Decisions, Consequences, and Spite

[Paroxysm]

Offtopic: This thread takes place shortly after Arming Trydian and during Antebellum

Just outside the Rivenfelde girl's quarters stood a lithe, delicately built and young looking woman flanked on either side by two very large, scaled guards of a variety that was common in King Pendaran's stronghold. The woman, looking the better part of a chubby cheeked child and standing a mere 5'0" in height, faced opposite Sebilla Rivenfelde's room, guarded the human on the other side of the wooden barrier from visitors and harm, and she did so dutifully, actively scanning for anything or anyone that could be recognized as a threat.

It was with a natural, imperial grace that she held herself and a burning intelligence gleamed in her eye, a flame that spoke centuries of experience and wisdom; she had not volunteered for this job and she did not believe the human, loosely affiliated with the Unseelie as she was, deserved the attention, but she would do as her king ordered and keep her complaints to herself.

And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement; she reacted just before the other two readied their weapons and shouted a command, an order to halt and for the intruder to announce themselves.

Needless to say, the Unseelie king, Pendaran, did not halt and he did not announce himself. Indeed, without so much as a nod of acknowledgement, he walked past the now dumbstruck woman, opened the door, and entered his guest's room before shutting the door behind him.

To her credit, the Fae woman did not gawk for long and recovered quickly from her king's sudden visit, though she now shifted her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other ... She had something of an idea of why she had been called now and why a guard was needed. Whatever it was Pendaran was going to do or attempt to do, he was not expecting it to get done without alarming his other guests or the dark things that stalked his stronghold’s halls.

“Sebilla,” Pendaran’s voice, aided by subtle magic, was like music, a soft chime ringing in the wind, and it would urge Sebilla out of sleep, coax her back to consciousness and to the cold, cruel reality that was her life now.

“Time to make a decision,” he said with an eerie sense of finality.

[Sebilla]

Sebilla murmured softly and stretched, her limbs heavy with sleep. She woke and jolted awake, the tiny glass-like spiders in her hair scurrying down and over the pillow to hide. They knew who Pendaran was, and they would not stand up to him for anyone. In their wake they left their gossamer threads in her hair. In the low light of the room her hair sparkled strangely because of the webbing that looked strangely like a crown, marking her as the princess she should have been.

"King Pendaran?" Sebilla clutched the coverlet to her chest, not protectively, but more like trying to banish a nightmare. She wasn't afraid of Pendaran so much as the place she was in. This was the realm of nightmares come real, but Sebilla didn't really understand that. "What decision?"

The demon in her head was quiet, watchful, murmuring things she couldn't hear -- as if he were asleep. Sebilla pushed her raven black hair over her shoulder, not really feeling the fine webbing that trailed through it. Her eyes were large, haunted, but beautiful in an eerie sort of way. It was as if, dressed as she was in a large shirt with spiders trailing fine ribbons through her hair -- it was as if she belonged in this realm.

In reality, she belonged more in the Seelie Realm -- had actually spent a lot of her childhood in that realm with her mother. She wasn't certain what the King wanted, but with no one around to hear her scream -- she hoped it wasn't to kill her.

[Paroxysm]

“Where you stand,” Pendaran said, “What will become of you and your future,” or lack of one, he thought, “and what to do about your spiritual guest. I will not tolerate being insulted or belittled,” he growled, though it was not directed at Sebilla, “and soon, the Queen of Ulster will be here to gather you up. Weak, human, hated, and host to a phantom. Most likely,” he said, “They will learn of your sight’s re-emergence and seek to use it against me--and, in the process, violate your neutrality.”

When it came to that last bit, there was little Pendaran felt he needed to elaborate on; he did not think Sebilla stupid - naive, perhaps, but not stupid; indeed, it would not take much thought to figure out what fate awaited her if she was used against Unseelie interests.

“But I do not want to kill you,” he smiled and it was genuine, “I will not claim I sympathize with you,” he admitted, “I do not - how can I? I am me,” he gestured to himself and then to Sebilla, “and you are you; I am not human and you are not Fae.”

Pausing his explanation, Pendaran ran his hand down the material of his clothing, a swathe of shadow that covered him from the chest down, and, in thought, he turned away from Sebilla and walked to the nearby window and looked out of it.

“I do not like waste. Killing you? That would be a waste. I could burden you, of course,” he went on, “and put you under a blessed curse, a geis that would prevent your power’s use and enslave the presence inside of you. Easy,” he laughed, “but if I did that, it would have ... repercussions, those things bring about new quests and new,” he chuckled, “heroes; it would set too many new things in motion and bring too much chaos. I want order.”

