10-16-2013, 03:50 AM
‘It’s just you and me, Amell, and I think it’s time we had a little heart to heart.’
Her blood ran cold as the voice whispered in her ear. There were no distractions to be offered, here; nor did she have Whirda to keep her grounded. It was just the blood mage and the demon that haunted her. She immediately clamped her hands over her ears, turning away from the door and pressing her back against the cold metal, sliding down to the floor.
‘Don’t act like you suddenly have a conscience, Nyxy. I know you better than that, and I think it’s time you did, too.’
The blood mage tightened her grip on her ears. It was futile. The demon didn’t care that she was blocking her ears, he was whispering directly into her head. How was she supposed to defend against that? She couldn’t. It was impossible. She growled in frustration, slamming her fists against the cavern floor.
‘You’re ignoring me now? That’s cute. Why don’t I show you just how close we used to be?’
The malice in the demon’s voice was palpable.
Someone looms over a robed figure, his robes stained with blood. By the looks of things, his attacker is most likely a female, though the hood obscures her face. He coughs and splutters, summoning all of his remaining strength to grab her arm, to plead for his life. She snickers cruelly at him, gazing down at her hands in admiration. They’re stained with blood, and judging by the delight on her face, it’s definitely not her own. She bends over, grabs his collar and pulls him closer to her. He’s too weak to fight back. With her free hand, she trails her fingers past his lips, urging him to taste himself. He cries out desperately, pleading for her to stop. She ignores him, thrusting her fingers into his mouth. He gags at the taste of his own blood, which upsets her. She throws him to the floor, screaming that he’s “wasting it”. She draws her weapon, a dagger, and slits his throat. His blood sprays across her, staining her face and robes, but all she can do is giggle delightedly, like a child on Christmas day. She smears his blood across her face, pressing the tip of her finger on her tongue, tasting her handiwork. Then, she straddles his dying body and presses her hands on his chest. Her eyes and hands glow black, and she begins to absorb his blood...
The blood mage’s heart pounded in her chest as the images flashed through her mind like a grotesque slideshow.
‘Why are you showing me this?!’ she demanded. ‘Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?!’
The demon cackled tauntingly, and for a moment, Nyx swore she could feel it run its claws through her hair. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
Deep down, Nyx had the unsettling feeling that she knew exactly what the demon was indicating, but she certainly didn’t want to accept or acknowledge it in any way. She clenched her fists, nails digging into flesh, beginning to draw blood. She waited for the demon to come back with some kind of witty retort, but she was met with silence.
The woman straightens, having finished draining the body of blood. She lowers her hood, and it’s obvious that the black glow from before has subsided. She turns around, but her face is obscured by her long, black hair. It seems matted where the male’s blood has spattered against her. She sweeps her hair aside, revealing a familiar crimson gaze. Her tongue darts out from between her lips to lap at the blood staining her face, and a smirk plays across her lips...
‘Do you remember me now?’ the demon taunted, and the blood mage could feel its claw tangle in her hair as she struggled to process what she saw. It yanked her head back, slamming her head against the iron door. ‘Because I remember you, Nyxy,’ it whispered threateningly.
The blood mage raised her hands to her face, not wanting to believe what she had seen. To her horror, her hands were covered in blood. The blood dripped onto her clothing, seeping into the fabric and searing her skin. She shrieked in pure, unbridled terror, trying to swat it away. It didn’t work.
‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’ the demon sneered, revelling in her suffering. ‘You should be thanking me!’
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ Nyx repeated.
‘I want you to be all you can be,’ the demon hissed, loosening its grip on her hair. It returned to stroking her with its claws, in what it apparently believed to be a soothing manner. ‘I want you to shed this disgusting innocent little girl routine and remember who you are.’
The blood mage felt numb. She felt as though she should be having some kind of emotional reaction to the torment the demon was putting her through, but she felt nothing. The final flashback – or vision, whatever it was, - had brought with it a terrifying clarity. She was Nyx Amell, one of the Circle Tower’s most formidable magi, and it was time she embraced it. Especially given the way the Professor had treated her – had he seen her for who she truly was before she had? That was an interesting question.
“I am Nyx Amell,” the blood mage muttered darkly, picking herself off of the cavern floor. She dusted off her robes, and faced the iron door.
