Building Anew

[Herald_of_Fate]

Far removed from the fracas that had unfolded at the palace gates, its cyclopian eye sensing the events with an acuity almost machine-like in its throughness, Sigma crouched, his obsidian frame as still as the stone of which it was composed. In truth, the being crouched here was hardly alive, though it moved and acted as if from its own volition. Such was the existence of most constructs, inanimate objects given life by mystical means. In Sigma's case, the means was ichorwyck, a black, viscous substance that was in many places illegal to deal in. Such facts mattered little to Sigma; little mattered at all to him, in fact, save the completion of his given task.

It was precisely that task that brought him here, far from the place he'd been manufactured to the holdings of the Fey Queen. Though golems, which is what Sigma was, were primarily Fey creations, humans who managed to attain the necessary magical and mental prowess to psychically control such a monster were capable of creating them. And of all the people to claim as master, the Magister Prima of Xelion was one of some distinction, at least in the far southern land that was his home. Long holding the Fey and other non-human species as responsible for the events that caused the Rift Event that had devastated his country, the supreme dictator of Xelion had made it his mission to hunt down and destroy all Fey. With his legions of fanatical followers and even magically enslaved Fey, he planned to crush them utterly. But that was the future; for now, he only watched and observed via his stone minions, of which Sigma was only one. Several others remained just within the treeline, their rocky bodies covered in mosses and lichen, hidden perfectly by the terrain.

An angel, a Merfolk, and a Siren here...apparently they were involved in their own conflict. With one party using bewitched humans as shock troops. The Magister, watching through Sigma's mammoth eye, shook with rage. It seemed that the Fey had no real regard for these humans, using them as weapons and shields. These people strangely were not fighting the Fey, rather they seemed overjoyed. Fooled by the Fey magic, he mused. These things had no place in the human world, bringing their immortal lifespans and unnatural magics, using humans as they saw fit. They were invaders and must be met with the sword. But he'd have to move carefully, poison the people against them. Perhaps he'd set his golems upon the people, then send in his missionary corps. to spread his propaganda among the citizens. These creatures had nearly ended the world once; he could not sit by until they gathered the means to do so again.

Silently he ordered his golems to pull back. For now too much power seemed concentrated here. An attack would accomplish nothing with so small a force. Better to let his missionaries work and then apply a bit of force. Perhaps the Siren could be used to further his own goals, if he could obtain her from them. He pondered what type of force might be necessary to take her. He'd have to divide his enemies first, draw them out as individuals if possible, then strike just long enough to get away with her. Her powers could be useful, very useful indeed.

[Shin]

Ryuku

The way that they reacted around one another caused Ryuku to smile despite himself, a rare show of emotion from the Monk. Like Vylrath and likely the other male here Ryuku could sense many things, of course, the way in which they did was probably far different from his own. Ryuku closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, he could feel the life forces of everyone in the castle. In truth Ryuku was capable of painting a picture in his mind with the natural Chi that all living beings had.

He stepped to the side as Vylrath moved to leave, opening his eyes and letting their emerald gaze fall on Igraine and the sword that she now had. “Your father is correct in that I cannot touch the item.” Ryuku smiled honestly and moved closer to inspect the weapon but not touch it.

“However, I can sense his inner turmoil. He is worried about the taint that you carry. As he should be, it can spread if you are not careful.” Ryuku sat on a wooden chair then, all but ignoring the presence of the other man in the room. “It cannot be healed either, even the angel Kahlan could not heal you of that taint. There is hope though… there is always hope.” Ryuku smiled again, leaning closer, as if to tell Igraine a secret.

“You can rid yourself of the taint. Only you are capable of purifying your own soul. No deity can do that for you. And I can teach you how..” He leaned back then, crossing his arms and closing his eyes, he had said all he intended to, his purpose was served for the moment.

--

D’Angelo wasted no time in ushering the Siren forward, now surrounded by three rings of guards as well as having the Angelo and Merefolk so near he doubted the creature would so much as utter a word. Yet, there was no reason to not gag her. And so D’Angelo tore a piece of cloth from the bottom of his shirt and went to gag the siren, not so kindly either.

He left William to his devices, wary of the new individual, yet he understood it was not his place to question help where it was given. “I will guard the Siren.” He spoke as he ushered her forwards, his left hand gripping the back of her neck and his eyes cast over her shoulder, purposely not looking at her, knowing full well that lust would become paramount in his mind if he did.

“A…. a King?” William echoed the words, pausing for a moment to consider this Slyail Undertow. After a moment he took the webbed hand in his own and gave it a strong shake. “Well met King Slyail Undertow. I am William Hawk, no fancy title though.” William paused again, retracting his hand and looking around at the people gathered around them, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable and shifted his shoulders to bring the cowl of his color changing cloak back over to hide his strong and beautiful features.

“I’ve never met a King before. Only Queens, and at that, only one and only once. Truthfully I don’t see many people, just other Fey… sprites mainly, the occasional Nymph.” William rambled nervously, speaking so that only the King could hear him. It was obvious that despite his earlier bravado William did not like large groups of people.


“My friend… should be following. I … sort of forgot about her, a water Nymph by the name of Nimue. She was out by the stream…” He trailed off, gazing up into the sky for a moment. “I should really go back and get her. She’ll never forgive me if I don’t.” William chuckled nervously and with but a thought activated the magic in his cloak, which quickly changed to blend him in with his surroundings. “If you’ll excuse me… I should make sure she is ok.” William smiled and then turned and sprinted off, his long strides carrying him back the way he came towards Nimue and more importantly, far away from the crowd of people.

