A Turn of Darkness (Plot)

[Kender Bard]

The priest panted heavily, sweat streaming down his nearly naked body as he hauled the elderly healer with him. He'd stripped down to almost nothing, modesty cast aside in the face of such blistering heat. How did the Fires survive in this hellish landscape? Then again, most likely the Fires did not scale the sides of the rumbling volcano from which he saw shapes emerge from occasionally. But, as promised by his lord, none approached him or gave him hassle. He had a harder time slipping by the clans to get to this point.

However, he had to fight for every step. Keshet seemed close to death at this point, and Kahir wasn't sure if their plan would work if the healer died. So he dragged the old man, no longer bound for he did not have the strength to fight, with him for every blistering step. Kahir hoped that his lord did not find him too... undignified for their meeting and his heart beat faster at the thought. He'd received such a vision from his Force! The voice that had spoken into his mind, his heart, his soul, had left little doubt that what he'd been told had been a true order. It was... Strange. Disturbing, even. But he was loyal and faithful and would do anything ordered, even something as heinous as kidnapping the elderly Head of Healers and dragging him across Naruta itself.

Near the top there seemed to be a strange relief from the heat and Kahir's pace picked up a bit. And then... Then he was there. He could see the magma over the lip of the volcano and see the evidence of Die's visit and the passage of many demons, but he was curiously cool and comfortable. His heart still beat madly, but that was from nerves more than anything. He eased Keshet to the ground and looked around. "My lord?"

And then he was just there, an imposing presence shrouded in black robes with red and silver threading and so completely enshrouded in shadows that Kahir could make no discernible details out. But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was his lord, and he fell to his knees. "My Lord-"

"You did well," the Force praised. "Rise up." Kahir did so, slowly. "You're naked as the day you were born," he chuckled and Kahir blushed madly, cursed himself for casting off his robes. "No, no, it's fine. I think it's amusing."

Kahir watched as Keshet rose to his feet, lifted up as on invisible strings. The old healer moaned softly. "M.. My lord, may I ask.. Why?"

"Of course you may," the Force told him and moved closer to Keshet. "I would be ashamed if you didn't. It shows a lack of curiosity, of dangerous thought. But why what? There's a lot of 'why's here."

"Well, why did you want me to bring Keshet here, to begin with I suppose," Kahir amended.

A pale white hand emerged from the darkness and pressed against the healer's forehead, as though checking for a fever. "Because he is the oldest Water in existence, powerful by age and by a lifelong use of his signs." Keshet moaned again, louder. "If you were wondering at the greater why..." The figure turned and looked at Kahir, and the man thought he glimpsed a faint swirl of color from somewhere in the darkness. "Well. I'm bored to begin with. I'm being who I am, for another. And finally, because sometimes I feel bad for the little Force named Evil. I mean the creature just wants to be left alone to corrupt the hearts of mankind. I almost sympathize. Almost." The hand was removed, revealing a new, third Water sign on Keshet's forehead.

Kahir started to tremble, his stomach tense and tight. Something suddenly felt very wrong to him; it was an animal instinct, like what warned creatures of a coming storm on a day that otherwise seemed sunny and bright. His mouth had gone dry and he was beginning to grow warm.

"Not completely," the Force went on in his rich, rolling voice. "Or I would be fighting for the other side. No, if anything I'm likely tormenting Evil. Holding out this hope of mastery, only to then turn around and pull it away." He suddenly broke into high laughter. "Ah, stars, but I'm a bastard. Isn't that right Keshet?" He held out his hand and the man was blown away in an eyeblink, tossed into the magma. The volcano began to shake alarmingly and Kahir fell to his hands and knees, bleeding. "That's enough baiting the demons, I think. They can take it from here. The playing field will be much more interesting now. What's a good show without a risk of failure, after all?"

"Soahc!" Kahir called out, desperately. Heat assailed him; he could hardly breathe, his lungs were on fire. "Please!"

