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The King looked out his bedside window and upon the bright expansive lake near the grand city his forefathers helped make, he slowly pondered what final instruction he should give should he passed away, he turned to his bookcase in thought. Eventually he spoke, "I must tell Azalia about what the demons may be after. She must know what to do if she feels unsafe upon my departure." He stated as he took to his pen and write upon it. A guard from watching the wall came to him whilst he was writing this vital note.
"Your Majesty, there is a rumor floating around that the Queen of Grimes is coming to speak with you. No doubt in worry of her own people about this demon issu-" the guard stated before Raziel flicked his wrist at him.
"Tarwethial will have to talk to Azalia or someone else then, I fear my time will be up and I fear my son Zianro dead." The King said before continuing to write his message. "There, that's alright, she must know about what lies beyond the throne room, and what is within it." Raziel of Fenarin then started to cough up a storm and tiredly lie down to rest from the work he'd been doing.
------
What the King meant of what was beyond the throne room was that if one should pull a lever hidden in the King's throne, a secret passage would open up. The passage would lead whomever found it down through a long winding path into a hidden Ancient Temple. At the center of an altar surrounded by water a large crystal about as massive as a horse, was situated upon it. No one knows how or where the Crystal's origins were, but rumors say that a weapon used by the Gods rests somewhere within the heart of the crystal.
The Crystal itself seemed to be glowing as if it too, knew of the demonic plague of Fenarin. It glowed and dimmed every now and again as if the crystal was a beating heart, trying to keep something precious inside it intact. If whatever lies inside that crystal ever fell into the wrong hands, Fenarin and all of Terra, would be in mortal peril. This crystal was the driving force of many a conflict upon the land of Fenarin, but if it's true that a weapon of Gods rest in it, it would have a mind of it's own and would want to just be left alone, like the mysterious Demon of Grimes.
She had been in the library when her maidservant had come upon her, telling the Princess that her brother, the Prince, Zianro was still absent. This had been a daily occurrence, as she worried for her brother's safety, of the darker haired older woman coming to keep her updated. Wherever she was. No matter the time. Azalia was adamant that she be continuously aware of the goings ons in the castle.
Speaking of her maidservant, Daelis came around the corner and stopped short at the sight of the younger girl before racing after her. " Princess, what are you doing?!" It was obvious enough as the Elven Royal barely glanced at Daelis. " You should have already figured the answer to that, Daelis," she stated, her tone cool as a flicker of annoyance flashed across her green eyes.
" B-but His Majesty is resting!" The raven haired woman called as Azalia sped up and left her behind, letting out a sigh as she turned to a nearby guard to ask him to take the small basket she held before following the determined young woman. Clearly, the Princess wasn't in the mood to be obedient.
She moved forward slowly, stepping carefully and silently. Her sense took a moment to adjust to all of the new smells and feelings that flooded her. Once she got it all under control, though, she was moving faster across the open grass land towards a large expanse of trees. She could tell there was life inside the forests. Llyia followed the trail of power. The demon could feel the power all around her, making it difficult to keep going straight. It wasn't long before she was inside the forest. Here she slowed her advance and took in the new smells of the trees and life around her.
Moving deeper into the woods she could feel the power around her strengthening. Something or someone near her was filled with energy, energy that she could almost taste. It smelt sweet, inviting and her heart thrummed with the feeling. The demon moved towards it, silently stalking whatever it was that she'd picked up on. Soon after she heard sounds in the trees, people moving. She'd pin pointed the source of the strength, and it belonged to a human. Her eyes widened slightly in anticipation. One hand gripped the hilt of her sword while the other extended and her hell fire swirled around her fingers creating an reddish orange light that sparked from her hand.
The sounds ahead of her grew louder and she found herself facing a young man who stopped dead in his tracks. He looked up at her as he was on a lower slope than her. Llyia eyed the human as he eyed her. His green cloths were vibrant and attracted her gaze. His hand slowly stretched out and the feeling of power erupted around him. A moment after, the human held a glass scythe that was twice his size.
To the demon's utter surprise, the human smiled at her. It wasn't a kind smile, but one that held calm and determination. One eyebrow came down in her confusion. He wasn't intimidated by her in the least, no scent of fear came off of him. Nor did he move to attack her, simply watching her with his smile and the scythe held behind him. They stared at each other for some time.
