Jess screamed. Even Mord gazed at his one-time friend in stupid shock, Lord de Plaga beating his son about the head despite the seductress's warning, though all she did now was laugh with twisted delight, even as the mother and babe turned to ashes as they all gazed on, the vile demoness crowing with pleasure, seeming to gain both substance and form. More than just a silhouette, she was now a woman in the flesh, her body ripe with wicked promise. She laughed softly and seemed to approach a shuddering Vaki, his arousal visible for all to see. "Come, dear little Vaki. But cut down the vile wench and your ill-gotten brat, and embrace the power that is your birthright. Who knows? If you survive this night, I have no doubt your father will give you a dozen wenches to bed and whelp brats upon, and if you are a very, very good little boy, perhaps I shall let you delight in the pleasures of my flesh as well."
And with that the toadlike Vaki, hesitating so long at striking the young woman who gazed at the father of her child with such terrified eyes that Jess had actually thought his a soul worth saving, hesitated no longer.
“By the gods. By all the gods of the heavens above I will slay that bloated bastard myself!” Malek roared, forced to gaze helplessly along with Jess as Vaki debased every iota of mercy and compassion that once his soul had been graced with, attacking his victims with a frantic frenzied mania. Whereas Erno's unforgivable killing had been done with at least a brutally quick efficiency, Vaki had no skill with blades save a certain frantic zeal, his victims screaming in distress for endless moments before they stilled at last.
And there Vaki stood, panting, bulbous flesh soaked in innocent blood, eyes alight in rapture, as if expecting to be showered with glory for his utter corruption.
The vile demoness's laugh, gleeful with triumph, had grown in dreadful potency. With the second pair of sacrifices the demoness's form now appeared as real and vital as any of the cloaked infernalists. She now appeared to be in the ring alongside Mord and his companions, as opposed to endless miles away, even as the brutally savaged mother and child also faded to ash and blew away to nothingness.
A chuckle of triumph that soon turned darkly seductive as she strolled towards Mord, now so solid that the very grass bent beneath her sensuous strut. “Well, my dark knight and champion? You who desire to savor the tender flower of my dear, sweet Jezabelle, my most precious rose, and claim her for your own. You need but tear free the fruit of your own loins from the tree of life, dear Mord, and prove yourself a knight worthy of my gaze.”
“No, Mord!” Jess roared as loudly as she could, so forcefully she sensed the vast chamber she stood at the entrance of shaking with the sound of her voice. “If you do that, I shall never forgive you! And you shall never forgive yourself, even as your own child's helpless gaze haunts you for eternity! That girl submitted to you, Mord. You, her knight and protector! And that is what you swore to do, Mord. To protect her! So be a knight worthy of the name, be a man worthy of my respect, and rescue your woman and child from the demon who would claim all your souls!”
And Jess saw it then, the cold, calculating stares shared by the three sires as they gazed at their sons committing the vilest of sacrifices, and she knew. Relieved that at least Mord's haunted eyes still were locked upon her own, her hands twisted in a pattern only a Squire of War or Knight Aspirant, students who had already killed for king and country, would understand.
She made the sign for enemy at the back, dagger unawares, and Mord blinked, frozen but a moment, yet too well trained not to instantly take in what Jess was communicating and act as he knew he must, in order to survive. If she was wrong it would cost him nothing but a moment's chagrin. If she was right, however...
Mord coolly dropped his sacrificial dagger and withdrew his longsword even as the girl who had been gazing at him with such terrified hopes began to wail and beg.
His blade arced downwards in a fierce overhand blow, even as the three dark lords overseeing their son's handiwork withdrew their messers as one, driving them deep into their son's exposed backs.
All except Mord, who had turned his Oberhau strike into a tumble, having deliberately missed the shrieking mother of his child, grabbing them both tightly to his chest, dashing out the opposite side of the circle, shoving them behind him even as he gazed at his father and his father's friends from the other side of the circle, longsword shaking with fury and shock, his stare one of such horrified betrayal that even Jess felt her heart ache with sudden pity.