"Sorry," Soahc replied, going over to Kahir but not helping him up. "I'm afraid you know too much now. But you did ask. Stars! I love the Curious. Brave fools. I hope knowledge brought you a bit of satisfaction. And as reward for your service, I'll let you greet the next visitor before she probably eats you. I imagine traveling from the Abyss to the mortal realm is a tiring trip. As for me, I'd best get back. My very presence here is rendering the hole in reality even wider and someone's going to pull their attention away from our pet project to notice sooner or later. I don't want them to see me; better they think I'm off dicking around in my realm like they assume. Besides! I have a battle to prepare for. It's going to be fun."

"My lord!" Kahir called out again, desperate, fearful. Or, at least he tried to. He sucked in ash and instead began to choke. When he glanced up again, Soahc was gone.

[Kender Bard]

As the volcano shuddered and erupted, Kahir closed his eyes and waited for a death he feared to be terrible, but once again coolness washed over him. He slowly opened his eyes. Had Soahc returned for him?

Kahir opened his eyes to a monster. A woman, half a woman, stood before him. She was human from the waist up, though lacked breasts; her face was feminine though bore sharp lines and was not lovely to look upon. She had four eyes, one set of two set above another set, and all four glowed red. Sharp, bony looking antennae burst from her forehead just above her eyes and when she looked down at Kahir and smiled she revealed rows of gleaning, needle-like teeth. She had no hair, but thick strands of spiderwebs hung from her head. From the waist down she was a large and bulbous sphere with four spindly legs protruding from four different directions, like spider legs but not neatly placed in a row. They held her up like the legs of a table hold up a top.

He wasn't sure where the coolness was coming from, but he could breathe again and lava that streamed from either side of them diverted to avoid the pair of them. The demon lady reached down and picked him up, holding him up effortlessly. "What do we have here?" she asked in a whispery, breathy voice. Kahir stared in horror. "Does it not speak? No matter. You can tell me about this world in other ways." In a swift movement, she brought Kahir to her mouth and sank in her fangs. He thrashed and screamed but her slender human arms were terribly powerful and he could not pull away. His trashings soon ceased as the demoness seemed to absorb his lifeforce through her sharp teeth.

Another form stepped close to the demoness--this one was completely human, a vision of perfect female beauty save for the long, slender forked tail and the dainty set of curving and pointed horns that jutted out from her wavy, curling blonde hair that ran as long as she was tall. The woman batted her eyelashes at the more monstrous demonoid. "Mitura, you didn't save me anything."

Mitura dropped the corpse. "I needed to learn quickly what he knew, Lady Lilth."

Lilth pouted at her. "That's always your excuse."

"I learned more than I should have," Mitura went on, unperturbed. "The Mad Lord has been here. I think he left information in the man's mind for me. It's the only way to explain how such a lowly peon of the world would know about the chosen champions of the Forces."

"I suppose it doesn't surprise me that they've gone and gotten involved," Lilth remarked thoughtfully. "What do you plan to do about it?"

Mitura grinned. "Greet them." She cupped her hands and from her palms sprang hundreds of tiny little spiders. She breathed deep and then blew, and the little spiders flew off on a sudden gust of breeze, carried by little nets of webbing and quickly out of sight. "My million eyes will seek them out. And what will you be doing, My Lady?"

"Getting out of here before those brutes follow us now that the gate is open fully," Lilth said firmly. "I have little doubt I will be able to find comfort amongst the humans. They will be happy to have their Queen Mother amongst them again." She smoothed back her hair and her horns receded. The tail curled around her waist. "Dress me, my dear."

Mitura ran her hands lovingly over Lilth's body and soon she'd spun a shimmering, pure white spidersilk dress for her. Lilth made a sound of approval.

"We'll meet here again later," Lilth promised Mitura and kissed the other demoness before picking her way down the slopes of the volcano. Mitura watched her go before turning and scuttling off to find high ground nearby. Unlike Lilth, she wanted to see who clawed their way out of the pit next.

[Kender Bard]

Mitura was weaving thin strands of web and manipulating them as she reached out to the many minds of the Chosen and birthed nightmares in their souls. As the volcano rumbled, she glanced up from her work and emerged from the nest she had spun near the lip of the volcano. She had little fear of the other demonic lords and ladies and wanted to know who was arriving and who was not. She crept closer and watched.

