've never given me a name to call you, Master." She said softly, her eyes gazing longingly out in the distance. "I'm Shayla." She flashed a soft smile in his direction, despite all the curses. "I can help you with that, if you wish."

Eve only smiled at the two daemons. They were playing a dangerous game. Drumas and Vashal were about to learn that they had lost, too. There were none that could win against Eve, not even that filthy excuse of an elf woman. Even thinking of Maree sent Eve into a furious rage. It was a quiet rage but it shone in her eyes.

A cold wind swept through the room.

Eve's eyes turned onto Vashal. A pressure built around him, squeezing. It would have been a similar sensation to enormous and all powerful hands clamping down around his arms, feet, and head; his entire body. Eve was trying to gain control over the daemon. The shadow behind the woman grew and distorted. It no longer reflected the woman's form but something that was darker than black, and writhed.

If Eve was successful, Drumas was going to come under attack by Vashal with claws and teeth lashing out at the other daemon. But that was the warm up. Even Drumas would begin to feel the same lack of control attempting to seize him, compelling him to remain still and to not move as Vashal tore his body apart.

Vashal, standing triumphant with his wings outstretched, did not realize what was happening at first. He found himself turning away from Eve and towards Drumas, the twisted expression of victory still on his face; even as he propels himself at Drumas with his powerful wings.

He continued to remain slightly unaware of his actions until he took the first swing at his Daemon brother. Claws extended and a snarl choking out of his throat, he had some dark premonition that he was supposed to attack Drumas.

For his part, Drumas was more aware of what was going on. Slowly, he reacts, adopting a fighting stance and preparing himself for Vashal's onslaught. Dangerous though he was, Drumas was more so.

And yet he felt compelled to apathy. He wondered at that, until he saw the dark shade behind Eve. She was nothing, he realized, merely a font for a stronger being. With that awareness, he could focus his will against it, if only for a moment.

Utilizing his longer reach, he snaps his arm out and grabs Vashal by the throat before throwing him into the ground. Placing a powerful hoof on his chest, Drumas turns his head to look at Eve. "Release him," he says slowly, fighting the steadily strengthening influence. "You have made your point."

Eve had not yet made her point. The force that bade Drumas to obey Eve doubled and then tripled its effort. Even would not stop until Drumas was completely under her control. And the force was not exhausting its reserves. It was being held back; trickling through Eve and wrapping against Drumas.

"I said bow before me," Eve said in low voice. It held a threat and a promise to end his life if he did not enter into servitude beneath her.

"Swear a fealty, bind yourself to me and my cause, disgusting daemon, or I will force your own hand against you." Eve took slow steps toward the two daemons. They towered over the smaller elf, but their size did not diminish the sense of dominance that enveloped Eve.

"Swear fealty to Eve Nocturne and the Naari!"

Vashal was already broken. Snarling and trying to fight more against Drumas' pinning leg than the external influence, he twists his neck to gaze upon the woman. "By Shadow, my soul is yours," he cries out, unthinking. He was physically powerful, intimidating, but his willpower was weak; a later generation Daemon.

Drumas would not submit so easily. Even with the powerful presence bearing down upon him, he tries to retain his pride. He had been broken once. He swore it would never happen again. And yet, the power levied upon him was immense. It was no mortal that sought to overthrow him, this time. No... it was something greater. Greater than he, greater than she.

No... it was something that he could actually see himself willingly following. Even happily. He thinks for a moment, he would die for this being, these Naari, for they would be the future of this realm. He had been denied the last, but he would not be denied this one. With powerful allies, he, too, would share in that glory.

It did not occur to him that the thoughts in his mind could have been planted there by the will of Naar. Releasing the no-longer struggling Vashal, he bends to one knee and places a fist on the ground, bowing his head in servitude and wrapping his wings around himself. "By Shadow," he declares, as if he was not under any influence at all, "My soul is yours, Eve Nocturne of the Naari."

As soon as their fealty was swore the power released them. The shadow of Eve dispersed and returned to normal; a very vague outline of her figure in the low light.

"Good boys," Eve said. The woman's hand moved forward and she touched Drumas on his head. She patted him like a pet. The hand that touched him trembled faintly. She took it away from Drumas and it disappeared beneath Eve's cloak.

"I am sending you on a mission of great importance. Naar will be pleased if you are successful. Failure is not an option," Eve said to Drumas and Vashal as she paced the room.

"You will allow the Xhes to mend your wounds and as soon as you are rested you are to go down to the Down World. There are six more feathers to find, and not just any feathers..." the woman said as she pulled out a long, beautiful, almost luminescent feather from inside her cloak.

"Six more of these. They are feathers of a god and I want all of them. If you find any other looking for them that are not Naari, you are to kill them in gruesome and torturous deaths, do you understand or shall I make it more simple for your idiotic minds?" Eve turned to stare at both of them in turn.

With Drumas off of his chest and the power gone from him, Vashal rights himself and growls. He did not like being influenced. He would not allow it to happen again, he decided. But he would follow Drumas, who seemed to have accepted this new rule. He remains silent as his betters speak.

"You need not insult our intellect," Drumas rumbles at the woman, though he remains bowed. "You will find us to be your most capable, worthy servants. Of that I assure you." He looks up only to look upon the object that they would need to seek out.

"Any who stand in your way will be erased, by death and destruction. Direct our will, and we shall see it done." He bows his head again, and growls a demonic phrase to Vashal, causing him to finally match the Greater Daemon's stance.

"We shall see about that," Eve cooed. She ran her fingers through her silver hair and considered for a long moment. What to do with the two brutes recently enthralled? Where to send them?

Eve nodded as if her silent questions had been answered.

"Make your way to Southton," Eve commanded. "I have a good feeling about sending you there. Do not return to me unless you have a feather. You do not want to see me disappointed." Eve ran her fingers along Vashal and then Drumas. They really were nothing but lumbering pets in Eve's eyes; expendable pets.

Her gaze flicked over to the cowering Xhes in the corner. Eve turned on her heel. "Clean up this mess before I have the daemons eat you," she told the Xhes. The shocked one-winged creature looked at Vashal and Drumas in sheer horror as Eve left.