“Bloody hells, Plaga, you missed!” Roared the fallen Vaki's father, his son still alive, clawing at his throat, gazing at his sire with helpless despair even as he choked to death on his own blood. Erno was writhing and moaning, desperately holding in his ruptured intestines, crying out for his father to save him, pleading to know what he had done wrong. The stony-faced Lord de Vilde refused even to acknowledge his dying son's plea.
“Well, Plaga? How are you going to make this right?" Cursed the cold-eyed Vilde.
Gazing solemnly at his son, not a muscle twitching in betrayal, Morlin de Plaga lashed out with his messer in a blindingly fast Alexias of strikes, his blade tearing out a suddenly choking Lord de Vilde's throat, Vilde's eyes bulging in horror and panic, stone-faced no more, Morlin then snapping about and lunging forward to plunge his messer deep into the belly of a gasping, cursing Lord de Slaktare, savage kills performed with a speed that gave even Jess pause.
Ruthlessly, Lord de Plaga kicked both the dying men into the circle of blood, the crimson sigils inscribed within immediately roaring up in an orgy of flame, the demoness's mocking laughter echoing endlessly through the glade.
“Well done, my dear Morlin!" crowed the demoness.
Morlin de Plaga flashed his son an inscrutable look before turning his gaze to the demoness. "And six souls you have claimed. As six we have promised. Sires who slew their get of their own free will, at the height of perfect innocence; those sires themselves butchered at the height of utter depravity by their sires in turn."
The demoness smiled with cold delight at Morlin de Plaga, even as she cruelly rent a shrieking Erno limb from limb, feasting upon his tormented flesh as Erno's father gazed on in horror, lost in the throes of agony as he choked on his own blood, and Jess was coldly certain he would never be allowed the peace of final death.
“And those sires of sires themselves cut down in coldest betrayal by one they trusted as a brother. Breaking all covenant, and putting your soul in debt to theirs. A debt which I claim, just as I claim their souls even now!" Her voice softened to a sensual whisper, as she crooned to the stone-faced infernalist. "A debt which I choose to forgive, for so long as you serve me, dear Morlin de Plaga. Aptly named, as a plague upon all our foes you shall be!"
Her hooded gaze locked upon the now shuddering lord as she began to softly run crimson lacquered nails across her breasts and mound, sighing with soft delight at her own touch, covered as she was with the splattered blood and gore of her eternally suffering victims.
“Come here, dear Morlin, and taste the sweet fruits of your just triumph!" Her sensual rosebud lips widened to a wicked smile, ruby red eyes blazing with forbidden passions. "Join me, bold warrior, and savor sybaritic delights the likes of which you have never dreamed of!"
For all that Jess could sense Lord de Plaga trembling with desire, he flashed the temptress a cool smile and merely nodded his head. "As sweet as that rite would be, my queen, I would first hear you say that covenant has been kept between my House and your own; that I and my progeny have kept faith with the House of Lilith, the first and greatest queen of Hell, and the one to whom we have pledged ourselves. That we of the Plaga clan are firmly in your favor, my great and terrible queen; that we need not fear your wrath, and have served you well."
The demoness laughed then, her voice throaty and full, terrible in its fierce sensuality, the dark promise of hideous power just beneath the decadent lilt of her breathy sigh.
Jess stumbled to the ground, mind reeling, overwhelmed with the horrors of all that she had seen and hear
d.
“But of course, dear Morlin. You have served me well. And your House, at least, has kept faith with the ancient covenant sworn in blood between your clan and me. Neither you, nor your son, nor your son's sons need fear my malice or wrath, for so long as you shall live your natural span of years, and obey your mistress of pleasure and pain." She winked cruelly at the trembling lord. "Have no fear, dear Plaga. For I, a true queen of Hell, would never expose my flank by breaking covenant with any soul, mortal or otherwise."
Her grin was terrible in its savage knowing. "There is a reason why my kind never break our oaths, once given. For no matter how many eons I savored tormenting your soul to screaming oblivion, you would be a burden, a chink in my armor a clever enemy could use, stealing you away from my delicious palace of torments, using you to exert claim over me!" Her eyes blazed with such terrible fury that the fallen lord cried out, stumbling back, dropping his blood covered messer, the blade sinking deep, point first into the loamy glade.
