Building Anew

[Shin]

“The Sirens call…” D’Angelo echoed Igraines words as he cast his gaze to his boots, a gloved hand rubbing the bottom of his chin. He could barely remember through the foggy haze that obscured his memory, it was so difficult! He remembered a voice and scent his keen nose picked up, but beyond that he couldn’t place what happened.

D’Angelo ignored Vylrath, he didn’t like him. The man was volatile one moment and trying to be chummy the next, he was very likely psychotic. Though he was Igraines father D’Angelo didn’t hold any reservations about killing the man if it came down to it, nor did he doubt that he could with the utmost of ease.

Forgetting about Vylrath completely D’Angelo brought his attention back to what had happened to him, it couldn’t have been magic that was all but impossible to his knowledge, which meant that it had to be something natural, something that had affected him because of his sword-enhanced abilities. He clicked his tongue against his bottom teeth as he often did when he was in thought.

D’Angelo remained oblivious to the world around him until the Merrow King entered the room. The place was starting to get crowded. He listened while the King spoke, but truthfully he was still concerned with his own failure to pay his words real thought. Igraine would make the decision and he would follow it, it was a pretty simple affair for D’Angelo. He did however flash Nimue a smile, oblivious to her current plight and that the locket he currently carried on him was hers.

--

“Yes, that is much better. Thank you.” William said while smiling at the Queen as she went through the process of tending to his injured hand, he didn’t really think he needed a sling, but he wasn’t about to argue over something so trivial.

“Truthfully I did not do much. The situation was under control by the time I showed myself.” It was true; the outcome would have likely been the same without him to point an arrow in the Sirens face. Some grand entrance he had made, William smiled and bowed.

“I am William Hawk, Ranger of the Fey.”

As William rose from his bow he turned to see Nimue and some other male enter the room, and by the look and his friends face he could tell what was wrong instantly, her necklace was gone, and by the way she ignored him completely and stared at D’Angelo, the man that had broken his fingers, it was an easy guess as to who had it. Yet William knew he couldn’t just draw his sword and attack the rather plain individual.

When the Merrow King entered William gave him his full attention, partly because the message he was delivering was serious and secondly because the man was foreign to William, literally a fish on dry land. His magic was also something that interested William, he felt it earlier with the Siren but that hadn’t been the appropriate time for him to express his curiosity, not much more appropriate than now, yet, William couldn’t help but be a little curious.

[Igraine]

Igraine sighed inwardly, though she remained stoic and quiet through the exchange. When the Fey Ranger expressed his name, Igraine smiled up at him and nodded. He was a handsome man.

"Are you the Ranger that is part Nymph? That is so rare that even I have heard of you. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Your skill preceeds you, William Hawk." Igraine gently shook his good hand before letting it go and turning to Vylrath.

"Father, we should not allow Thorin to linger on his own for too long. Trydian hinted at the fact that King Pendaran has no problem finding a way to keep him busy, whether or not that indicates killing him -- I'm not so sure. I may have no love lost with the father of my child, but I can't let him go unknowingly into danger." Igraine pressed her fingertips to her forehead, feeling the drain brought on by D'Angelo's sword. She moved to sit on a bench at the end of her bed, she sat ramrod straight, tucking her feet beneath the bench and looking at everyone within the room -- including the Merrow King and Nimue.

"Father, reach out with your power to see if you can find Thorin. If you can't...we must assume the worst."

Igraine leveled her gaze on King Slyail and rested her hands in her lap. They looked pale against the dark fabric of her pants. Her gaze was somewhat unsettling with the depth of knowledge circulating in the emerald depths. She shook her head and sighed.

"To openly enter his realm in hostility would be...unfortunate. My young niece is held there against her will. My half brother is there as well, forced into service to the Unseelie King in order to protect his human sister. Do you think it wise to enter the Kingdom so blatantly hostile? Would you have me turn my back on family? He will kill them both if we declare any war. The only reason I'm stepping foot in his realm is to make certain that my niece is okay and to bring her home. King Pendaran has watched me my whole life, apparantly. He knows that family means a lot to me and he's using Sebilla's weakness against me. I will not go to a parley with hostile thoughts. That will only exacerbate the situation and make everything worse, and kill my niece."

Igraine sighed and looked at her father. Leaving him here to watch over her Kingdom in her absence wouldn't be plausible. He would just follow her anyway. Her eyes fell on D'Angelo and she smiled.

"D'Angelo. I need you to do me a favor. I'm going to elevate your position in my Kingdom to that of one of my Generals. There are only four, but your position will be over theirs. In my absence you will see to guarding my Kingdom. Do you think you can do that for me?" She had purposely stepped around King Slyail. He had his own Kingdom to worry about and didn't need the added weight of hers. D'Angelo was perfect. All of her generals were human -- and this man had the brilliance to carry out what needed to be done.