The demon continued to stroke her hair, almost as though it was grooming her. ‘Yes, you are,’ it agreed, twirling a strand of her hair around its claw, before withdrawing.
The affirmation filled Nyx with a newfound strength. Though her body was physically weak, her spirit surged. She would not allow something as insignificant as an iron door stand between her and the rise to power she felt she deserved. The wound on her hand pulsated pointedly, which gave the blood mage an idea.
Her physical form couldn’t pass through solid iron... but maybe blood could.
Her irises and sclera glowed red. She concentrated on her own blood, feeling her heart pump, becoming acutely aware of the blood as it passed through each of her veins. She thought of its properties, and worked hard to absorb them as her own. Her entire body glowed a deep red, and she felt a strange sensation as her body transformed into pure liquid. It lost its consistency and spilled onto the floor, into a pool.
‘Very nice,’ the demon commented drily. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘I’m full of surprises,’ Nyx taunted, directing her new liquid form towards the iron door. It slid easily beneath the metal and granted her easy access into the room which had hosted all of the githzerai. Whirda and the Professor were nowhere to be seen. The blood swirled, reaching higher and higher until it had sculpted Nyx’s body. The blood coagulated and then subsided, sinking beneath the blood mage’s skin and revealing her natural form. The transformation had visibly weakened her; she seemed fatigued, as though merely standing was an effort.
‘You don’t look so good.’
‘I know,’ Nyx snapped. Her gaze fell upon one of the corpses scattered around the room; the female zerth mage. She stalked towards the body and knelt beside it, moving the zerth’s robes aside and pressing her palms against its scaly flesh. Her irises and sclera flooded with black, her hands beginning to glow black as they had in her dream, as she began to absorb the zerth’s blood. The process took a few minutes, and the blood mage found herself commending her choice of target, as the lizard woman didn’t seem to have lost much blood in the battle.
The blood she absorbed didn’t fully restore her energy, but she felt satisfied that she wouldn’t collapse, and she definitely felt more energized than she had when they had first begun travelling to the den.
‘Aren’t you going to thank me?’ the demon asked plaintively. Nyx ignored it. ‘I see you’re back to your normal self. You’re welcome, by the way.’
Nyx watched the black aura dissipate from her palms and set off in search of Whirda and the Professor.
“We have some catching up to do.”
Her blood ran cold as the voice whispered in her ear. There were no distractions to be offered, here; nor did she have Whirda to keep her grounded. It was just the blood mage and the demon that haunted her. She immediately clamped her hands over her ears, turning away from the door and pressing her back against the cold metal, sliding down to the floor.
‘Don’t act like you suddenly have a conscience, Nyxy. I know you better than that, and I think it’s time you did, too.’
The blood mage tightened her grip on her ears. It was futile. The demon didn’t care that she was blocking her ears, he was whispering directly into her head. How was she supposed to defend against that? She couldn’t. It was impossible. She growled in frustration, slamming her fists against the cavern floor.
‘You’re ignoring me now? That’s cute. Why don’t I show you just how close we used to be?’
The malice in the demon’s voice was palpable.
Someone looms over a robed figure, his robes stained with blood. By the looks of things, his attacker is most likely a female, though the hood obscures her face. He coughs and splutters, summoning all of his remaining strength to grab her arm, to plead for his life. She snickers cruelly at him, gazing down at her hands in admiration. They’re stained with blood, and judging by the delight on her face, it’s definitely not her own. She bends over, grabs his collar and pulls him closer to her. He’s too weak to fight back. With her free hand, she trails her fingers past his lips, urging him to taste himself. He cries out desperately, pleading for her to stop. She ignores him, thrusting her fingers into his mouth. He gags at the taste of his own blood, which upsets her. She throws him to the floor, screaming that he’s “wasting it”. She draws her weapon, a dagger, and slits his throat. His blood sprays across her, staining her face and robes, but all she can do is giggle delightedly, like a child on Christmas day. She smears his blood across her face, pressing the tip of her finger on her tongue, tasting her handiwork. Then, she straddles his dying body and presses her hands on his chest. Her eyes and hands glow black, and she begins to absorb his blood...
The blood mage’s heart pounded in her chest as the images flashed through her mind like a grotesque slideshow.
‘Why are you showing me this?!’ she demanded. ‘Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?!’