[Igraine]

The sword dropped out of Igraine's hands after Vylrath left. It laid on the bed as Ryuku examined it and Igraine examined her own hands. She frowned but listened as the Monk spoke and when he said the answer was with her she looked up at him and nodded.

"I will learn from you." That was all that was required for her to say, and that was all that she said to the Monk. He had a calming presence about him that no one in her family, save herself, possessed. Her mother had some qualities of being a calming individual, but mostly she was tempestuous and a warrior.

"Trydian, you still haven't told me what the King expects of me." Her voice was quiet and calm as she looked at her half brother. The coverlet on the bed had slipped down to her waist. She wasn't afraid of these two men hurting her or trying anything unseemly. Besides, she was pregnant and that had enough entanglements in itself.

"I see you've been with Thorin." The name sounded like a deathknell falling from her lips and she shook her shoulders ever so slightly, a gesture that the Monk probably wouldn't miss -- even with his eyes closed. "He had that sword before he left...abruptly." Igraine sighed and rested her head back on the pillows behind her and looked up at the canopy of her bed. It was a rich dark blue that other pieces in the room drew from. It was one of her favorite colors and so she had used it willingly. It calmed her, much like the colors of the sea calmed her.

"I just get the feeling that he meant well, even if he did taint us." It was a statement that was spoken plainly to the men in the room, though spoken to neither in general.

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Kahlan was amused as the cloak came heavily around the Siren's shoulders. Someone had finally given up their cloak in an effort to save their peers. Kahlan reached up and tugged it closed tightly, forcing the Siren to drop her snared hands. Her eyes jumped up at the sound of William's voice walking away and she smiled and called after him.

"Thank you, you really must come and meet my daughter. She will thank you for your contribution to keeping this...creature under control."

Kahlan motioned D'Angelo forward through the opening gates. She turned to the people and raised her hands for their attention. They all knew her for the Dowager High Queen of Ulster. They understood that she had willingly given up her position on the Throne so that her daughter might rule. The people were happy to know that Kahlan was still around and as startlingly beautiful now as she was eighty years ago. Though there were few that knew her to be Queen much longer than that.

"Thank you for your help today in rooting out this creature. I am sorry that she made pawns of all of you. I think all of you are brave for standing here willing to fight her for your Queen. If you would follow these guards here you will all be compensated for your troubles." When most of the people made excuses why the money shouldn't be given, slightly embarassed at being paid for cheering or booing, Kahlan smiled and shook her head. "I insist. I know that crops are being planted, that clothes need to be mended and made, food needs to be produced. I understand all of this and so for most of your day being gone all of you have lost money and deserve compensation for your troubles. Just follow the guards, Master Blackburn will see that you get all of the money that you need to get your day set straight."

Everyone that walked past her, probably a hundred or so souls, touched Kahlan's hand or arm and smiled generously at her. Let it not be said that the Ulsterians were treated poorly. Kahlan understood how to deal with humans and she loved them for their spontaneity and their deep emotion. She cast one more glance over her shoulder to see the red haired woman standing quietly by the side of the far river, the woman she assumed William was headed for, and followed the crowd into the city gates of Emain Macha.

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Nimue got on her tiptoes as the crowd started to go inside. She frowned, hoping that William hadn't forgotten about her. Hiking her skirts she waded into the water of the river a short distance and danced about. Surely he would come back for her. She wanted to meet this Queen and that Angel. Surely the Angel had to be the Lady Kahlan. Nimue skipped around in the shallows stopping momentarily to pick up a heart shaped rock that had tumbled in the currents of this river since it's creation. She picked it up and turned it over in her palm, loving how smooth it was against her skin. She kissed the rock and tucked it into a pocket of her skirt. Perhaps if she ever found a man she truely cared for he might understand the meaning of this rock. Centuries to create and whittle down to the shape it was, this rock was sort of like a theme that fit her perfectly. Nimue was still learning, but she didn't mind. In fact, she loved learning quite a bit.

[Trydian]

“I only know that he wants an audience with you. I don't know what he will be discussing with you.” Trydian said, glaring after his father when he exited. When Igraine mentioned the sword, his body tensed. She and Thorin had been romantically involved, but he had to put that fact past him.

“I took the blade from him by force. He would have gone mad without my intervention.” Trydian explained, watching her curious face inspect the blade. The blade had actually called out to him, but she didn't need to know that detail. He was thankful that it rested in her hands now, even if she suffered from a taint caused by Thorin.

"He is not the man you once knew. Something is eating at his core..."

If there was one thing in common he had with his father, it was they both hated Thorin with a passion. He knew that Igraine was not naïve at all, unlike his sister. She held intelligence in her eyes, but she was the daughter of Kahlan.

“Igraine...I know everything is hard to grasp right now, but I need to know your response to King Pendaran. I do not know what he is capable of, if you do refuse.”

When the monk got closer to Igraine, Trydian backed away. He didn't like the man's presence, but that was only because of what he was. He spoke kindly to Igraine, but Trydian was surprised at the respect he gave his father.