From the searing heat of the magma, a equine form emerged, galloping on a sudden burst of lava as if it were a road. The lava fell away, revealing not only a monstrous centaur figure with six legs instead of four and two sets of large, muscular arms but riding upon its back was a chimeran creature--legs of a lizard, tail of a wolf, arms of a great cat, torso of an ape, and head of a woman. The centaur reared once touching ground and the chimera laughed and leapt off his back. "Mitura!" she called out, her voice joyous and merry. "I see you skulking over there! Say hello!"

"Let us be gone," the centaur stated firmly in a deep, multilayered bass voice, the voice of three men instead of one. It created a reverberation that bordered on dissonance. "She is foul and full of tricks. There is no need to consort with her."

"You wound me," Mitura replied, rising up a bit so that she could be fully seen. "I will have you know, all my tricks are aimed at our enemies at the moment."

"At the moment," the centaur repeated with a snort of steam and fire. "Nyara, we will leave. Now."

"As you say, Eurytion," Nyara sighed.

"I suggest you shift your form if you are going to be wandering," Mitura warned. "Lilth has come and gone and I doubt she will see much trouble. She can take care of herself and she belongs to this world. You will cause much more stir."

Nyara considered the advice and nodded. Her body shifted and shrank, becoming that of a fully clothed human woman. "Better?"

"Much. A pity that your master steed cannot do the same. Such ugliness will not go over well."

"Eury is supposed to be fierce," Nyara giggled and mounted his back again. "Let's be off!"

"About time!" Eurytion grunted and sped off to the south.

"Fools," Mitura said quietly and began to retreat to her lair. "They and Terza. Never planning beyond the moment. The humans will devour them." She settled herself back in. "And I will devour the humans."

[Kender Bard]

Mitura began to rouse herself as she felt the volcano tremble again but as she drew herself near the lip of the volcano she suddenly recoiled, a look of panic flashing on her face. Glancing around, she scuttled as fast as her feet would take her, hoping to find cover to hide behind before SHE came through.

Once the volcano erupted anew, two figures rose up, levitating on the air, together. Their features became clear as the magma dripped away from both. One was a tall woman-looking demon save that she perhaps more closely resembled a corpse than any living individual. Curling horns sweeping back from her forehead gave truth to her demonic nature and her eyes were pure and unbroken white. Her clothes resembled a fine dress from some long ago age, now in tatters rags upon her pure white body.

Beside her was a double-colored demon, this one more closely resembling a man--or more accurately, two men. This demon looked as though two human men had been fused together while standing back to back, one black as midnight with red, glowing lines like veins spread through his whole body and the other white with glowing blue veins. They were a bit more muscular and longer limbed than a normal human, and fangs jutted out of from between their lips--the black one with fangs pointed downward and the white one with fangs pointed upwards. They too had horns, small thorn-like horns that circled their heads, creating a crown affect.

The two demons moved to the ground but always remained hovering just slightly above it. The woman turned her head slowly one way and then the next. "She was here."

"Are we going to do anything about it, Akkarei?" the black-sided body asked in a low growl.

"No, there's no real point right now," the demoness, Akkarei, responded in a flat, toneless voice. "She is busy with her webs. I will know when the time is right. Be patient, Zephion."

The white body sighed softly. "Yes. Of course. You would know, wouldn't you? What shall we do for now?"

"I don't know," Akkarei intoned, looking around. "Begin to explore." She hovered off in an eastward direction, her double-bodyguard trailing dutifully behind her.

Mitura released her breath and returned to her nest ill at ease. She had not expected The Eternal Lady to make an appearance...

[Kender Bard]

When the ground shuddered to sound the arrival of another demon lord, Mitura was, at first, intrigued on who would come next. But as the shaking grew to frightening intensities, she didn't need to wonder. I'd best make some room. She began to scurry down the slope a bit.