The terrible queen laughed. "Thus you need have no fear of me, Lord de Plaga. For so long as you serve." Her eyes blazed with infernal heat as she slowly stroked herself, the lord shuddering helplessly in response. "Now come forth and serve your queen, Plaga. Sheath your messer deep within my moist flesh, and savor your just rewards!"
Stone-faced countenance crumbling, unable to contain himself any longer, the damned lord stumbled into the ring, his haunted gaze locked upon his mistress, the two falling to the blood-soaked ground, copulating like wild beasts upon the tormented remains of those Morlin had once called brothers, the perpetually dying bodies of Mord's sworn friends as well, all writhing in agony even as debased lord and vile succubus writhed with pleasure upon those who had fallen before them.
For the first time in all their lives, Mord and Jess exchanged looks of utter horror and understanding, and Jess felt a fierce sense of relief that he, at least, would flee this place, fully cognizant of just how close he had come to committing an unforgivable act only to be butchered himself, his father's messer no doubt plunged straight through his heart, before the older lord had been forced to improvise.
“Jess, flee!” Mord cried. “The chamber you are in is not safe, your soul is in peril!”
The terrible queen whose face was so hauntingly familiar laughed, crimson eyes gazing wickedly into Jess's own, utterly without shame, even as she rode atop the madly grunting Lord de Plaga. "By all means, flee, child. Flee while I use the seed of your enemy, the sire of the man who beat you so cruelly, to anchor myself to this pathetic, fragile realm, even as the Blade of Oblivion anchors my soul!" Lilith's mocking laughter chilled Jess to the quick. She tore her horrified gaze free of the vision of the clearing, focusing once more upon what lay at the heart of the chamber of horrors before her.
Twisted beings neither demon nor man but a hideous amalgamation of both were at that moment worshiping before a bloodstained alter of twisted steel and stone in the center of the vast cavern that Jess merely skirted the lip of. And above that alter, rotating in their silent slow orbit, twirled the Wand of Dreams and a blade of brilliant obsidian, shimmering with the sparkling light of a thousand dying suns.
Jess felt her heart pound with anxious terror. For she sensed at once that the demoness had not been lying. She all but saw the chords of power and blood tying the queen to that sword, anchoring the terrible succubus even then writhing with ecstasy atop Mord's father within the clearing, still visible as a shimmering mirage. So too, Jess was struck with the terrible certainty that she knew exactly what that horrible weapon would feel like, once it kissed her flesh.
The feel of perfectly balanced mithril.
The promise of unrivaled destruction.
The end of all things.
Jess was suddenly terrified for her soul. Yet she knew with dread certainty that in order to prevent that vile abomination known as Lilith from gaining passage into her fragile world, she must somehow lay claim to that blade, whatever the risks, however great the peril.
“Jess! For gods' sakes, get out of there!" Mord cried as he clasped the sobbing girl to his chest, twirling his cultist cape about her and their child both, racing towards the horses, looking back with haunted eyes even as he prepared to ride away. "Don't die now, Jess. Not now."
This evening had been, Jess thought, perhaps the only time in all the years that she had known Mord that she had ever seen him show anxious concern for another human being, as the girl and babe now held so protectively in his arms attested before all the Heavens. Jess was oddly touched by that act of grace. For all that it had taken his father's treachery and the death of his closest friends to shatter the cold armor of indifference about his heart, perhaps there was hope for her old foe yet.
Jess's smile turned fierce. “Go, Mord. Redeem yourself before one who truly needs you. You do what you must, and I will do the same!”
With that, drawing free her own blade, Jess proceeded to enter the vast chamber, gazing at the horde of twisted monstrosities before her with furious resolve, knowing what she must do.
“Bloody hells!” Malek cursed, shaking his head at the horror of it all. “I have no words, shieldsister. Let's slaughter these monsters and stop this travesty before it gets any worse!”