Another bout of silence followed but it was heavier and thicker than the last one. This was not the kind of silence that invited a reply or opened the floor, as it were, to discussion; indeed, if anything, it discouraged a person from making so much as a peep.

“I’m sure you have noticed your brother‘s recent behavior,” Pendaran noted, “and no doubt, he will blame this realm at his convenience; I have nothing to do with his change, however. Whatever influence is causing him problems is due to his own weakness and not meddling on my part. I would not bother,” he shrugged.

“But I digress,” he admitted, “I needed time to steel myself,” a sinister look briefly crossed his face, lit his eyes with a cold, unfeeling light, “because what I do now, I have never done before and will never do again,” something filled the room, something invisible and powerful, and more than a little scary, “I will take your weakness, Sebilla Rivenfelde. Your permission is not needed, truly,” he said, “I am merely following Trydian Xanathi-Rivenfelde’s contract with my court.”

It may have been a literal interpretation, or, rather, a liberal one, but Pendaran was going to follow the terms of his contract with Trydian Xanathi and the obligations his extended hospitality forced upon him. He was bound, quite thoroughly, to see to it that both were upheld, and this was his way of ensuring that, though it had not been planned in the least, and, honestly, this was new territory, even for the Unseelie king.

For now, turning back to face Sebilla, Pendaran awaited her reaction, her acceptance or rejection, though it did not really matter which, and, weighing his spirit against hers, he pressed down, hard. She was going nowhere.

For preparation’s sake, Pendaran filled the room with yet more power.

"However, a false choice though it may be," he said with cold tension behind his voice, "I would like to hear your decision: Do you give your weakness or do I take it?"

[Sebilla]

Panic mounted in Sebilla's chest until it felt like she would burst. There was a clambering of fear from the creature in her skull too. He wasn't very keen on this display of power that danced around his current host. He didn't like the sound of the King's voice either. He hadn't exactly meant to piss the King off, but he had hoped to shake Trydian from making any stupid deals with the guy.

"I...I..." Sebilla's throat was suddenly dry and she felt as if she were pinned by a force so heavy she could barely breathe. Her eyes were bright with fear, pungent and enticing for any creature that fed on such an emotion -- she was sure there would be plenty in this realm of nightmares. Sebilla tried clearing her throat but she just clutched at the blanket held tight in her small fists. She was a fighter, fighting to keep the sheer terror off of her face and out of her eyes. It was a losing battle. The menace rolling off of Pendaran was almost a physical manifestation. Sebilla half expected something to leap out of the corner at any second -- though she could look nowhere but at King Pendaran. Her eyes were riveted to him and him alone.

What could she do? She doubted if she disagreed he would even fathom taking her opinion in the matter. She had lived with powerful mortals, and a very powerful twin, she knew that with the amount of power floating around in the room she was screwed. What if it killed her, this experimentation that Pendaran himself said he'd never done before and never would again?

"I accept." Sebilla startled herself at the strength of her voice. In a way she was proud of herself, she didn't show how utterly terrified she was locked into this bed with a strange man, a master of nightmares no less, standing over her wielding his dark magicks for what purpose? What was Pendaran going to do to her? What could he do to her short of killing her or disfiguring her or taking her soul?

Sebilla was rather...imaginitive with all of the possibilities that King Pendaran had to torture her. What was most certain in her mind, with the evil look in his eye, whatever he was about to do was going to hurt like hell and she would feel like death afterward -- if she didn't die in the process.

Part of her almost wanted to die, laying here with Pendaran as her killer. It would serve Trydian right to treat her like less than dirt on the bottom of his shoe, and not a day later she was dead. Maybe that's what gave her confidence in accepting Pendaran's offer, whether it was willing or not.

"I accept." She murmured again closing her eyes against the look in King Pendaran's eyes and the pain of the demon rattling around in her skull trying to escape before the King's wrath fell on him.

[Paroxysm]

"That is very good," Pendaran said, surprised, even, by the relief in his voice, "because there is more power in your consent than you know."

There was a brief sensation of just drifting away and then the room grew wide, it stretched and then flipped in on itself, it turned, now, and then distorted with a gigantic wave of what should have been the floor and then the room began to fill with light, bright and piercing, and slightly painful. There was no longer any furniture, including the bed, though, fortunately, there was no gravity to pull Sebilla down, and, likewise, aside from Pendaran, she was utterly alone in this foreign, sterile room.

Although Pendaran appeared to be standing some distance away, he took but one step, swift and graceful as ever, and was suddenly standing directly in front of Sebilla.

“I think this is going to feel a bit odd,” Pendaran admitted with obvious joy.

Whatever had been left after the room transitioned into . . . whatever it was now . . . stopped. Everything stopped. It was abrupt and rough, and jarring; it was all at once and unbelievably uncomfortable.