First from the volcano shot fairly small figure, rocketing into the skies that turned black at his approach and began to circle ash and smoke around him. His form solidified revealing one, two, three sets of great wings, large and black as obsidian. A masculine body formed but was covered by a rich and luxurious black and grey robe. His hand went up and adjusted the spectacles perched on his nose. The man was surprisingly plain. He did not have the ethereal beauty that Lilth had, despite looking nearly as human. His horns were small and curved up and then back, like a cresting wave that hugged against his skull. Take the horns and the wings away and he would look like any normal man. Any normal Taedean priest, in fact; his robes had the distinct stylings of one, although perhaps one that was long out of fashion. He tussled his black hair and yawned, as though rousing from a sleep.

Mitura looked up and chuckled. "Why if it isn't The Herald..." So her guess on who was coming next was correct. She braced herself as best as she could on the slopes and waited. Above the volcano, the angelic figure circled around, like a moth to light, forced to back off when a sudden powerful upward eruption of lava nearly clipped his path. The lava began to fall and rain down but most of it remained in an upward pillar as thick around as the volcano mouth. This pillar of heat and flame began to solidfy as well until a massive head formed on a serpentine body. Long, thick tendrils began to extend from the body, forming tentacles that writhed and groped blindly in the air. The body became scaled, disappearing somewhere deep into the volcano. The head formed, still like that of a serpent but with a mouth filled and filled with teeth. The head opened and roared with such intensity that the ground shook anew. Slowly, using its many tentacles as limbs, it began to extract itself from the volcano. On and on and on the creature went, winding its body around the volcano. It covered over half of the massive landmark before a finned tail finally emerged.

The angel descended down to land on her head, gently. Three sets of eyes with slitted pupils were placed on the side of that head. They looked at the angel, blinking. A few smaller, tiny and delicate tentacles that waved around translucent fins at the back of the head extended and touched him almost inquisitively. A low rumble went through the beast and it stuck out a long, flat, wide, forked tongue into the air and hissed in an exhalation of steam.

And then she spoke, but only to the angel. ~I do not like it here, Ertrael. It is dry and hot. We left the cool, black depths of my home for this?~

The angel, Ertrael, smiled and caressed one of the tentacles. "I spied an ocean not far from here. You can carry yourself that far." He glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrow. "Mitura is here."

~You can play with her later.~

"I want to at least say hello, Tiakara," Ertrael protested. "It's going to take you a while to slither down the Naurorod volcano anyway."

~Very well. But don't stray far for too long. I want you where I can keep an eye on you.~ She pat his cheek in was almost a little slap.

Ertrael smiled grimly and bowed, as though to a lady at court. "Of course, my dear keeper. Who knows, if you're not careful, Taed may pluck me up himself and then you'll have failed in your duty."

Tiakara's response was another growl, this one more menacing. She began to turn her massive body to the west, where she scented water. Her large, powerful bodily tentacles heaved and she began to slither in that direction, aided by her flailing appendages. Ertrael leapt off her nose and glided down to where Mitura sat.

"Truce," she sang out sweetly. "I don't think you're in much condition to be starting our battle again."

"I'm curious what you've done to my old home since you've been here," Ertrael told her with a narrowing of eyes. "Have you been harassing Taedeans?"

"Of course."

Ertrael snarled and his hands contorted. A black trident formed in his hands, tipped with a small sickle on the end of the handle.

"Your lord won't appreciate your devotion," Mitura scoffed. "Keep your trident sharp for the blood of his chosen he will no doubt send at you."

Ertrael huffed and the weapon disappeared in a puff of smoke. "Very well. But mark my words, Mitura. When this land is ours, I'll see you dead."

"Go back to your jailer," Mitura scoffed. "I tire of the stench of rotting fish whenever you are near."

"One day, Mitura," Ertrael growled and then took wing back to Tiakara, who was beginning to pick up speed.

[Kender Bard]

When the ground shook again, it was a slow rumble but one that was building rapidly. Mitura had little doubt on who it would be, and who would be accompanying him. They were the only two left, to the best of her knowledge.

Do I flee? she wondered. It would be... Prudent. But he might take it as an insult as well. I won't show any fear, then. She emerged, slowly, almost reluctantly, from her hiding place.

