Post by Ceathen on Apr 20, 2009 11:08:03 GMT -5
The air inside the black walled cave was thick with incense, swirling sweet smelling smoke filled the space selfishly, filling up every available space. A young druchii sat crosslegged in the center of the cavern, elegantly slanted eyes closed as he breathed deeply. The smoke stuck sweetly to his throat and lungs, filling his usually sharp mind with a dull haze. The preparations were almost complete. Six candles arranged about him in a ring, lines drawn between them with chalk. Offering of cloth, wine and fruit, stolen from his father's house. The hour was almost nigh, and with a small, satisfied smile, he opened his dark eyes. Tonight he would see the most beautiful being in the world, one made in the Dark Prince's image, one of His chosen sons.
Ceathen's composed features belied the excitement that was welling inside his pounding heart.
He would show his father that he was worth something when he stormed into the manor with his new-found friend to slaughter him. He would make his mother proud of his strength as he sacrificed her to the dark gods. He would show all of Naggaroth where true power lies. The eerie greenish light of Morrslieb slanted down through a hole in the roof, casting a sickly teal sheen onto his smooth black hair and white skin.
It was time.
The druchii rose to his feet and pulled out a parchment from his belt. As he read from it, he could faintly feel the energies of the warp swirling around him. His countenance was even, brows furrowed as he stared into the blackness before him. Ceathen had to do this right, so he chanted louder, and louder and louder until his voice was hoarse. Then, at the climax of the incantation, he pulled a knife of obsidian from his belt and slashed at his palm. He held the wound out before him, dripping the final offering of blood onto the slick cave floor for the Child Prince.
He blinked. A few moments past where nothing happened, only a quiet electricity buzzed in the air. Then, suddenly and violently, a tear began to form in the very fabric of space in front of Ceathen. He squeaked in fear, eyes wide at the fact that this was really happening. Inside the rift swirled colors and forms of every maddening shade, undulating and twisting into shapes beyond comprehension. As horrific as the warp was, Ceathen couldn't take his eyes from it. They were locked on the tear, expressions of fear, joy, and madness flickering across them.
Suddenly a voice filled his mind that was all at once smooth and gentle, but with a sarcastic, sneering bite. It flowed over his soul like the smoothest silk. The elf tried to run, but he was paralyzed by some magic emanating from the rift. Sensations of pain and pleasure prickled up his spine, producing a weak whimper from his lips.
You are truly a fool Ceathen, to think that you can control those born of Chaos with your trinkets and words. You seek power yet you don't have the spine to make it for yourself.
A moment of silence passed that seemed like an eternity.
Hmm.. you know, I should end your miserable existance right here and now, but I decided not to. I will help you achieve your dreams, druchii, but at a cost. Your body and eternal soul will be mine forever. A small price to pay, don't you think?
A malicious, screeching laughter filled the druchii's mind, causing him to fall to his knees from the horrific sound, clutching his sensitive ears in pain.
Do you feel it, Ceathen! You will soon come to enjoy that pain! Now come, do not fret, my newest pet. In the future one will tell you, that to truly understand Chaos is to look directly upon it and come out better for doing so. You will understand those words well, my dearest pet. Now go, do my bidding!
And at those last, biting words, all was darkness.
Ceathen's composed features belied the excitement that was welling inside his pounding heart.
He would show his father that he was worth something when he stormed into the manor with his new-found friend to slaughter him. He would make his mother proud of his strength as he sacrificed her to the dark gods. He would show all of Naggaroth where true power lies. The eerie greenish light of Morrslieb slanted down through a hole in the roof, casting a sickly teal sheen onto his smooth black hair and white skin.
It was time.
The druchii rose to his feet and pulled out a parchment from his belt. As he read from it, he could faintly feel the energies of the warp swirling around him. His countenance was even, brows furrowed as he stared into the blackness before him. Ceathen had to do this right, so he chanted louder, and louder and louder until his voice was hoarse. Then, at the climax of the incantation, he pulled a knife of obsidian from his belt and slashed at his palm. He held the wound out before him, dripping the final offering of blood onto the slick cave floor for the Child Prince.
He blinked. A few moments past where nothing happened, only a quiet electricity buzzed in the air. Then, suddenly and violently, a tear began to form in the very fabric of space in front of Ceathen. He squeaked in fear, eyes wide at the fact that this was really happening. Inside the rift swirled colors and forms of every maddening shade, undulating and twisting into shapes beyond comprehension. As horrific as the warp was, Ceathen couldn't take his eyes from it. They were locked on the tear, expressions of fear, joy, and madness flickering across them.
Suddenly a voice filled his mind that was all at once smooth and gentle, but with a sarcastic, sneering bite. It flowed over his soul like the smoothest silk. The elf tried to run, but he was paralyzed by some magic emanating from the rift. Sensations of pain and pleasure prickled up his spine, producing a weak whimper from his lips.
You are truly a fool Ceathen, to think that you can control those born of Chaos with your trinkets and words. You seek power yet you don't have the spine to make it for yourself.
A moment of silence passed that seemed like an eternity.
Hmm.. you know, I should end your miserable existance right here and now, but I decided not to. I will help you achieve your dreams, druchii, but at a cost. Your body and eternal soul will be mine forever. A small price to pay, don't you think?
A malicious, screeching laughter filled the druchii's mind, causing him to fall to his knees from the horrific sound, clutching his sensitive ears in pain.
Do you feel it, Ceathen! You will soon come to enjoy that pain! Now come, do not fret, my newest pet. In the future one will tell you, that to truly understand Chaos is to look directly upon it and come out better for doing so. You will understand those words well, my dearest pet. Now go, do my bidding!
And at those last, biting words, all was darkness.