Pendaran smeared a streak of blood onto Sebilla’s forehead in an arc and as he drew the symbol, Sebilla’s awareness expanded, her consciousness growing and growing, and, eventually being too much for her body and mind to contain, she would simply spread outwards, from whatever physical or spiritual force had always kept her anchored down, and then ‘she’ would be looking out over everything and everyone, which was to say, just Pendan and what had been herself, but in an incredibly magical and enlightened sort of way. Sebilla would also find that, the more she looked, the easier it was for her to move, and that there was nothing stopping her from moving elsewhere. The method to go back to the Unseelie realm or the mortal world presented itself quite readily: She needed only think and she was there. And she was still in the white room. She was, at least for a short time, everywhere, and needed only to alter her perspective to gain a different view.

There was a slow, incomprehensible jumble of sound. Noise that wanted to be words, maybe, and it was accompanied by Pendaran making a slow, careful gesture that appeared to take an eternity to finish.

“Give me a second,” Pendaran gestured with an upheld hand. His face was flushed and he was breathing hard, and he was not entirely positive Sebilla could actually hear him and nor was he sure where she had gone. He just knew that she wasn’t in her body anymore. He had, after all, forced her mind to transcend. That was the difference between mortal and Fae minds, right? Enlightenment? He would have to do a study on that later.

[Sebilla]

It was an extremely uncomfortable experience, almost like diving deep below the surface of a lake but going so quickly that your ears refused to pop to relieve the pressure in your skull. The "pop", for her, occurred when her body could no longer hold her concious awareness. It was a little like a cork expanding and shooting free of a bottle of champagne. She was everywhere and nowhere. In her panic she thought of Trydian.

And then she was there, with him, watching over him from above, below, and directly in front of him. Her conciousness shuddered and all the visions became one, as if feeding off of her uncomfortable feelings. Sebilla reached out to touch Trydian but her hand slipped through him and she panicked, thinking of her mother.

With a sick sort of lurch that made her glad she couldn't throw up, Sebilla was suddenly hovering over the sleeping form of her mother. How long had she been away? What would her mother think? Surely she was dead...surely with no tangeable body...

Sebilla was reaching down to graze her Mother's face when her awareness sharpened on Pendaran's voice and she lurched back to the white room with her body. She was settled on the floor, if there were one, by Pendaran -- looking at the husk of her body. It was so strange to see.

"Hurry, I don't think my body can live without me." Her voice was not panicked, as if she had all the time in the world, but she knew inherently that she had to get back inside her body. She wasn't sure, though, that Pendaran could hear her at all. Distantly, Sebilla was aware that she was standing in front of Pendaran in a long shirt that barely came to her knees. If spirits could blush she surely would have then -- quite indecent of her to not consider wearing something more covering.

[Paroxysm]

"Hhh," Pendaran breathed and, with a flick of his wrist, brought the digit pressed to Sebilla's head down with a sharp, swift motion.

If Pendaran could hear Sebilla, he didn't acknowledge it, and neither, too, did he acknowledge her presence if he could feel it; he was not in a hurry to finish what he was doing. Every motion he made would appear agonizingly slow, careful and meticulous, but power was leaving Pendaran in a torrent and intertwining itself with Sebilla.

If Sebilla was self-conscious about her dress now she would be incredibly distressed at what was about to happen next...

With a convulsion, her body lurched, limbs twitched, her clothing rustled, flesh rippled like liquid, like water disturbed, and then it all exploded outwards.

With a small flourish of his hand, Pendaran removed his thumb and whatever force had been holding Sebilla down (and together) suddenly vanished, and her flesh, like her consciousness, expanded outwards, it increased in volume, and it spread in a thin mist around the ‘room’; it left the meaty muscles of Sebilla’s body, visibly covering bone, in plain view, but that, too, was soon removed, expanding and thinning like the skin before it, and, eventually, becoming a fine mist, as well; it was soon accompanied by Sebilla’s skeleton until nothing remained where she had been.

Pendaran grabbed hold of all the power he had directed into Sebilla, the part of him that was now mixing and melding with what had been Sebilla Rivenfelde,held on with all his might, tugged hard with his will, and, with focus as sharp and precise as a razor’s edge, Pendaran began to reconstruct the girl from the ground up.

From Sebilla’s perspective, it would appear that Pendaran was rebuilding her all at once, that, unlike when he disassembled her, he did not start anywhere in particular, and that he did not first recreate what last he removed; in truth, however, he did create bone first, he then laid the ground work for her nervous system, he added muscles and tendons, and then flesh; he was just moving at an incredibly fast pace.

