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deaths_headShe had two days left--he, however, had none.
The pull he'd felt was fleeting, but the only confirmation he needed to realize his time was up. The little she-devil that had trussed up his nephew had the Vessel, and had it contained to deliver to her master. He'd underestimated the goblin halfbreed, and now he was out of time.
There was ever chance the Scourge could find him, and make him use that Vessel for more than just personal gain.
He didn't go to Dawn: she was protected. The King of Iron would have made sure of that, made sure even he couldn't hurt his own beloved.
No, when a thick cloud of heavy, impenetrable black mist appeared, then vanished to reveal the Shade in his divine form, it was on the street in broad daylight, in front of a small cluster of dance students...with Courtney at its center.
With a black scowl, the Shade stepped forward, caught her arm, and in another cloud of black mist they were gone.
When they reappeared, it was within her sanctuary. Symbols on its walls were smoldering, little more than streaks of ash and burned out after being brutalized by his entry.
Releasing Courtney, he turned away from her and raised a hand. The distant sound of thunder rolled, and another inky cloud appeared, then vanished. In its place there stood a stand bearing a casket made in pure ebony wood. It was done in an older style, tapered at the feet with a flat lid. Bright silver hinges and lock gleamed against the jet black wood, and in the lid deeply carved symbols could only just be made out, runic figures in an unfamiliar mystical alphabet.
The Shade finally turned back to her, his eyes glowing, white orbs in his head. He caught her hand this time, gentle but unyielding, and pushed up her sleeve. Fingers spread, he hovered his hand over her wrist and began a quiet chant in a strange tongue, each word blending into the other like water flowing, but harsh and rough at the same time. As his hand slowly began to move up her arm, tendrils of that black mist began to seep from beneath the sleeve of his long black coat and swirl up over her skin--then beneath it, hot but not painful as power seeped into her flesh. Under her skin, the black tendrils continued to move and swirl until the were forming images...
Images of skulls and demons, ones she would recognize, but far more delicate, interspersed with images of vines and flowers, lines more slender and colors brighter as the bloomed on her flesh.
The confirmation came when he finally let her go, the chant stopping and the light in his eyes dying. Reaching up, he tugged back his sleeve.
The tattoos on his arm stopped at his elbow, his forearm now completely naked--while the tattoos that had been there before were now on Courtney's skin, from wrist to mid bicep and glowing gently with a pale golden light for a few moments before they went dark, but remained no less beautiful.
"In a very short time," he began, finally speaking for the first time since he'd plucked her off the street, "your former lover will have a mystical talisman of incredible power, one that can unleash a weapon more terrible than any darkness the world has ever known. When that weapon is loosed, you will lock yourself within this casket and channel your personal power into it. You must remain there for two days you have left to live--the casket is enchanted, it will use your personal power to give life to a forest glen around it, but it will also hide you from any force that would try to seek you out. Then you need only invoke the power of shadow and twilight--the marks I've transferred to you will not only sustain the needs of your living body, they will banish the mark on your soul...and protect you from it from this day forward. You will be incapable of being killed by anyone."
His gloved hands protected him from her power. His heart did not beat, his soul was silent. Feeling was a memory...but so recent still, so strong, that still his gloved fingers found their way to her cheek, cradling her face as he looked into her eyes, pain lurking in steel grey depths.
"Even me...and make no mistake, I will likely come to kill you, little mage--because that weapon about to be loosed is me."
The pull he'd felt was fleeting, but the only confirmation he needed to realize his time was up. The little she-devil that had trussed up his nephew had the Vessel, and had it contained to deliver to her master. He'd underestimated the goblin halfbreed, and now he was out of time.
There was ever chance the Scourge could find him, and make him use that Vessel for more than just personal gain.
He didn't go to Dawn: she was protected. The King of Iron would have made sure of that, made sure even he couldn't hurt his own beloved.
No, when a thick cloud of heavy, impenetrable black mist appeared, then vanished to reveal the Shade in his divine form, it was on the street in broad daylight, in front of a small cluster of dance students...with Courtney at its center.
With a black scowl, the Shade stepped forward, caught her arm, and in another cloud of black mist they were gone.
When they reappeared, it was within her sanctuary. Symbols on its walls were smoldering, little more than streaks of ash and burned out after being brutalized by his entry.
Releasing Courtney, he turned away from her and raised a hand. The distant sound of thunder rolled, and another inky cloud appeared, then vanished. In its place there stood a stand bearing a casket made in pure ebony wood. It was done in an older style, tapered at the feet with a flat lid. Bright silver hinges and lock gleamed against the jet black wood, and in the lid deeply carved symbols could only just be made out, runic figures in an unfamiliar mystical alphabet.
The Shade finally turned back to her, his eyes glowing, white orbs in his head. He caught her hand this time, gentle but unyielding, and pushed up her sleeve. Fingers spread, he hovered his hand over her wrist and began a quiet chant in a strange tongue, each word blending into the other like water flowing, but harsh and rough at the same time. As his hand slowly began to move up her arm, tendrils of that black mist began to seep from beneath the sleeve of his long black coat and swirl up over her skin--then beneath it, hot but not painful as power seeped into her flesh. Under her skin, the black tendrils continued to move and swirl until the were forming images...
Images of skulls and demons, ones she would recognize, but far more delicate, interspersed with images of vines and flowers, lines more slender and colors brighter as the bloomed on her flesh.
The confirmation came when he finally let her go, the chant stopping and the light in his eyes dying. Reaching up, he tugged back his sleeve.
The tattoos on his arm stopped at his elbow, his forearm now completely naked--while the tattoos that had been there before were now on Courtney's skin, from wrist to mid bicep and glowing gently with a pale golden light for a few moments before they went dark, but remained no less beautiful.
"In a very short time," he began, finally speaking for the first time since he'd plucked her off the street, "your former lover will have a mystical talisman of incredible power, one that can unleash a weapon more terrible than any darkness the world has ever known. When that weapon is loosed, you will lock yourself within this casket and channel your personal power into it. You must remain there for two days you have left to live--the casket is enchanted, it will use your personal power to give life to a forest glen around it, but it will also hide you from any force that would try to seek you out. Then you need only invoke the power of shadow and twilight--the marks I've transferred to you will not only sustain the needs of your living body, they will banish the mark on your soul...and protect you from it from this day forward. You will be incapable of being killed by anyone."
His gloved hands protected him from her power. His heart did not beat, his soul was silent. Feeling was a memory...but so recent still, so strong, that still his gloved fingers found their way to her cheek, cradling her face as he looked into her eyes, pain lurking in steel grey depths.
"Even me...and make no mistake, I will likely come to kill you, little mage--because that weapon about to be loosed is me."