Anicetus slams his open palm down on the ground and flames expand outwards setting surrounding buildings on fire, burning the ground beneath the Demon Lord's feet black. A man runs out of a house wielding a sword, before the man can get close a small, all black, hunched over figure jumps on his back and twists his neck. When the Body of the man falls on the ground the creature looks up at Anicetus with red eyes and horns pointing forward. "Go minions, leave nothing alive!" With that command an swarm of demons surge forth and enter the burning homes and soon the screams are amplified.
By sunrise the entire village has been burned to the ground and Anicetus is sitting on a pile of skulls and bones. The smaller demons are running around destroying anything that can be destroyed. "Young Demons are so active and destroy anything... was i ever that carefree?" The Demon Lord muses to himself.
---
Prince Zianro, on a mission to destroy the Demon Lord and save the world, tracked Anicetus to the Village but arrived to late to stop the destruction. The Prince of Fenarin makes his way to the outskirts of the village and sees the lesser demon running amok. The demons see the Prince and the run to attack and devour his soul, but the prince draws a rapier with a brilliant white blade with a ruby set in the hand guard. With fluid movements the prince cuts each of the lesser demons down and their bodies shrivel up and fade away. "The Demon Lord must have been here..." Prince Zianro walks into the ruins of the village and spots Anicetus sitting on a pile of bones as if they were a throne. "Vile monster! How could you do this?"
The Demon Lord looks up and stares at the Prince, his eyes glowing red underneath his helmet. "How? What a stupid question." Anicetus stands up and a crowd of demons have surrounded to watch what would happen. Prince Zianro points his Saber at the Demon Lord. "I am Prince of Fenarin, and i will strike you down and be the greatest King this land has seen!" Anicetus chuckles at the statement. "You think you can stand against me? Foolish little elf. You stand before the King of hell, what hope do you possibly have of winning?" Anicetus pick up his sword which was stabbed into the ground. "No mere mortal can stand against me." The lesser Demons are cheering, awaiting the carnage that is to come.
"Have at you!" Yells the Prince as he charges. Anicetus side steps and grabs the prince by the face and lifts him off the ground. "Only one has ever been able to hurt me, my prince. Only one has made me retreat to lick my wounds. You are not him so you death will be quick." The Prince tries to break free but the grip is unyielding. "Souls of the Royal tend to be...delicious." Anicetus looks at the Prince's sword. "I will return this magnificent sword to your family.... or keep it for myself." With that the Demon Lord swings his demonic sword and severs the prince's head from his body. A White mist raises from the body and seems to be getting sucked in by Anicetus. Anicetus picks up the sword and the scabbard and gives it to one of the lesser demons. "If that gets lost or worse you will die a most gruesome death. Now... let us continue on our conquest."
He had been making his way through the forest, trying to get to the other side and to the village beyond. From there he had wished to head to the capital city after buying a horse and supplies. Daemon wasn't sure if the King had heard news about the attacks yet, but he needed to find out exactly what was going on. He had felt as if something were watching him, so he'd turned to find out who it was. He had half hoped to find another human or elf to help him along his way. Instead he'd run into a demon. A pretty one too, he thought, then shook his head. She was still a demon and could kill him easily if given the chance. Except, that was the problem. She'd had the chance and she hadn't done a thing. Still she stood there, eyeing him uncertainly.
"Normally by now, I'd been burnt to a crisp. Yet you stand there, doing nothing. What is it you're thinking?"
Still no answer came to him as she watched him. She seemed tense, almost like she was waiting for him to do something. He wondered what she would do. The other oddity was she was alone, no other demons were with her. Daemon swept the area around them quickly, searching the brush in case he had missed something. All he saw were brown trees, lively green bushes and flowers all darkened in color by the lack of sunlight. Nothing else moved aside from the air. His fingers curled tightly around the glass shaft of his weapon, every muscle tensing. If she wasn't going to kill him, then he wasn't going to waste anymore time. A demon was a demon.
Then, she looked away from him sharply. Her eyes shifted to a fro as if she were looking for something. It was as if she'd completely forgotten about him. What ever it was that had gotten her attention, Daemon took the opportunity. He lunged forward, the scythe swiping down in a deadly strike. In one motion the demon turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed in anger, and her weapon collided with his. The sword scraped down the curve of the scythe, twisted slightly and threw it away from her harmlessly. Daemon stumbled forward from his momentum. He twisted awkwardly, keeping his scythe in front of him to catch a direct hit from both her swords. The demon's attack knocked him off balance and he fell flat on his back, the wind knocked from his lungs. A moment later and he found it hard to breath as she put a heavily armored boot on top of his chest and leveled her sword against his throat. Her lips curved into a slight smile.