What had been Sebilla swirled and, directed as it was by Pendaran’s will, it all met at one spot, it became a funnel, widening as its length increased, and at its absolute end, at the very bottom, Sebilla was being remade, recreated; she was ascending from human to something not quite.

How long the process took depended on Sebilla’s perception of time. It could have been seconds, hours, days, weeks, months, or even years; it was not something Pendaran could answer, at any rate.

When the Sidhe king finally finished, Sebilla stood in front of him, stoic and motionless as a statue, but she still looked the same, appearance-wise. Only minor things would have changed: Her skin would be as pale and flawless as Pendaran’s, without blemish or defect, and her lips would be tinged blue, as though she had been caught out in the cold. Her body was more powerful, slender and lithe as an elf, but the muscle visibly shifting as her chest lifted and sink whilst breathing was denser and stronger than a human’s. A faint aura, magical in nature, also surrounded her, hazy and misty, but quickly dissipating as the ritual collapsed in on itself.

Unless Sebilla enjoyed being a ghost, it would be best if she was rejoined to her body soon...

Serving as a conduit, Pendaran opened the way for Sebilla’s consciousness to travel back to her body. It was unfortunate, but Sebilla would lose her omnipresence the moment she became whole again. Hopefully, the experience left her with a broader perspective than she started with. That had been the point, after all.

And it would be now, in these last moments, that Mikal would be at his weakest, that, if Sebilla truly wanted him out of her, she, along with the spiritual-path Pendaran was guiding her on, could draw him out and into the room, into the open of this white, sterile environment.

It would be a renewed battle between them, of that Pendaran was sure, but Sebilla would be at her strongest; she was riding on an omnipresent high, after all. At the very least, it would probably be a unique experience for the demon.

[Igraine]

Ages seemed to pass, Sebilla's awareness everywhere and nowhere. She was intensely aware of everything that existed and even some things that had yet to be formed -- those greater and grander schemes that dissolved into new worlds or new races. Sebilla uttered a soft gasp of protest as her body was dissolved completely into a fine mist. She walked about Pendaran as his movements slowed to a rhythm that was strangely in sync with the power of the entire universe. Sebilla focused on one piece of her matter, a single atom and smiled at it's complex simplicity.

"A curious gift to be given, my lord." As her body was rebuilt, atom by atom, bone, tendon, tissue, blood, and nerve -- Sebilla watched it all. She watched every last piece fall into place until she was looking back at herself. Or at least she thought it was herself, Sebilla rose on what should have been her toes to look at herself better. She looked a bit blue about the mouth, an unfortunate consequence of the King meddling with her body she assumed.

Then he called for her. It felt cold and warm all at once and she was drawn to him like a moth to flame. She took a step toward him, then another, and then she was within him -- using his mind and the gateway he opened to her own body. She flew like a hawk toward her body, her spirit enthusiastic about rejoining it's host. There was a panic in her skull, though it was not her that was having the panic.

Mikal.

The Demon.

Leave. The word resonated in her skull as Sebilla took her rightful place in her body. Her spirit was elated as it fled to the furthest parts of her invigorated body. The strength behind that simple command was intense, and it was filled with a power that was foreign and yet, now oddly innate, to Sebilla.

To Pendaran, Sebilla's body would give an almighty twitch as she regained control -- and then she would suffer a leak. A black miasma oozed from her mouth, her eyes, her nose, and her lips. It marred her newly pale skin, looking like living night crawling across her flesh. At once it vaporized, turning into a dark mist that Sebilla instinctively wrapped a hand around.

"No. I think not." She held on to Mikal, and she could feel his panic though he could not express it. Her eyes, sky blue rimmed in silver, found Pendaran. She looked around the room quietly, and glanced down at herself. Pendaran had not rebuilt her clothing, it being inconsequential to the greater scheme of rebuilding her.

"How...interesting." She was trying her new mouth, it still felt the same, though her words were spoken with a softer lilt to them. Sebilla knew she should be mortified that she was standing here, naked, before King Pendaran holding a demon mist in her hand. However, he knew her most intimately now, in a way no lover could ever boast. Perhaps the only other person that knew her as intimately was her own mother who had grown her in the womb. Of a certainty, should Trydian walk in he might consider killing them both -- that thought brought a rueful smile to her pale lips. Lips as pale as death.

"Can I have my room back? I would like to store this presumptious demon in the crystal you gave me. Fitting, don't you think, considering he used it to possess me?"

In a way, King Pendaran was like her father -- having a part in rebuilding her to his own likeness. In a way, he was also like her mentor -- she could feel his power flowing keenly through her body. At least she thought it was his power, some of it anyway. It felt like it had when she was outside of her body. She turned away from him, surveying the room and blocking his view of her body with her dark raven black hair. Not that it would do much, he knew every piece of her now.