“Thorin may come looking for her and try to kill her. The last I saw him, he had enough power to taint the Vuri lake.” Trydian paused, knowing that Igraine would understand, but the monk would be left clueless. “It is a cleansing lake for father's race, the Vuri. Some how, Thorin managed to completely change its properties. I'm sure my mother will want to know this.” Trydian didn't mention Vylrath, having thought of his mother as the Matriarch. He wasn't involved in Vuri clan matters, but he may as well been, with everything he had seen.

“You will want to watch over her monk .While my sister has powerful friends, she has also gained powerful enemies.” Trydian looked toward Igraine, knowing she might not take everything so lightly. “I will need your response before sun down. That is when I plan on leaving to report to the King.”

It would be unwise for Igraine to ignore the King's request. Not giving an answer, could be just as deadly as refusing. Trydian didn't want to see his sister's suffer for ignorance.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath was listening to the conversations from outside in the hallway. He had already done some damage to the castle. There would be physical evidence of his anger with the guards and walls. When the guards questioned his behavior, he naturally responded with a fist. His strength was enough to knock a grown mortal man unconscious. Even though they weren't average guards, he would be awakening his pure Vuri essence in full force.

The others would feel the ominous power, but mainly Kahlan would sense the change first. Vylrath had an unusual bond with the archangel. While most men like him should fear her, he felt drawn to her inevitably.

He had failed as a father before, but he didn't want to fail with Igraine. Yes, she could eventually be healed..maybe even cured, but the baby would be born long before that. Morgana would be lost to it and her mother would grow sick from the power invading her body.

It didn't help him to attack her own guards, but his rage never helped him think logically. Igraine and the others would hear his temper tantrum. It was a reaction that Isabella was the most used to witnessing. When the others returned to the castle, they would see his handy work in the hallways.

Breathing inward, he tried to control his thoughts. It would be near impossible to calm himself willingly. He promised himself that he wouldn't do this to her, but the thought of Thorin harming her had sparked something unnatural.

If he only had his old blade...

Opening the door to the room, he would appear dramatically changed. Notably, his eyes had shifted from a calm blue, to an almost milky white that covered the true color of the iris. “You aren't going anywhere, Igraine.” He exhaled, finding it difficult to even converse normally. “Not unless I go with you...I'm not about to let my daughter be tricked by some bastard wayward King.” Moving toward her, she would naturally fear his presence, but his thoughts wouldn't be with her reaction.

“Give me the sword, Igraine. You do not understand what you hold.” The Vuri power was more of a parasite. It was something in their blood that forced their senses to succumb to a berserker rage. Because she had been given a dark blessing by a Vuri, Vylrath could sense her more clearly. If he wanted, he could even speak to her telepathically.

Your father is here to protect you...give me the blade. The voice in her head might startle her, but his hand reached out to her as he beckoned for the blades hilt. She would feel a pull, almost as if she were in a deep haze that she could not escape. Vylrath was using his powers to the full potential and openly taking advantage. Once the blade was in his hands, he had plans for Thorin and the King. If he had to, he would seek them both out on his own. He had taken care of dangerous enemies before. Just because one was his own blood, didn't mean that he should treat it differently.

Ryuku and Trydian would obviously be alarmed by his show of power and force on Igraine. The dark branding had been a curse and a gift all in one. While she would have the gift to hold marked weapons, she would also be able to see the Unseelie creatures. Vylrath's hold on her, wouldn't be as strong as the other Vuri. Since Igraine was only marked, she would have more of her free will. While Igraine had her free will, she also had a love and devotion to her father that made her vulnerable to his current actions.

[Herald_of_Fate]

Damn, Slyail thought, it seems these Vuri all have issues controlling themselves. The vibrant thrum of the air that surrounded all members of the race had intensified into a maddening fever-pitch crescendo at Vylrath's outburst. The Merrow nearly had to grit his teeth to keep the sensation from clouding his awareness. His blood ran cold as he momentarily considered the possibilities. Was the Siren's attack a mere diversion to a more direct attempt on the Queen?
Motioning for several of the guards to escort the Siren to the dungeons, the Water Mage locked gazes with D'Angelo and Kahlan in turn, nodding toward the Queen's direction. Given his estimation of their powers, he knew that they too would somehow sense such a force. He rushed to the gardens silently, pausing only to check those guards still unconscious from catching the brunt of the sire of the Vuri brood.

Only a matter of moments passed since Vylrath's entrance into the Queen's presence and Slyail burst in, his eyes pulsating with blue light, his hands surrounded by swirling orbs of water. There was a notable drop in both temperature and moisture in the air as the Merrow King brought his full power to the surface as well as a increase in air pressure that seemed to press in on Vylrath. Though his voice was a calm whisper, there could be little mistaking the deadly seriousness or the authority in Slyail's voice, like the calm before a storm.

"Control yourself, Vuri...would you now endanger the very person you chose to return to protect? I will warn you once, and only once to step no closer to Queen Igraine until you've come to your senses!!!"

A fog rolled into the ruined apothecary, rising to shroud Igraine and the others in the room from view. It was a more psychological tactic than anything else, meant to change his focus to the Water Mage and awy from the vulnerable Queen.
Judging by the intensity of the sensation in comparison to that produced by Thorin, the Merrow knew he was dealing with a being of very large-scale volitile power. Still people tended to underestimate one with control over an element that more or less was involved intimately with all life and was an extraordinarily effective killer. If Vylrath could not gain some measure of control, Slyail would not hesitate to kill him...in a manner that would likely be very painful and not necessarily quick.