“Well said, Hound,” Twilight purred. “For all that it is a trap, even the prize itself, it is one that I believe we can spring back upon its maker. Now let us remind Lilith once more what it means to cross the Guardians of Dawn.”
Jess nodded fiercely with her familiar's sentiment for all that she understood only half of what he had said, cheek stinging with a pain fierce and sweet as she coated her blade with crimson resolve once more, knowing well the potency of her blood here in this realm of darkest nightmare and twisted dream.
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Jess shook herself free of all hesitation and horror, paying the shimmering mirage overlaying so much of what she saw no more mind, her warrior's instincts demanding that she now focus on the battle at hand with a commander's resolve. It was time to fully embrace the deadly dance of steel and madness once more, if she was to have any hope of living to see another day.
"By the black abyss, this nightmare just won't end, will it?" Malek cursed, and Jess understood at once what her shieldbrother meant. For just as horrific acts had been committed in the land of the living above, so too acts of abomination were being committed in this Shadowrealm as well.
Twisted amalgamations of tortured man and parasitic demon shambled below. Scaly ruptured flesh bursting with each step, extra mouths adorning flesh like suppurated blisters, still whimpering dying pleas from ruptured throats the twisted demons ignored even as they ruthlessly yanked yet another of the remaining villagers out of their cruelly spiked cage, dragging the desperately pleading woman to the malevolent looking iron chair before the bloodstained alter of steel and bone, writhing with jagged spikes covered in blood. One glance at the hideous contraption of pain and death and the woman screamed and struggled with the last of her strength, to no avail.
Ruptured flesh immune to the struggling woman's bites and kicks, the hideous demons only flashed brilliant, cruel smiles from shattered faces before ruthlessly shoving the woman back into the spiked chair, hissing with delight as she shrieked in sudden agony as the sharpened metal pierced naked flesh, even as a metal spike-laden helm was slammed atop her head.
And Jess felt the horrible wave of abyssal energies ripple through the chair into the helpless victim strapped within. Her desperate cries turned to agonized shrieks, even as the blood trickled down her ruined face, strapped arms and legs bucking futilely, her body entire covered with purple sparks arcing between her flesh and the hideous chair of pain.
Jess fastened her gaze once more upon that shimmering sword that held such deadly promise – the end of all things - yet must be claimed at all costs, one end glowing with brilliant silvery light even as the other end shown black and cold as the icy Void. Sparkles of light, trapped dying stars deep within. Jess gasped and shuddered with a cold cer
tainty that bordered on horror. She could deny it no longer. Somehow, she knew that blade.
Even as she took it all in, too much in awe to wonder how she saw every minute detail even so far away, she saw the horror of the transformation, the sacrifice happening at the base of the pillar above which the blade and wand, entwined, slowly spun. The poor townswoman’s screams built to a shrieking crescendo, even as the hot searing purple energies coursing through her seemed to eat her flesh, her skin bubbling and dripping, her skull’s crack emanating through the cavern entire, even as purple loops of brain spooled forth through her matted hair.
With a final guttural groan the woman collapsed, shattered skull easily sliding out from the spiked metal helm, her eyes covered with blood. Yet when next they opened, glowing with a sickly yellow light, there was no mistaking the alien nature of its gaze. The creature that had once been a beautiful young woman hissed with a forked tongue and grinned through pointed teeth the color of despair.
Silently the warped hybrids of demonic and human flesh, exactly identical to the newest member in their midst, removed the spiked straps and braces and the creature lurched to its feet, and even from here Jess could taste the sickly-sweet tang of rotted flesh and tormented souls that marked the presence of a demonrider, now fully in possession of its shattered host, trapped in the perpetual moment of agony before death, as the host rode the broken body through eternity.
“By all the gods, that’s foul!” Malek cursed under his breath.
“You have no idea,” Jess whispered, knowing what she knew without knowing how she knew it, yet not caring in the least as she felt the first tinglings of monstrous fury ripple through her like a terrible storm of righteous power.
“You have no right to be here!” Jess roared with a voice that echoed through the cavern, her crimson stained blade now blazing with a shimmering brilliance as her smoking blood burst into searing flame, mirroring her fury.
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