"I'm surprised I don't feel cold." It was a simple statement, but a valid one. She was only waiting for Pendaran to bring the room back so she could get on with her business. He was mildly inconsequential now she felt, though she was and would always be drawn to him through their shared powers.

[Paroxysm]

Once Sebilla’s consciousness was back where it belonged, Pendaran collapsed the bond between them, sealing it closed with a word of power, and then temporarily willed away his accumulated exhaustion and weakness; he had not expended all of his excess power, but it had been enough that he would need some time before he could fully recover his strength.

“I don’t see why not,” Pendaran replied and then slammed the parts and pieces of the room back into place. The walls, the floor, the furniture, and all the other recognizable features returned as though they had never left.

Understandably, Pendaran did not take offense at Sebilla’s dispassionate demeanor in the least. This was a trait that he, too, exhibited, and, in fact, many of the Greater Fae in his service acted similarly. Though, if this was because of her enlightenment or her new physiology, Pendaran did not know, and nor did he care, really. He had learned some new things, created a new pawn, of a sort, too, and while it did require him to further divide his power - an act he could not simply undo without erasing Sebilla - he considered it something of a long-term investment: Sebilla Rivenfelde was now a living testament to the Unseelie king’s power and reach.

“I am an aspect of winter,” Pendaran stated matter-of-factly, “and so, too, are you, in a sense. We don’t get cold.”

“I’ll leave you to enjoy yourself,” Pendaran shrugged and turned away from Sebilla; he headed to the door and stopped, pausing with his hand clasped onto the brass knob, “Fair warning,” he said, “I have taken your weakness and given you power,” he smiled, “But I am still your better. You would do well to keep that in mind when we are in public.”

The king spoke without inflection, in an even and cold tone, and with a tired, dreary look in his eyes; however, for as exhausted as he looked, it was still abundantly clear that he was the king and he would eradicate anyone who would seek to compromise his position. What had been freely given could be taken away, with force.

“Perhaps you should present yourself to your brother,” he laughed, cruelly, and then left; he took the guards outside Sebilla’s room with him. She had no need of them anymore.

[Sebilla]

Sebilla smirked as she looked down, avoiding Pendaran's gaze. It was a surprisingly warm gesture, a glimmer of her former self. He was barking up the wrong tree if he thought she would challenge him for his dominion. Sebilla had absolutely no desire to have any measure of his power. She felt his power blossom inside her, reminding her of how she had been reborn. It would become her own, eventually -- the alien nature of it would sew itself into the marrow of her rebuilt bones...eventually.

"Thank you for the offer. I will seek him soon." She was nothing if not unfailingly kind. She hadn't railed against King Pendaran very much, she had done nothing but be a nuisance. For that she was eternally sorry, though she couldn't find it within her to be apologetic for forcing his hand in rebuilding her stronger.

When King Pendaran left Sebilla walked to her bedside table and lifted the crystal he had given her. Her mind focused on the orb and her awareness expanded -- not nearly as prolific as it had been when she was outside the prison her body created. Yet it expanded, as a crystal of such make could only do for a Seer, and Sebilla felt the struggling form in her right hand. She inhaled deeply, stark naked still in the room that had been given to her, and exhaled expertly -- as if her body instictively knew what was required of it now that she was in charge. Truthfully, though, she had never imprisoned a demon before. Yet, strangely, she knew.

Sebilla pressed her hands together, pressed hard against the crystal with the black miasma in her hand growling in protest. She blew softly on the crystal, it frosted along the surface as if her breath were as cold as ice. The demon fog stilled and began seeping into the heart of the crystal. Once the demon was fully encased she smiled, a pretty smile with her pale blue lips.

"There you are. I'm sure we can find a use for you later." Sebilla set the crystal down and turned to the wardrobe. Her steps were of a purpose and she opened the doors of the wardrobe carefully. "Now, something to wear that will make my brother mad with envy that the good King has been visiting his dear sister in his absence." Sebilla cracked a grin, very aware of how lewd the thought was and completely uncaring. She believed that it might take some time to allow Pendaran's influence on her body to wear off -- and when it did she would be far more in control of her thoughts.

The tiny frail looking glassy spiders spilled out of the wardrobe and crawled along her body, taking her measurements, exploring her new body for all it's subtle differences. Sebilla reached out, her skin tickling with the infinitely small and delicate spider legs. She reached for a red silk dress with a fine gold edge. It was a gown that would cling tight to her body down to her hips and flare from there in gentle folds. The dress would leave her shoulders bare, the sleeves like bells that opened at her elbows to reveal a darker blood red lining. As usual, the spiders took it upon themselves to dress her. Somewhere deep in her awareness she knew that her family would be arriving soon and she should look her best not only for their sake but for her brother as well. The spiders made a few adjustments, pulling the gown in tighter here and there, sewing the seams efficiently and making sure the hem was the proper height.