The demon cackled tauntingly, and for a moment, Nyx swore she could feel it run its claws through her hair. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
Deep down, Nyx had the unsettling feeling that she knew exactly what the demon was indicating, but she certainly didn’t want to accept or acknowledge it in any way. She clenched her fists, nails digging into flesh, beginning to draw blood. She waited for the demon to come back with some kind of witty retort, but she was met with silence.
The woman straightens, having finished draining the body of blood. She lowers her hood, and it’s obvious that the black glow from before has subsided. She turns around, but her face is obscured by her long, black hair. It seems matted where the male’s blood has spattered against her. She sweeps her hair aside, revealing a familiar crimson gaze. Her tongue darts out from between her lips to lap at the blood staining her face, and a smirk plays across her lips...
‘Do you remember me now?’ the demon taunted, and the blood mage could feel its claw tangle in her hair as she struggled to process what she saw. It yanked her head back, slamming her head against the iron door. ‘Because I remember you, Nyxy,’ it whispered threateningly.
The blood mage raised her hands to her face, not wanting to believe what she had seen. To her horror, her hands were covered in blood. The blood dripped onto her clothing, seeping into the fabric and searing her skin. She shrieked in pure, unbridled terror, trying to swat it away. It didn’t work.
‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’ the demon sneered, revelling in her suffering. ‘You should be thanking me!’
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ Nyx repeated.
‘I want you to be all you can be,’ the demon hissed, loosening its grip on her hair. It returned to stroking her with its claws, in what it apparently believed to be a soothing manner. ‘I want you to shed this disgusting innocent little girl routine and remember who you are.’
The blood mage felt numb. She felt as though she should be having some kind of emotional reaction to the torment the demon was putting her through, but she felt nothing. The final flashback – or vision, whatever it was, - had brought with it a terrifying clarity. She was Nyx Amell, one of the Circle Tower’s most formidable magi, and it was time she embraced it. Especially given the way the Professor had treated her – had he seen her for who she truly was before she had? That was an interesting question.
“I am Nyx Amell,” the blood mage muttered darkly, picking herself off of the cavern floor. She dusted off her robes, and faced the iron door.
The demon continued to stroke her hair, almost as though it was grooming her. ‘Yes, you are,’ it agreed, twirling a strand of her hair around its claw, before withdrawing.
The affirmation filled Nyx with a newfound strength. Though her body was physically weak, her spirit surged. She would not allow something as insignificant as an iron door stand between her and the rise to power she felt she deserved. The wound on her hand pulsated pointedly, which gave the blood mage an idea.
Her physical form couldn’t pass through solid iron... but maybe blood could.
Her irises and sclera glowed red. She concentrated on her own blood, feeling her heart pump, becoming acutely aware of the blood as it passed through each of her veins. She thought of its properties, and worked hard to absorb them as her own. Her entire body glowed a deep red, and she felt a strange sensation as her body transformed into pure liquid. It lost its consistency and spilled onto the floor, into a pool.
‘Very nice,’ the demon commented drily. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘I’m full of surprises,’ Nyx taunted, directing her new liquid form towards the iron door. It slid easily beneath the metal and granted her easy access into the room which had hosted all of the githzerai. Whirda and the Professor were nowhere to be seen. The blood swirled, reaching higher and higher until it had sculpted Nyx’s body. The blood coagulated and then subsided, sinking beneath the blood mage’s skin and revealing her natural form. The transformation had visibly weakened her; she seemed fatigued, as though merely standing was an effort.
‘You don’t look so good.’
‘I know,’ Nyx snapped. Her gaze fell upon one of the corpses scattered around the room; the female zerth mage. She stalked towards the body and knelt beside it, moving the zerth’s robes aside and pressing her palms against its scaly flesh. Her irises and sclera flooded with black, her hands beginning to glow black as they had in her dream, as she began to absorb the zerth’s blood. The process took a few minutes, and the blood mage found herself commending her choice of target, as the lizard woman didn’t seem to have lost much blood in the battle.
The blood she absorbed didn’t fully restore her energy, but she felt satisfied that she wouldn’t collapse, and she definitely felt more energized than she had when they had first begun travelling to the den.
‘Aren’t you going to thank me?’ the demon asked plaintively. Nyx ignored it. ‘I see you’re back to your normal self. You’re welcome, by the way.’
Nyx watched the black aura dissipate from her palms and set off in search of Whirda and the Professor.
“We have some catching up to do.”