---------

Helena felt the rise in Vylrath's power like a dinner bell; only the presence of so many powerful entities in close proximity and willing to end her existence at a whisper kept her from salivating. As it was, it was a natural biological response for her to release a flash flood of phermones from her pores, a way to entice her quarry to her. The effects of such phermones varied in intensity from person to person, but depended on the sin tainting a soul to take root. Some of the guards found it nearly impossible to keep from touching the Siren, though it was done subtly, fearing the prospect of being punished for failing to follow orders. A sudden hard grip on the shoulder, a lingering shove to her back, a brush across her forearm...by the time they forced her into a small but tidy cell, lined with heavy lead doors and deposited her within, she felt properly groped and fondled. Not that she minded...or truly even noticed. Her sanguine features were a mask of sheer anticiption, a near bliss at the sheeer depth and timbre of the tainted soul of Vylrath raging. It was like the promise of a feast to a starving man. While it should have disturbed her to find such a soul in the Seelie stronghold, it was less than an afterthought. She was absolutely ravenous, chewing at her cloth gag out of reflex, the wave of her phermones wafting through the palace.

[Shin]

A bemused chuckle betrayed Ryuku’s controlled features, he was still sitting on the chair when Vylrath burst into the room, still calm and relaxed. He had felt the man’s turmoil on the other side of the wall, Vylrath wore his emotions on his sleeve. That was something that would never change.

Vylrath was nothing but hot air in Ryuku’s mind and despite the impressive display of power Ryuku wasn’t worried, in truth, he was amused and the smile he displayed as he got to his feet and positioned himself between father and daughter. “You are too late Vylrath. Your daughter is now my pupil, my Gai’shan and I her Master. Blood relation or not, your authority as her father is no more.” Ryuku spoke with clarity and enough strength for everyone to hear, including the arriving Merrow and Angel.

“She is my shadow now.” Ryuku looked over his shoulder briefly, his emerald eyes studying Igraine momentarily. “I will remain here so that she may continue as Queen. But those duties will be second to my teachings. I will help her become cleansed of the taint, though it will be a long and difficult process that will be slowed greatly because of your current…. Condition.”

“And for you,” Ryuku turned then to face the demonic thing that came pleading for help. “ I will discuss your proposition with Igraine and Kahlan. Only then will my pupil be permitted to grant you an answer.” Ryuku clasped both hands behind his back and stood, waiting for somebody to disagree with him. Igraine likely had no idea what she had just gotten herself into.

[Igraine]

Kahlan was tired, bone weary from the exposure of her power. Her true form was even worse. Centuries ago she had found some middle ground where she could expose her true self without having the harmful effects of Heaven's Wrath showering over everyone within a hundred yard radius. The form that she had taken today was still a drain on her power and years of disuse made it an even tougher strain on her. Kahlan was old and she was feeling it.

She was walking up the steps and into the front of the castle near the stairwell to Igraine's rooms when she frowned. She tilted her head up and sniffed the air with a deeper frown. The problem with pheromones was the scent that they left behind. The Siren's pheromones were leaking all over the castle and Kahlan covered her eyes with her hand and sighed heavily. She just didn't have the energy to deal with a sexual creature right now. She certainly didn't have the energy to deal with a castle full of men going insane over the feeling in their pants.

Kahlan climbed the stairs, using measured breaths in order not to inhale too much of the pheromone leaking out of the Siren like a broken faucet. The longer they were in this situation the harder it would be to resist her...charm. The deepset fog in the hallway caused Kahlan some alarm as she walked toward her daughter's room. Heavy condensation gathered in her hair making it sparkle in the light of the room as she entered. Kahlan had navigated these halls for decades, knowing down to the step where everything was located, almost obsessively.

"What is going on?" Her voice sounded hollow to her and she frowned, cleared her throat, and spoke again. "Is there some trouble?" Her voice took on the serene sound it usually carried, though not without effort. Vylrath and Igraine knew her best out of those gathered and would see the soft shadows under her eyes and the gentle waiver in her step. They would know how incredibly tired she was but the others wouldn't. Perhaps Ryuku would notice the difference in her energy level if he scratched beneath the surface, but to the naked eye she looked completely at ease. A Queen couldn't look weak.

"I see you are looking better my dear." Kahlan stepped around Ryuku and leaned down and kissed her daughter's head gently. Her hand brushed the chaos sword and she snatched it back quickly. She didn't burn because there was Sin on her soul -- the black flecks on her wings being a physical symbol of that. It was not something she wanted to be near, however.

"What is THAT doing here? VYLRATH...!" Kahlan turned to look at him with a silent simmering rage barely contained beneath the surface. If she was younger, or if she hadn't been as tired, Vylrath might have been in some serious trouble. As it was she sat heavily on the edge of the bed and covered her face with her hands. No one could feed her energy. She had to sleep this weary state off.

"Whatever the current state of affairs is in this room, we have a bigger issue. Lift your heads and sniff the air. Smell anything different? Our Siren is leaking. We were so taken with her voice that we didn't even realize she has a second line of defense at her disposal. She is leaking some weird scent that I wager is probably useful in turning people in her favor. She has to die if we're to ever be safe. We can't protect against our sense of smell, it would leak through anything we tried. For all we know it could leak into our pores."

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Igraine rested a hand against her mother's back.