Igraine shook her head as she looked at Nimue, her eyes locked on D'Angelo. She would probably do anything for the man that held her locket and the poor guy knew nothing about the locket he held. Igraine walked to D'Angelo and indicated that he should lean close.

"There is a locket in your possession that, unless you return it, will have a very beautiful woman following you." Igraine whispered into his ear. "That is, only if you want to return it. If you don't then giving it to her will do nothing, she will still be in your possession."

No one but D'Angelo would hear this exchange and she smiled as she pulled away from him, as if she had given him some trade secret to being the High General.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath grimaced at Slyail's words. He had obviously been in very little battles, or near death experiences. You did not simply waltz into the enemies stronghold and expect to take down the man. Standing away from the wall, his daughter would see the irritation sketched across his body. The annoyance was written on his facial expression and the way he held himself. Most of the men gathered practically glared daggers. If they had not been friends of Igraine, he would have more than likely ended the conversation with a fight.

“Do you want to get her killed? Bargaining is the most logical response. We don't know what he is capable of....” Vylrath moved toward the door, his temper rising. He was grateful that his daughter finished the rest of his thoughts for him. He was not meant for the court, that much he knew. How could he talk to these men and relate?

“As for the Siren...I'm sure my daughter Caela could use that nourishment. She hasn't fed yet. She will have strength after she's eaten the flesh...” Vylrath glared at Slyail, daring him to interrupt. “Or are you going to tell my kin how to live to? You already seem to have an idea on how my daughter should make decisions.” Vylrath snarled, mostly at himself for letting the man get to him. He was out of line with those words. Igraine would more than likely find humor in it, but he doubted Slyail would. He began to regret not leaving with Kahlan.

Vylrath could tolerate D'Angelo, but something about Slyail always threw him into a maelstrom of anger. The fact the man constantly defied him, even when Vylrath was trying to be reasonable, instantly put him in a foul mindset. At least D'Angelo had been somewhat respectful in his silence. Words didn't need to be shared, to know that they needed to keep a distance from each other.

When Igraine requested for him to seek out Thorin, part of him wanted to retaliate. He could care less about the bastard, but he saw the instant worry and concern in his daughter's eyes. Sighing, he let his body become overwhelmed with a definite brilliant hue. The energy would be felt by all Vuri. In an odd sense, his blood magic connected them inevitably. Thorin would feel his presence, but he made sure that it wasn't hostile. His presence would be a simple reminder of his existence. If Thorin responded, the energy would immediately be transferred back to Vylrath.

He was used to being told who and when to attack- not contribute to the actual decision making, or have an opinion on the matter. If it were up to him, he would have been storming the place by now, but he also knew that could be suicide for everyone involved. Vylrath wondered if Slyail only worried about the glory at the end and not how it effected everyone involved.

Vylrath felt the Vuri essence from his son, while images flashed in his mind. They were not all pleasant and King Pendaran's voice was often heard in the vague images. The last images shared, were of Thorin confronting Trydian on some personal matter. It appeared as though Trydian had already betrayed them, even scorning his own uncle for the price of power.

“Thorin is also with the King, but not by choice...Trydian is no longer an ally and is to be considered an enemy.” Vylrath breathed, his anger escalating. Looking at his daughter, he felt sympathy for her. She had once cared for Thorin and she adored her other half brother- now both were almost untouchable.

Hearing the promotion with D'Angelo, he had no opinion on it either way. He was glad not to be in the mix and able to freely move on his own accord. Vylrath was sure that he wouldn't take orders from D'Angelo so readily.

[Herald_of_Fate]

Slyail stared at Vylrath, his scorn of the man plain upon his normally composed features. He'd made no suggestions, offered little more than hollow words in the face of open war. Was he not versed on history? It was clearly the Unseelie King's intention to have Igraine under his control. Still, Slyail could not ignore the Queen's bond to family. The Unseelie King had the upper hand to be sure. He sighed. He'd placed his faith and the whole of his people behind Igraine and she was ensnared by the Unseelies' cruel scheming.

"Then what would you have me do, your Highness? If what you say is true, then shouldn't we treat them as possible enemies as well?" The Water Mage said questioningly. "We do not know all of what he is capable of, but we do know he is capable of holding an adult Vuri in his clutches and sending an agent of great power to attack us openly. We cannot simply ignore such a threat."

The Merrow King considered deeply the implications, both of this 'parley' and what he felt was sure to be a coming conflict. In their current state, they could not hope to stand against him, especially with hostages close to the Queen in his control. With his people at stake, could he stand with allies already wrapped up in the Unseelie King?