Daemon struggled against her heavy weight, pushing at her foot that wouldn't budge. In a desperate attempt he reached for his scythe that lay a few feet from him. He snatched the weapon up and thrust it at her. The demon knocked it away again, an angry snarl following the attack. She brought her blade down, but stopped and looked away from him once more. Her red eyes held a hint of knowledge and... fear? She removed her boot from his chest and he coughed, able to breath properly once again. He watched as she backed away from him slowly, her gaze elsewhere. Daemon moved to lean on his arm, still sprawled across the ground.
Finally she looked at him, "He can have you," she whispered coldly and then disappeared into the darkness of the forest. An eyebrow raised at her short statement.
" 'He can have you'? What does that mean?" He got to his feet and brushed off the dirt and leaves that had made their way onto his clothing. A short wave of his hand and his weapon faded away. Daemon continued on his way to the village that he knew was close by, but as he left the tree line, smoke billowed in clouds on the horizon. The place he'd wished to get to had been set ablaze.
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"Where is Fenarin?" she demanded to no one in particular. "Where is King Raziel? I've been waiting for him for hours, and I have yet to hear if he has so much agreed to grant me an audience."
"Relax, your Highness," Marielle said, idly picking at her fingernails with a knife. "Maybe he's not feeling well. Or he slept in. I'm sure he has a good excuse."
"Excuse?" snorted Tarwethial, her ears pricking up in rage. "His people are dying. There are creatures straight out of nightmares ravaging his kingdom - "
"Well, there you have it. He's consulting his advisors on how to deal with the monster problem."
"Well if he doesn't get his act together, they'll become Grimes' problem too. And the only assurance policy my kingdom has, should the worst happen, is hiding somewhere in Fenarin. I need the Demon. But I don't want all the hastles that come with him seeking asylum in a foreign court, especially if he has somehow managed to gain the favor of the King."
"I understand, your highness," Marielle said, in her annoyingly laid back tone. "But stomping around with your ears all stiff isn't going to get you a response any faster. Sit back. Relax. We've had a long journey, and we should take some time to get some rest."
"The sooner we get the Demon, the sooner Grimes can begin preparations against the creatures ravaging Fenarin."
Marielle sighed, and put her dagger away. She wasn't getting paid enough for this. On the upside, Tarwethial was a strong fighter and a survival-wise travel companion, but she sure was an up-tight, nervious little bitch.
---
King Raziel looked at his daughter walking in his bedchamber with a somewhat non-impressed look and nods his head gravely. "I take it you now have figured out the nature of the family secret?" He asked with a cough interrupting him after it. "The place is here, in the castle, behind my throne. Long have I debated about this Azalia. Now I've come to a full decision on the matter. You will go, and follow these instructions," He took his note and handed it to her, which read the following.
"Go to the throne room and activate a secret switch on the right armrest, that will open the way to the Hidden temple. Once you get there approach the crystal in the altar and wish and plead for aid, That will eventually stir the being inside of the Crystal and reawaken it. Do not let it fall into the wrong hands. I'm counting on you Azalia, Your Father."
Raziel then coughs once again. "Now, go to the throne room, speak with the Queen of Grimes for she is worried as much as I am about this matter. You can tell her what you plan to do... or not, it's all up to you Azalia. Save the kingdom and the world for my sake. I leave this task to you."
The King then rests his head to rest again from the strain of the situation. "Remember that no matter where I am or where your future goes my daughter, I will always love you."
Princess Azalia bowed her head slightly to her father, the King, before raising it and allowing her piercing eyes to settle upon his weak form. She took a few more steps closer to come to his bedside and accepted the note, skimming over it quickly. " Am I to show the Queen of Grimes?" She asked bluntly, her green orbs showing her confusion at Raziel's words. But her question was answered quickly and her interruption forgotten.
" You can tell her what you plan to do... or not, it's all up to you Azalia. Save the kingdom and the world for my sake. I leave this task to you."
She knelt on the ground, placing her hands around one of her fathers. " Father?" She asked, her calm giving way to the storm within. Worry surfaced as she gripped his hand tightly and Raziel laid back against the pillows, Azalia wondering if the end was even nearer for him this very day. She refused to say her farewell's, she hadn't with Zianro either, and would not take this as his end.