Sebilla sat before the looking glass in her room, small pots of makeup were available to her, but she simply watched the spiders run through her long black hair. Some how, expertly, they dressed her hair. They had it in a careless pile on her head, silvery threads of their silk wrapping her hair tenderly. It looked effortless, she looked graceful and altogether uncanny with spiders dangling beautifully all along her neck and shoulders.

Her mother had given her some instruction on makeup. Less was more it was said and so she lined her eyes with a dusting of black. It made her eyes pop incredibly against her fresh pale skin. She brushed her blue lips with her fingertips, deciding to leave them unadorned. Trydian had to find out her new gift one way or another. She rose from the mirror, feeling the spiders trail their way down her body to the floor. They scuttled into the wardrobe, all of them save one that wove itself in her hair, professing a deeper love of this new creature she had become than any desire to return to dressing creatures of this realm.

In a way this tiny spider was almost like a protective charm. It was poisonous in the extreme, but it loved her as only an insect might love a mistress.

"Shall we then? I doubt you'll like my brother very much. You're not allowed to bite him, though." Sebilla raised her hand in warning, finger extended to wiggle at the spider. It blinked all of it's eight eyes and burrowed deeper into her raven black hair, promising in it's own right to behave unless otherwise needed.

"Good. To Trydian, then." Sebilla opened the door to her room and stepped out into the hall. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly thinking only of Trydian. The path changed for her, the pathway to her brother changing before her so that she would be lead straight to him. Uncanny, indeed, this realm was entirely new to her -- but Sebilla didn't question her new power as she headed to her brother. He had to find out first before anyone else.

Trydian must know about her change.

[Trydian]

Trydian wandered the halls, his thoughts were just as complex, as the winding and twisting passageways. He had never been settled on one path, but now fate had been twisted into some darker end. His sister had been forced into his fate, but maybe there was still some hope. From the King's moods, he saw that he was still just a man with a limit. The King had to have a weakness- everyone did. That was one lesson that he had been taught early on. While the King had power in his realm, he wondered how powerful he would be outside of his comfort zone.

Some ghostly silhouette stopped him in his tracks. The silhouette belonged to his sister, yet it was not his sister. Her entire being was changed and even her scent had been altered. His nostrils flared and his demeanor turned into a defensive stance. While she was alluring in her gown, with the dips in her curves and smooth skin, something was alarming about her- it sent his mind searching for an explanation.

Instead of complimenting her appearance, he cursed it. This was not his sister. His real sister was dead somewhere and buried in some catacomb. This Sebilla was new, fresh, yet dead at the same time. It was as if she had been reborn, her very essence a new sensation for him. Her scent made him want to ravage her body, but at the same time it made him stop still to study her form.

His demonic mind warned him that something wasn't quite right. He should be very wary, maybe he should pretend she didn't exist, but that would be very difficult with the way she presented herself. They hadn't spoken since their argument and his attempt to alienate himself from her. It was very awkward, but still comforting to see her at least looking unharmed and alert.

“I can smell him on you...” Trydian's eyes flashed their deadly hue, his muscles tensed and flexed. He was always protective, but usually only as a brother. With the way he reacted, you might say he responded as a lover against competition.

“Are you his new pet? I see he doesn't hesitate to dress you up.” Trydian stepped in front of her, trying to make his figure dominating in comparison to her small frame. “You will go in there and change...now. I don't care what you wear, but you won't be exposing yourself to him.” He said, rolling his shoulder's into a shrug. Every muscle felt tense. The anger he felt compromised his emotions. It would be very difficult remaining so composed.

Even though their affections had never been spoken, his desires spoke volumes with the way his body reacted around Sebilla. This was a rare time, where he wouldn't hesitate to exercise his strength against her. She had always been a little rebellious around him, but now he was seeing her as a woman- that was an emotion he didn't think would ever surface.

[Sebilla]

Her laugh was soft, lilting, intoxicating. Even she relished in the sound of it's musical notes.

Sebilla shrugged her bare shoulders, keeping a reasonable distance from her brother until he stalked to within a few paces of her. Always, always trying to shadow her with his brute force. Sebilla turned her face up to him, he towered over her and he breathed power on her face like a forge. She could smell it on him, rolling off of him in thick powerful waves. She gave a little shiver as the sensation rippled up her spine.

"I will do no such thing. You see..." Sebilla sidestepped Trydian and walked around him, her skirts making a soft swishing noise, catching the available light in the hallway and reflecting red back into Trydian's eyes. She smiled as she came full circle and stood before him, closer to him -- close enough to smell his intoxicating scent. "You see, he's seen quite a bit of me. My body means nothing more to him than a science project. He's seen everything, rebuilt everything, his awareness has scoured every last curve of my body. He wants nothing that he hasn't already had."