"Trydian. I will see the Unseelie King. Under certain conditions. I am to come with my Father and my Teacher, there will be NO glamours, and no prisoners will be taken. We will discuss his terms and I will be free to leave with my niece. Give him these ultimatums and leave us to discuss how to do what we must." Igraine looked at everyone in the room, her eyes falling on Slyail finally. She sneezed a little at the fog in the room and shook her head.

"Would you let the fog dissipate, please?" It was asked nicely and only once. Igraine looked to her mother and Vylrath and Ryuku and shrugged her shoulders. "I have no choice. I have to go meet him. Mother, you can't come. He would only try to ensnare you and you are so exhausted -- No, listen." Igraine raised her hand when Kahlan tried to protest. "You're beyond exhausted despite how you try to hide it. I can't let you fall prey to the Unseelie King in your current state. It would kill you to even attempt to hold your true form for any length of time."

When her mother said nothing she knew she spoke truth. Igraine looked at Vylrath and motioned to the sword on the bed. "Take it, I don't want it. It feels dirty and unclean. It is a disturbing feeling that tries to take root in my chest and I don't like it. The Siren, I can feel my sympathy rising for her. She has to be dealt with. I hate to kill another Fey but it has to be done. Someone has to be the one to cut her head from her shoulders. She is a poor bargaining chip and she would only taint the information she gives us with her voice and her scent."

Igraine herself was still tired, though somewhat refreshed by food and the energy used to keep her alive. She sighed heavily and glanced out of the window nearby, cutting through the misty fog with a vengence. Killing was something she wasn't used to sanctioning and she felt her mother slide a hand over one of hers and squeeze it.

"We have to discuss what we're going to do once the Siren is dead. I don't trust her not to be able to relay some information to the Unseelie King through scents. If she can force us to love her through her own smell -- what is to say she can't read our scents and understand their language? I don't like it. We will discuss our journey after she is dead. Father, I charge you with the task because no one else in this room is going to be capable of doing it -- least of all me. I might have a broken heart but I don't have the stomach for murder and I would not subject the growing child within me to that act or the lure of the Siren."

Igraine looked at Ryuku, pondering what he said about her being his pupil. Her current condition would hinder any training he would do, but she would be diligent and her mother would pick up any Queenly duties that might fall through her weary hands. It would be interesting, that was for sure, and the taint would have to be cleansed somehow -- or she would eventually die from it eating the Angelic part of her soul.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath glared at Slyail, who obviously thought he had gone insane. At that moment, he would have gladly made an enemy out of him, but they needed more allies. Swallowing his pride, he let his anger cool the moment Kahlan entered the room. Just her presence, was enough to put him into a stupor.

“I am quite sane...you have not seen my true temper. Do yo want your Queen to go mad when she touches the blade?” Vylrath asked Slyail, trying to make him see that he was protecting Igraine from a madness. “If she touches that thing, she will never gain control of herself.” Shrugging, he made his argument valid by pointing out the obvious. “If you try to save her from it, she will cut you down without a single regret.”

Vylrath understood why Slyail came to her rescue. To a normal person, he was sure he looked like he was threatening her. The sword had the ability to beckon and cloud the senses of a tainted soul. Trydian could easily hold the blade, but it appeared as if he wanted nothing to do with it.

Gingerly taking the hilt, he felt himself bond with the blades energy. It wouldn't be a pleasant experience. Memories from old, would flood his mind, making his thought process almost impossible to control. With Kahlan and the monk in the room, he was able to focus on their energy. Vylrath wasn't sure how long that would last though- they needed to move hurry.

Holding the sword, as if it were weighted with something unnatural, he motioned toward Slyail with the tip of the blade. “You will come with me. The Queen has enough people protecting her. I will need your gift to confuse her while I prepare my attack.” He spoke to Slyail respectfully, but it would be difficult not to look intimidating in front of someone so foreign to him. “Unless you're afraid?” He openly taunted the strange man, knowing it might hit a nerve with all of that pride.

When Kahlan asked what they would do with the body, he responded almost nonchalantly. These events were wearing on all of them, even on someone like himself. “Let Caela have the remains. She hasn't fed yet. I'll bring the body back for her.” Vylrath cringed when Kahlan mentioned her broken heart. At least he hadn't been responsible for it. Both of them knew what had to be done and maybe it was a sign he was meant to carry the weapon. Neither of his sons held the amount of taint to wield it.

Even though he remained calm, his soul was being held captive by the properties of the blade. Slyail would almost be like a guide to the Siren. If Slyail refused, he would simply confront her on his own and hope that Ryuku had the strength to calm him from the madness.

“Lead me to her...we may have our differences, but we have one goal in common. We should put our forces together.” Vylrath would be using all of his will to simply not go berserk. His kill would have to be a concentrated move, with all of the source from the blade. He was beginning to feel as if his mind was slowly being pulled into a dark tunnel.

When Ryuku spoke of his new proposition with his daughter, he smirked. “Just as long as you don't bed with her later, you can do whatever you want with her teachings. As for my authority...she hasn't had me in her life, until recently.” Vylrath wasn't proud of admitting that fact. “She has her mother's stubbornness. I doubt she'd listen to me either way.”

Vylrath was slowly feeling his body shift, albeit painfully. Having the chaos sword was not something that someone would necessarily desire to always have on their person. The power was like a sickness that resembled an incurable poison. His eyes remained stricken, but he began to look gaunt in the face.