" I will speak with the Queen for you," she finally stated after a few moments, giving one more squeeze of his hand before kissing it lightly and letting go, and standing up again. " I shall do whatever I can to achieve the goals you have set before me."
With these few short words, Princess Azalia Finaliel of Finarin turned and walked back to the door before glancing back at her father's still form. " I love you," she murmured softly, so quiet as a tear ran down her cheek. This small betrayal of her now calm expression was wiped from her skin before she exited the room and strode meaningfully toward the throne room. She had a, most likely, frustrated Queen to placate.
The large double doors opened as she drew closer and quickly passed through them, continuing until she reached the throne itself. Her eyes glanced behind it, searching the armrests for the secret switch her father's note spoke of. The note of which she still held in her hand. The Princess turned a few moments later, standing off on the one side and with her hand seemingly upon the armrest for strength, to look at the empty room and the large doors through which the Queen of Grimes was currently being brought through.
" Tarwethial Goldenblossom, your highness," a counsellor, who stood against the wall, stated as she made no sound. He appeared anxious before he continued his introduction, " The Queen of Grimes." He turned to the pale haired woman whose name he had just said and motioned to Azalia, " Her royal highness, Princess Azalia Finaliel of--" He was cut off as the Princess waved her free hand, note clutched tightly, in annoyance. " Yes, Rorin, we know each other's names already. Be silent or leave us." Her tone was sharp and commanding, not in the mood for the formalities as she stared at Tarwethial. The councillor, Rorin, bowed his head as his anxious eyes became more worried; Azalia never spoke to anyone like she had just done so.
" Your majesty," the Princess stated, tilting her head in respect toward the woman. " I apologize for the delay but my father is unwell and thus unable to speak with you. However," her green eyes were piercing as she stared over at the Queen. " I have been appointed by the King to take his place. Now," it appeared the woman was still anxious, " he has given me some instructions as to something that may help. Shall we find this weapon?" She wasn't even certain that was what it was but she knew that was how her father had seemed to write it; something that could be a weapon.
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.
âThen you have made a poor choiceâ Saxtonâs blade turned into fire and he cut through one of the bandits. His eyes glowing red and his pouch glowing red âBlood as been spilled here and you would dare disrespected the dead by stealing their stuff how dare you do such a selfish thing for this crime you will dieâ He cut through another bandit and turned one into ash âI am the Demon of Grimes and you guys made the worst mistake of your sad livesâ He killed the bandits until only their leader was alive and walked towards the leader pulling a rock out of his pouch that was emitting powerful magic and put it in the Bandits hand
âThis rock is only magi can hold it any normal elf or human will just have their mind meltedâ He watched as the leader screamed in pain and fell down onto the ground the banditâs eyes lifeless. âI just hope I donât have to deal with anymore crapâ A group of soldiers come walking towards Saxton and the Captain walked up to him âSir you are under arrest for the destruction and death of this village and its people if you donât come quietly we will kill you here and nowâ Saxton put his sword away and stared at the captain âI didnât kill anyone innocent and I didnât destroy this village and its people get your facts straightâ
The soldiers surrounded Saxton âSir come with us quietlyâ Saxton looked at the guards and surrendered not wanting to get into more trouble or a higher bounty on his head.
Daemon watched, his eyes wide as he noted that the man was an elf. With glowing red eyes, and a stone to match, Daemon was sure the one he looked at was none other than the Demon from Grimes. Of course, the elf wasn't a true demon. He was named such because of his eyes. The red color reminded him of the demon he'd run into not to long ago. The woman who'd almost killed him. He still wondered about the person she'd referred to. Especially since her words had sent a cold chill down his spine. Not a moment after the elf had dispatched the group of trouble, he found himself surrounded yet again. This time by a squadron of guards. Daemon gave a soft sigh. He quickly let go of his scythe, the weapon disappearing as he sent it away from him, and moved out into the open. The last thing he wanted was to be marked as a magic user as well, his old masters words still ringing in his ears. Putting on a calm look, he walked straight towards the guards who had taken hold of the Demon of Grimes. The Captain of the group put his hand on his weapon as he eyed Daemon's approach.
"Stand aside," the man growled.
"I usually would, but I've come to inform you that you're taking in the wrong man for this destruction."
The Captain raised an eyebrow, "Don't you know who this man is?"