Okay, that was harsh and she knew it. She wanted to needle him, to hurt him, to insinuate that King Pendaran had spared nothing in his endeavors to give her asylum. At the look on his face she relented, looking very cross for a moment.

"Oh Trydian, really? You're a damn nuisance. King Pendaran only fulfilled the idiotic contract that you made him. I am reborn, rebuilt, stronger and more powerful than ever. He rebuilt me in his image from the very smallest atom of my existence. You know nothing of what it's like to be shredded until there is nothing but a memory left in the haze of your bodies explosion." Sebilla looked down, casting her gaze to the side. Her soft pale blue lips were full and supple, everything about her was very real. She was even warm, so close to Trydian as she was, but she was descended now from the realm of the Winter King. She was wholly different in ways her brother would never understand.

"The demon, Mikal, is gone. I have him trapped in my crystal ball." Her eyes, edged in the smudging of black as they were, looked up through thick black lashes at Trydian. He might sense her desire for him and wonder at what had occurred to set the usually meek and mild Sebilla on the edge of passion.

"Are you ever going to kiss me?" If he did he might remark how her lips were cool to the touch and her breath chilled but not unpleasant. She was, in a sense, the epitome of the harsh beauty of winter. She wanted Trydian to try to be rough with her so that she could show him that she could fend for herself now, but she also wanted him to fold his arms around her and tell her that he loved her and that this was the worst of what would happen between them. She knew it was a lie, but she desperately wanted him to love her more than life itself.

She wanted Trydian to love her like she loved him -- regardless of rules, reservations, or what anyone else thought or believed.

[Trydian]

So, his sister was dead. This new Sebilla spoke with a sharp tone and her body constantly tried to lure him. She was not the Sebilla he had always known. Her new form, was not the one he had grown to love. Trydian looked up at her suddenly, when she asked if he would ever kiss her. He supposed he would have, if things had been different. There were too many things against them, to make their relationship whole and normal again.

King Pendaran had done his job of breaking Trydian. If not by force, then by the influence with his sister. His mind tried to wrap around his sister's change. Trydian didn't like her new lustful features, even though his body responded differently. If he thought like his father, he could abuse the situation.

Sebilla wanted him to love her unconditionally, which he already did, but he never showed it in public. He always treated her with a stoic and indifferent attitude. Now that she was different, he wondered if any of that mattered now. His sister was gone and this new woman stood in front of him.

He could learn to show his affection toward her. Maybe this stronger version was better for him. Trydian began to see the situation differently. He could use it to his advantage, if he could win his sister over.

Placing a hand on her waist, he felt the gentle dip of her curves. It was a subtle reaction, but his mind only concentrated on her. His fingers continued to caress her. This was the first time that he was touching her so intimately. He brought a hand to place her stray hair behind her ear. Her eyes were even different. There was a soul, but something had awakened anew spirit in her.

Trydian kissed her, but it wasn't the sensation he had imagined all those years. The Sebilla that had enticed him, had been a simple human girl. Her human nature had shackled his senses. This Sebilla hardly brought out the passion in him.

He pulled away from her, as if completely dulled by the experience. “I gave up my soul, for your human soul...but you still don't see that.” Trydian watched her. He watched her carefully, as if she might suddenly evaporate. “This power was meant to protect you, not change your spirit and senses.” As far as Trydian was concerned, he had nothing left to lose. The Sebilla he had tried to protect, was no longer with him. It hurt him, that she considered the contract so foolish.

“You want me to love you, but I don't even know what you are.” Trydian said sharply. The words were cruel and even uncalled for, but he couldn't deny his own feelings toward her change. He was broken. Since she was gifted with these powers, there was little reason for him to protect her. Sebilla no longer needed him, she only desired a fantasy. He was finally broken, but at least he wouldn't hold onto any sentiments during the battle.

[Sebilla]

The kiss was soft, probing, gentle. Everything that Trydian was not, by nature. When he spoke she closed her eyes momentarily. She was still herself, she was still inside this new body, the only thing that was different was her awareness and the powers that had been bestowed on her.

Sebilla reached up with her slender hands. She held Trydian's face tenderly, looking deep into his eyes for the span of a moment, a moment that felt like a lifetime.

"I'm still me. I'm no longer frail, no longer given to bouts of sickness, better able to handle my seeing abilities. I still need you." Sebilla moved one hand from his cheek and pressed it against her chest and tapped it gently. "My heart needs you, Trydian. Think me dead if you will it, but I am not. I am more whole than I've ever felt. More alive than I have ever thought possible. Stronger than I ever knew I could be. I have loved you with my whole heart, and now I love you with my whole existence."