The blade would take his energy, in exchange for using its power. They would thrive off of each other. If he continued to use the blade, he would inevitably become its host.

It was ill-fated trade, one that he didn't like revisiting. Vylrath thrust the blade into the ground, only to hold himself up by the hilt. His hair began to age to a blanched corpse-like white, while cheek bones appeared sunken, as if his life might draw from his chest a final time.

When he spoke again, it sounded as if his voice came from some disembodied being. Looking toward Kahlan, he only saw her brilliance, regardless she was weakened from her feat. “I'll spill the bitches blood.” If Slyail didn't comply, then he was sure that someone else would. He wasn't sure how much longer he would have his free will, the dark cloud was quickly descending in his mind.

[Trydian]

Trydian scoffed at the display by Vylrath. She had been foolish for handing him the sword. He took it as a personal offense, having wanted to protect her from what Vylrath was becoming. Growling through words, he started to walk toward the door. He ignored others in the room, but he did focus his attention on Vylrath. Vylrath might be abl e to control himself still, but that didn't mean he didn't have something personal with him.

“I will give the message to King Pendaran. By refusing to go alone, you have just jeopardized Sebilla's life.” Trydian stopped and glared at Vylrath for a moment. He turned back around, only long enough to see what he could have become. The sword was a curse for Igraine. He didn't give a damn about his father's well being.

“I tried to protect you from the blade and you give it to the being who raped my mother. I will have no pity for you when he turns on you.” Just as the fog rolled in, Trydian used that cue to exit into the realm of King Pendaran.

The King would not be happy...at all. Trydian was actually timid to report the message to him. If Igraine showed up with his father in his state, he knew that Vylrath wouldn't hesitate to attack King Pendaran.

Travelling to the Unseelie world, he pondered a believable story to feed to the King.

[Shin]

While everyone rushed to the Queens aid D’Angelo fought a battle of his own. Hidden behind a controlled posture and hidden feelings he struggled with his clouding thoughts. Surely a creature as beautiful as the Siren couldn’t be evil, perhaps misunderstood.

D’Angelo stroked his chin in thought as he peered down the corridor that the creature was taken. They hadn’t even tried to communicate with the Siren at first, diplomacy hadn’t been tried at all. D’Angelo’s thought slowly turned and he found himself walking towards the cell that she was being held.

He had to speak to her.

“Step aside, I must speak to the Siren.” D’Angelo ordered a pair of guards who were obviously arguing amongst themselves. They looked up in unison half caught between the aromas in the air and their duty. D’Angelo didn’t hesitate, springing forward he cupped one soldiers chin under his left hand while his right struck out to strike the throat of the second guard.

A few moments later both guards laid unconscious in the hall and D’Angelo held the keys to the cell in his hand. He had to speak with her; he had to know why she was here.

As he descended deeper underground, to where the cells were that held the prisoners D’Angelo could smell the strong pheromones but couldn’t place them. Instead he focused his keen hearing on the sounds of arguing and struggling in the hallway. A closer examination upon reaching the end of the stairs showed three guards struggling with one another, shouting, yelling and ready to draw their weapons.

D’Angelo moved as quick as lightning and as quiet as a shadow, both weapons were drawn. The first guard fell swiftly; a large gash opened his neck by the jagged short sword in D’Angelo’s left hand. The second fell to surprise as well, run through the heart by the long sword. The third however, had time to mount a proper defense and battled D’Angelo for a brief moment before being dispatched by pure ferocity. He paused briefly to clean off both weapons before sheathing them and turning to the cell.

An audible click and the heavy door was pulled open, revealing D’Angelo shrouded in his cloak and the shadows. “We have to get you to safety.” He spoke surprisingly calm for a man that had just dispatched three guards.

[Igraine]

With Trydian leaving Igraine shook her head. He obviously didn't understand what was going on and she wasn't going to contradict him. He wouldn't believe her if she tried to defend herself so she wasn't going to waste the breath. Igraine watched her father's transformation with a completely straight face. Perhaps the blade was something that required an indecently hot forge to destroy. One day, some how, Igraine would find a way to destroy the Chaos Blade.

With a sigh she pushed aside the coverlet and with her mother's help got to her feet.

"You should be resting." Kahlan's tone was mothering and quiet.

"I can't rest when the castle is coming alive with desire." Igraine tugged on the long thick gown covering her body. She felt like an old maid in the dress as it gathered loosely around her slender wrists and pooled on the floor around her feet. The young woman wasn't uncomfortable with the men in the room -- they were no threat to her with her mother standing there, much less with Vylrath standing there. The monk was vastly uninterested in anything physical and Igraine could respect that on more than one level. Her emerald eyes found the window and she walked toward it, holding herself regally though she felt sore from the neck down. With a swipe of one slender hand Igraine cleaned the window of condensation from the fog and peered out over the water swept land in the distance. The sight of a man with a red haired woman by the bank of the far river caught her eye. She tilted her head as she watched some discussion happen between them and the young woman was running for the castle.

Igraine's eyes studied the man from afar. She couldn't see his features but what she could see she liked. He was very obviously handsome and very obviously Fae. The young woman running to the castle was also Fae, and the wet hem of her skirts marked her as something of a Nymph perhaps. There was no negative energies gleaned off of them, so Igraine made no comment as the red haired beauty disappeared into the castle. She hoped, almost wildly, that the man would join her.

