Snippet #1964432

Her heart had skipped a beat when she had been facing the human magi. She'd felt the spike in power not too far from them, and it was power that she recognized too well. The Demon Lord had made his move already upon the land and he hadn't been too far from her. That alone was the only thing that had stopped her from killing the man when he'd attacked her. However, she was still perplexed at his attitude. There had been no fear in his emerald green eyes, no hesitation at all. She wasn't sure how to handle it, too used to lowly beings fleeing from her.

Llyia moved quickly through the trees, trying to put as much distance between herself and her Demon Lord. She wanted nothing to do with his ideals, his rule or being used by him. She was sure he would kill her the moment he saw her, or make her his puppet in which she would die doing whatever dirty work he wanted from her. Her lips curled into a snarl as she moved through the woods. So caught up in her own thoughts, she nearly missed yet another spike in power. This was different, the general thrum of magic all across the land vibrated harshly from the use telling her it was close by. The demon stopped dead in her tracks. She snapped her head in the direction from which she'd sensed the power and waited.

The spike collapsed, slowly leveling out to the original hum of power that she was slowly growing used to. Llyia started moving then, towards the source of the magic she'd felt. Perhaps if she were to follow the one using that much magic, she could find the source that overwhelmed the land with the vibration of its power. The energy that she so desperately wanted to find. With it, she could turn against the Demon Lord. She would overthrow him, take his power, and manipulate the lesser demons to her whim. The demon's lips curved into a smile then as she stalked closer to the one she wished to follow. She used the darkness to her advantage, keeping silent, but close. Soon she came across a camp that had recently been abandoned. She slowly stepped over a large log, taking in the scene before her. Two piles of ash lay on either side of a burnt out fire. The coals barely glowed, the ash piles lifted slightly as a soft wind came by, taking portions of the black dust with it.

She bent down and took a small handful of ash out of the closest pile. Llyia let it slowly fall from her fingers, the smell of burnt flesh filling her lungs. It reminded her of a favorite past time, pure and utter destruction. Her hell fire longed to lick away at lesser beings, explode across buildings, and send the little vermin fleeing for their lives. She could almost hear the terrified screams as she knelt there, next to death. Wiping her hands together, she stood and left the small camp. The one she followed was not to far ahead of her.