She watched as the first figure emerged, tiny by comparison to most of them, save for Lilth. The size of a man. Flapping wings formed on his back, thin and delicate butterfly wings. An impressive set of horns jutted out from each side of his head before sweeping forward and upwards jaggedly, all sharp corners and hard lines, horns made for destroying much larger creatures than himself for in the Abyss, size did matter at times. His hair was red as flame, was, in fact, living flame that flowed upward in a narrow line from his forehead down his spine, between his wings. As the finer features formed, Mitura reflected that in life he must have been a terribly beautiful faerie, perfect by human reckoning, but his damnation had marred that. Though, like Lilth, he had managed to pass through the flames of hell relatively undeformed, he did not escape perfectly intact. He had a lovely human body, but thin black lines wrapped around his body like climbing ivy. His face, made originally to be lovely and delicate, sported a bestial snout. He'd put a golden ring through his nose, like a bull.

"Tuatha," Mitura whispered, all of her eyes narrowing faintly. As Ertreal felt a burning hatred for her, so did Mitura feel for Tuatha. The demon lord was small and fragile. He should have never been able to rise so far, not when Mitura could ensnare his mind in her webs with laughable ease. More than once she had made him his puppet. That had ceased when Tuatha had given himself willingly to his consort.

Lava bubbled and flew from the volcano, but now it was grey, now black. The volcano seemed to be vomiting pure, hellish bile.

Tuatha, on his beautiful, rainbow-colored butterfly wings, laughed as he hovered above it all. "Come on out! The weather is fine!"

Nightmare made flesh emerged.

He was large, not as large as Tiakara of course. She was the largest of them all. But he was bigger than even Karau, who enjoyed towering over the other demon lords. His body, thick with muscles and broad in the chest, hunched over slightly even after he'd pulled himself up from the lip of the volcano. The black lava flowed up his body and down it, caressing, loving. Darkness reaching out to its master. His face was all bones, like a skull. Rather than a hole where a normal skull would have a nose, he had nothing at all. His empty eyesockets burned with purple flames. His jaw was long and tapered narrow with a permanent grin displayed in long, needle-like teeth. Horns jutted out from around his head like a mane, sweeping down in an S-shaped curve, sweeping up in long, narrow, curving lines. Smaller horns jutted out along the sides, curling very slightly at the tips in random directions.

His face was frightening on its own, but when Mitura mistakenly looked upon him, she regretted it with a faint whimper. She saw the face of an angelic but wrathful angel she had met very briefly before her damnation, who drove fear into the darkest part of her hearts. Instantly, she lowered her head as all did in the presence of their lord and master. All of the other demon lords and ladies dared not look Fear in the face, save Tuatha. They all saw their greatest fears. Everyone did but the little faerie. Mitura had no idea how he managed that and she hated him even more for it.

She inched closer, went down as gracefully to the ground as her body would allow. "My lord," she greeted quietly. "Great one. Deimos."

"Rise, Mitura," Deimos ordered in a voice that grated and seemed to issue more from the air around her than from the mouth that moved on the skull. Mitura rose. "Where are the others?" Tuatha landed next to Deimos, looking even tinier by comparison. He put his hands on his hips, grinning and looking around excitedly.

"Gone, scattered, to bring destruction and mayhem to the mortals," Mitura explained. "The mortals are rallying against us, but the Forces are moving slowly. Something hampers them."

"Good," Deimos replied. And then he giggled, a high pitched sound that made shivers run through Mitura's body. "Then we will do the same. But I want you to contact the others and tell them to prepare to return to this site with haste. The Forces will not allow us to wander unimpeded for much longer."

"Yes, my lord."

"And make it snappy!" Tuatha added with a smirk. Mitura cut him a hateful look but said nothing. She dared not in the presence of Deimos. Your time will come soon, faerie.

"Come, my pet," Deimos ordered of Tuatha. "You must show me your ancestral home." Tuatha bowed, took to the air. Mitura remained with her head bowed until she was certain Deimos and Tuatha had passed. Breathing deeply, she returned to do as Deimos had bade.

None crossed the strongest of them all. She almost felt bad for humankind.