"Father, go see if you can't at least scare her. This scent is going to drive everyone mad." Igraine turned to look at Vylrath hulking like some ghastly undead creature near the doorway to her bedroom.


------------------------------------------------

Nimue had spoken to William briefly, enamored as she was she couldn't let the man escape her sights. Not with that awful Siren creature being lead about before him.

"Oh Will, didn't you see him? You spoke to him!" Before William could really react to anything she'd said, Nimue bolted for the castle. She was quick, as many Fae creatures are, and inside the castle. Through the sickening cloud of pheromones the Nymph could barely smell the human man that she had set her sights on.

D'Angelo.

Nimue felt her way along down the stairs to the dungeons, hopping over the bodies and stopping short at the sight of the corpses on the floor. D'Angelo's back was to her. She admired the powerful spread of the muscles along his back and arms but she frowned tightly at the sight of the Siren.

"Why did you hurt these men? For her? She's nothing special." Nimue was incredibly sensual in her own right, and she didn't need chemicals and a pretty singing voice to accomplish that. Oh sure, she could sing beautifully -- but there was nothing but pure beauty behind it. The Nymph was intensely looking at D'Angelo. Her presence would be enough to at least rattle him, startle him, work him into wondering what the hell was going on and where these beautiful women were coming from.

Nimue, as a nymph, relied on her body to do the talking. Encased in a pale green dress that left little to the imagination, tight as it was all the way down to her hips, Nimue looked very alluring even in the low light of the dungeons. Actually, she looked even better because her eyes were soft and innocent, the gentle set of her mouth begged for a kiss -- even if it was just one kiss. Truely though, who could ever kiss that mouth just once? If D'Angelo spared a glance to the rest of her he would find nothing lacking. Nimue's figure was as close to perfect as any woman could get, and the gentle slope of her neck and shoulder were inviting for a soft kiss or loving nuzzle.

Where the Siren used trickery, Nimue just used sex. When she was infatuated with a male she went all out for him. Sure, the fact that she couldn't be pinned down unless they took the locket around her neck...but they didn't know that. Only a man could take the locket and ensnare her in his world, no woman would ever be able to touch the locket -- not even the Siren.

"Surely you don't want to save her. Maybe you would like to come with me? I have a few things I could show you..." Nimue's eyes were twinkling with merriment. They were a deep blue, like the blue of a deep limestone lake, and she was incredibly happy to be near D'Angelo -- even if he was under a spell.

Nimue held out a hand to D'Angelo. He could try to strike her down, but he would fail. The Siren might try to tighten her hold on him, but with Nimue here it would be more difficult. She was pulling on her abilities as a Nymph to counteract the awful Siren's abilities.

If the eventually landed in a heap on the floor without any clothes? Well that was just a perk in her goal to save the man she had seen from across the field. All he had to do was take her hand and he would be protected. Even if he just took it to throw her aside to get her out of the way he would wake up out of the haze he was in. It was as if he were stepping away from the Siren and into Nimue's circle of magic.

"Come with me, please. I think that you need to see what I want to show you." And that was loaded with so much sexual innuendo that most men would blush and race away to the nearest dark corner, but even if D'Angelo didn't want to do that -- all he had to do was touch her.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath stood up finally, taking his sword out from the ground. Smirking he only looked ahead and seemed to answer to no one in particular. “First time that a woman went through that much trouble to get my attention...wish it happened more often.” This time, however, he responded to Igraine when she made her request. “I'll do more than scare her....I don't get in this form for kicks.” Pausing, he rethought his words. “Well, maybe I used to.” He looked back to the men gathered in the room. “I think they need some mother and daughter time. Maybe you should all wait out in the hallway until it's over.” Vylrath merely suggested, not at all thinking they would take his advice. He wasn't in the best form, or voice for convincing others right now.

He decided to venture forward on his own. If the other men wanted to join him in the effort, then he wasn't about to stop him, but he doubted many would be able to actually fight the Siren without effects. Leaving the room wasn't the hard part, but he had to control his senses and not be consumed by the Siren's power. Having always been easy to be controlled by women, this made the job even harder.

The first scent came from the obvious Siren, but she wasn't as intoxicating as the new presence that he was feeling. Nearing the dungeon stairs, he realized that the Siren would be the first woman he would actually kill. In his normal visage, he might be bothered, but he only saw the Siren as a job to accomplish. Her life had to end for the safety of Igraine and all of those involved.

D'Angelo was the first one he noticed right away. He had unknowingly freed the Siren, his betrayal obviously caused by the bitches charm. Sighing, Vylrath wondered how he could talk to a smitten man like D'Angelo. The man would deny anything accused, so pissing him off wouldn't benefit either one of them. Dragging his sword across the stone ground, it was as if he wanted the sound to alert all that were gathered.

“Well, looks like you can get women after all.” His colorless eyes looked toward Nimue. Her presence didn't make him wary, in fact, it was very welcoming and encouraging. “Don't tell me you're her sister. I'd hate to take a pretty thing like you to the grave.” Vylrath said, not knowing what to make of the situation. Nimue was beckoning toward D'Angelo, but it wasn't in any sort of hostile way. His gaze fixed on the Siren, while he moved toward D'Angelo and Nimue. He felt a sort of comfort with the new woman.