Sebilla pressed her hands against his face, tracing the line of his lips with her fingertips. She closed her eyes remembering the way he felt in this moment, the taste of his kiss on her own lips. She thought a moment about souls, her whole body still as it ever was around him. She still felt safest around Trydian, able to be herself even if he chided her for it.

"One soul does not replace another. Would that it did because I would have gladly given you my soul in return for yours. I may not be human, in fact I'm not entirely sure what I am, but I know that I am not dead. I breathe, I live, I am not some undead creature come to haunt you Brother. Gods be damned, Trydian, I feel." She couldn't help that Trydian was more attracted to her new slightly more muscular body than her human body.

"Were you only attracted by my vulnerability? This body can sustain your love where my human body could not. I would have died loving you, Trydian. I still would die loving you." A single tear slipped from beneath her closed eyelids. The spider, quiet until now, scurried quickly to take the tear and bear it back into her hair where it handled it with care. Sebilla had always loved spiders, and this one was of particular beauty. She thought she might give it a name at some point, if it stayed with her.

Sebilla let go of Trydian, letting her hands clasp in front of her, half buried in the folds of her red silk gown. One hand darted to her face in a very human gesture to wipe away the trail the tear had left in the eyeliner.

"Why do you always make me feel as if my heart is being ripped to shreds? Can you not be happy for the knowledge that I love you, have always loved you, and probably will love you until the day that I die? Can you not be happy that you need not fear my death at every turn? I still need you Trydian. I still need your protection and your love and everything that you offer me, but now I can withstand it."

Sebilla didn't look at him, her gaze downcast. The spider peered out of a loose coil of her hair, watching Trydian carefully as it drank the crystal tear that had fallen from it's mistress' eye. It tasted sweet with a hint of sorrow, so very much like the girl it had met, and so very like the girl it now loved heedlessly -- tiny though it was.

[Trydian]

Trydian was hardly the type to dwell on emotion, or words, but he did dwell on her speech. Her words struck him and it made him think of their current state of affairs. He could make this work out to their benefit, but in the back of his mind, he still only saw an ill-fated love. It wouldn't matter if they confessed everything. They were still imprisoned and now she was tied to King Pendaran more than ever.

“You still don't understand. I didn't want you to be changed...at all. Your purity was my reason for being.” Trydian thought about his words. Maybe he had only loved her for being human. It seemed to be a fault in their family. His father had been attracted to a human after all. It was why any of them existed.

“What are you now? You may as well be a demon, with all of your taint.” Trydian spoke of how King Pendaran had made her whole again. The taint wouldn't necessarily be a substance, but a physical action that he considered damnable.

Trydian was touched that she would confess and risk everything. Could he really love her so freely without consequence? He was practically chained to King Pendaran with the contract. It wouldn't be an easy task, but he doubted she saw that problem.

“I have never been attracted to power....that is why I was attracted to your humanity. I have enough power in my body for the both of us. Do you know how much it killed me, when I had to agree to him gifting you with such abilities?” Trydian said. When King Pendaran had offered her the gift, he considered it more of a curse. He wanted Sebilla to remain completely human- untouched and untainted by such desires.

Granted, she wouldn't be in pain anymore. There was a hidden blessing with the abilities. Sebilla was always in pain from her random visions. He could see the confidence flowing from her and her ego could easily match his now. There was some pride, but it was mixed with a dark resentment.

“I could have handled you as a human and I would have had a family with you. Father had been with a human woman...so it would have been possible.” Tydian shrugged, almost frustrated at his own confession. Why was he even mentioning a family with Sebilla? He doubted they would even see that future, with the way their path was headed.

King Pendaran had personally seen to that ruin.

“I wish that we could be together, but it seems that someone has plans for us...” Trydian said, trying to make her see their harsh reality. “He isn't hesitating to use us as pawns and I know that I will be fighting our own family members. You have to realize that. What happens when you have to choose?” Trydian hoped that her love for him hadn't blinded her. If she was loyal, she would at least join their mother's family. He was tied under contract to obey King Pendaran, but she was free to choose. Trydian envied her, but it wasn't something either one of them could have predicted. He wouldn't wish her in his position, no matter how much resentment he previously held for her.

“I have always loved you and I will always protect you. We should just enjoy it while we can...” Trydian said solemnly. It was as if the current argument had simply been brushed aside. He was losing strength and patience for everything. Having Sebilla near him, at least eased his nerves. Her voice was like a calming wave. If he could change everything, he would have in a heartbeat. He wondered how much time they had together, until he was called to aid King Pendaran.