"I do, but I assure you he was not here when this happened," Daemon spoke quickly, he wasn't sure his idea of trying to free the magi was a good one. If anything he'd just put himself in a terrible situation.
"And you were," the Captain asked with an air of suspicion. The hand on his sheathed sword tightened. Daemon's gaze didn't miss the underlying threat. He raised his hands in the air in hopes that the guard wouldn't mistake his intentions.
"I came here when it was already destroyed, he came after me. As I said, you've got the wrong man."
"I'm taking you into custody too, I don't like the looks of you. I get the feeling you're a magi too, aren't you? Working together now are we?" The Captain sent a fiery glare back at the Demon of Grimes.
Several men surrounded Daemon then, taking hold of him as well. He sighed, well, that did not go according to plan, he thought to himself as he was hauled next to the elf. He looked over to the man and gave him a small apologetic smile. The procession continued, though it didn't get very far. The Captain shouted at the front, anger clear in his voice. Daemon's eyebrow rose in confusion and he tried to look to see what the problem was. His eyes widened slightly, but then he smiled and gave a short laugh.
"Well, well. Would you look at that," he said. Ahead of them the demon woman whom he'd seen in the woods had stepped out into the road, blocking their path. Daemon wondered why she was there. He had a feeling she had deep plans. Her white hair caught the wind and blew back from her face revealing her blood red eyes. Her lips were curled in a smile, both hands stretched out away from her as she stood there. Brilliant red flames engulfed her fingers. Then she unleashed the fire upon the guard.
âSaxton wake up you have chores to do before you can work on your magic and sword skillsâ Saxton looked around âIâm will do them after I get dressedâ A few hours passed by of Saxton working on a farm when he heard a voice that always made him smile âHey hothead you done with those chores yet?â Saxton turned around to see a female elf smiling at him âSo are you done yet? Or do you have to work on your magic and sword skills first?â Saxtonâs vision started to blur and he woke up in the ruined village passed out for a few minutes
"I see you found me again," the human called to her. She shifted slightly, fingers curling. Her gaze moved from him to the still elf that lay on the ground. He stirred slightly, waking from whatever it was that ailed him. An eyebrow rose in curiosity as she watched him. The demon looked back to the human.
"I don't understand you at all, demon. You hesitated the first time you saw me, and again you hesitate. Why?"
Llyia glowered at him. She thought about how to deal with him. Should she answer, or stay silent? After all, she'd only intervened because of the elf. He could lead her to the overwhelming thrum of power that she felt. Besides, his own magic was just as powerful, if anything she could use him as her weapon to kill the Demon Lord.
"Well, what is it demon? Why do you just stand there?" The human asked, his scythe held before him. His voice didn't hold any fear or anger. It was... curiosity that she heard.
"I need him," she replied shortly. Then she turned away intent on leaving the village and the two men behind. She would easily pick up the elf's trail again, but in the mean time, she didn't wish to be near them any longer. "Curiosity kills, human," she tossed back at him.
âDemon of Grimes we are used to dying now it is just part of our job but we love country and want it to live. So rest for the night we move in the morningâ Saxton finished his drink âWhy the sudden change of heart? Why are you so happy to know that I am here talking to you. Is this there really a threat that makes a group of trained soldiers scared to death and want to forget life that when you find out an outlaw a magi a fire mage someone who has killed to live for the past four years and has a huge bounty on his head is sitting right in front of gives your hope back?â
âYou didnât hear me? Demons have attacked land and want to enslave us all and with The Demon of Grimes on our side we might just stand a chance against them.â
âYou want to fight fire with fire. It sounds like a crazy idea but I will go with you to your capitalâ Saxton pulled the ring out of his pocket and put it down on the table âPlus I think someone is missing a ringâ
---
Meanwhile within the hidden temple, the crystal's normal pulsing manner starts to be accompanied by an odd shaking manner within the temple, causing the castle to quake in a small non violent manner as the normal pale green glow starts to brighten ever so slightly. Whatever is in the crystal, be it weapon or otherwise, one thing is clear. Something is clearly making the crystal somewhat disturbed and angered at the same time, as if it's slowly expecting to sooner or later release it's most secret and sacred treasure within it. Could the mysterious crystal, having been so normally pulsing throughout the land, somehow started to bond with the land above it to feel it? Did it know about the demons? Not even the gods know what the crystal is capable of, but something has definitely caused it to finally stir.
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