His power emanated from him full throttle. He didn't think that there would be time for formal greetings, so he simple blurted his name and reason for being there. Vylrath didn't know why D'Angelo was present, but he did remember him very well- he had been the one to tell him to shut up. “I'm Vylrath, her executioner. If you aren't with Queen Igraine, then you'll be feeling my blade.” It would probably surprise Nimue, to find that he was only enamored by her for now. It would be difficult for Nimue to shackle his senses, like she could with a human like D'Angelo.

“I don't know you, or what you're doing to my friend there, but you seem too pretty to be evil.” He watched the Siren again, still speaking to Nimue and pointing out the obvious. “Make sure you keep my friend interested in you, so he doesn't try to attack me.” He further explained, putting her up to the task without an argument. Vylrath wasn't in the mood to discuss politics. He didn't even know what the hell she was, but her charm was working on D'Angelo.

If he suddenly attacked D'Angelo, even out of defense, he would never hear the end of it from Igraine. Vylrath doubted that D'Angelo could survive a fight against him. It was tough being a human in this sort of world, but he had to admire him for at least trying.

He brought the blade forward, with the blade tip pointed toward the ground. His arm became tensed and ready for its first strike toward the Siren. Keeping near Nimue, he had an odd sensation that she was able to handle herself in something like this.

I'll make sure my blade doesn't come near you, just do your part. He said in her mind, wondering how he would be able to handle the intense sensations from both women at once.

[Shin]

It should have been easy, the two of them should have been able to just walk out of the front door. Yet, nothing was that simple and in the back of D’Angelo’s mind he knew that. Part of him would have been disappointed if it would have been that easy, he would never admit it but D’Angelo always wanted a fight, always wanted a challenged. Yet, Nimue wasn’t the challenge he would of thought of.

The problem was not with Nimue or the Siren, it was with the short sword he had gripped tightly in his left hand. The short sword known simply as ‘tooth’ magnified D’Angelo’s senses to such a degree that the pheromones were far more powerful than they should have been, they brought D’Angelo almost to a frenzied state. However, his eyes were enhanced as well and Nimue captured them like no other.

He was torn than, with the two supernatural creatures vying for his attention it would be enough to break any normal man. D’Angelo let out a primal growl, literally stuck where he was positioned between the Siren and Nymph.

It would have been very likely that D’Angelo would be stuck there if not for the interference of Vylrath. The scraping of the sword rung loudly to D’Angelo and he managed to shift his gaze for a moment, he didn’t see Vylrath, what he saw was a threat, a threat to himself and both women here.

A smile curved at the edges of his lips, Vylrath might have been powerful, too powerful in fact. But D’Angelo had secrets of his own and he would use them in defense of both these women here. He brought both weapons in front of him, shifting to block the Vuri’s path to the Siren. No words were spoken though, but a primal bestial warning was given in the form of an inhuman growl.

With his mind being torn between the beautiful women D’Angelo defensively shrank back into the primal short sword he carried, retreating to a more animalistic and far more dangerous state. It was the only way he could protect his mind, the only way he could stop from becoming a literal pool of emotion that was being brought forth.

[Igraine]

Nimue gasped at the sight of Vylrath, her pretty eyes round with shock at the sight of him. He wasn't pretty at all, not like D'Angelo. His power spoke volumes to her and she was hard pressed not to take a step away and shield herself from them. D'Angelo was what she was worried about, and as he crouched low she let out a small strangled cry.

"No, don't fight." Nimue knew he was protecting her too, just by the way his stance included her as well. She hurried up to him and threw her arms around his neck. The press of her body would be felt all along D'Angelo's back. The back of one of her hands grazed one of the blades that D'Angelo carried, luckily it wasn't the one referred to as Tooth. The soft trickle of blood would smell like dew covered roses, and it was a strong scent that even D'Angelo would be able to smell. Especially if it were magnified by the sword he carried, but Nimue didn't know that -- she didn't even really know she'd been cut enough to bleed. As she gripped around his neck, her breath brushing the downy fine hairs along his ear, she whimpered softly.

"You don't want her. Fight her. You want me. You can feel me, you can taste me, she'll never give you what you want. Fight her hold on you, you look like a strong man, don't disappoint me." The last words spoken, about disappointment, might shake D'Angelo with the strong scent of flowers right under his chin. Unknowingly, Nimue was smearing a little of her blood on his neck and shirt -- she would have to apologize for it later if D'Angelo survived this encounter.

Vylrath wouldn't be attracted to her blood at all, in fact her life-blood smelled so much like flowers he might question his senses for a moment.

"Please, Sir, don't attack this man. He doesn't know what this Sea Hag has done to him, and he can't help it." Struggling as Nimue was holding onto D'Angelo she looked incredibly enticing. Her chin was lifted and brushing against D'Angelo's hair as she looked up at Vylrath. Her long waist length red hair was wild as if she had just been tumbled in the hay in a lover's tryst, and the bodice of her gown was tugging dangerously low at the breastline revealing ample clevage but nothing else.

Vylrath might ponder how damn lucky D'Angelo was getting with this particular woman all of a sudden -- but he would know that she was trying to save the poor man from a fate worse than death.

"I am no sister of that creature in the cell. I am a Nymph." Nimue sounded disgusted at even being thought of as a sister to a Siren but she returned her attentions quickly to D'Angelo who would no doubt be struggling underneath her -- though she weighed very little.