"I see. Then I think it best that I take my leave. Do with your prisoner as you will. If my people and I must stand against King Pendaran's tide, then so be it. I honestly hope you are able to rescue those you hold dear. But remember, there is far more than just their lives at stake. This entire realm and another besides hang in the balance. Is all that to be sacrificed to save these few?"

Slyail turned and left the chamber, resolute on his path. If they could not stand against him, then he would. While he'd wished for their support, he didn't doubt that he'd have it in time. The Unseelie were treacherous, better met with the sword than words. And he planned to do just that. He climbed the steps to the seawall, Alleste in otter form upon his shoulders, and leapt from it into the sea, streaking open water. He'd head for the Deep Kingdom first, then to wherever Unseelie agents were said to dwell. He could not help but notice, however, a strange ship just west off the horizon. Its sail intrigued him, having never seen the circle bisected by a horizontal line insignia on the main sail. Usually he would investigate, but given the importance of his mission, he left it be.

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

On the foredeck of the ship, a woman with fire-red hair peered through a spyglass toward the fortress, watching Slyail as he swam away. The deck bustled with hooded robed figures, tying line and otherwise running the ship, save the woman herself, clad in stark white with the same insignia as the ship emblazoned on her chest. One of the ebony robed figures approached her from behind, bowing respectfully.

"Sister Superior, what is it? Are we changing course?" The hooded one whispered reverently.

A barely audible growl escaped her as she responded. "A Water Fey, by the look of him. No, remain on course. We could not hope to catch such a one in open water. We will dock in Ulster and let our missionaries investigate the rumors we heard as well as restocking supplies. No hostility, remember? Not until we've hard evidence for the Magister Prima."

She was one of the Magister's most trusted servants, one of his Alpha Magdalena, a militant corps. of female warrior nuns that served as the elite of the leader's forces. She was Natali De' Leone, the Lion of the Red Blades. Once she'd lived upon the high seas as a privateer, or pirate, dependant on opinion, before she'd been recruited by the Magister himself and sworn her soul to his cause. She would investigate, nothing more. Her orders were very clear and the Magister did not tolerate deviance.

[Shin]

William stood with shock openly displayed on his fey features, things were transpiring too fast to keep an accurate track of. He looked from one person to the next as they spoke, wrapping his mind around what was going on. He had come out of the Fey just to enjoy himself and see Queen Igraine, which he had done, and now he found himself being pulled into something far greater than what he anticipated.

“There will be people that need to know what is going on at home. Perhaps they could send some help… the downfall of the Unseelie is something that I personally wouldn’t mind seeing.” He spoke only after having watched the Merrow King make his departure, sad that he hadn’t been able to speak with the strange creature.

“I will carry your message.” He reconfirmed with a bow. “My arm and hand will be tended to better in the Fey as well.” He nodded to the Queen once before turning and leaving, giving Nimue a sly smile despite her current predicament, she would find a way out of it he was sure.

--

D’Angelo did well in hiding his surprise at the Queens words, he was to be placed in command? He had only just gotten there, became a member of the royal guard and now here he was being asked to take charge of things he didn’t understand yet.

The man was shaking his head after a few moments of thinking. “I cannot do it. I will not do it. It is too great of a responsibility for one that knows virtually nothing of your people, your ways, and your enemies. I am best served as a lone warrior, a guardian perhaps, but not a general.”

There was so much that those here did not know of D’Angelo, the man wasn’t nearly as honorable as he appeared. He was an assassin, a mercenary here for one goal and that goal was the death of the Unseelie King and the fact that they had just lost a powerful ally irked him more than he would admit to those gathered. While it was true that the Queen and D’Angelo had a mutual agreement, a contract that his organization would supply her with information it was purely business for him. Truthfully… he cared only for her people as long as he could exploit them and gain information from them to give to the Queen.

D’Angelo felt in his pocket, his fingers grazing over the intricate necklace and his mind swirling over the information that had just been given to him. He refrained from looking at the Water Nymph and instead weighed his decision carefully, to have such a person under his control was no small thing, she could be exploited he was sure, but to what end he had to wonder? Would the Brotherhood condone such an act?

He knew he couldn’t give the necklace back though, if only because deep down inside he didn’t want to. With power over Nimue, power he could use. A certain side of him ached to see such beauty be held captive, yet, the practical side of him demanded he have more time to think about this, more time to meditate.

[Igraine]

Igraine figured that D'Angelo wouldn't accept her offer, but it was worth a try. Igraine let the Merrow King assume many things about her, and as he left she kept her head high. For him to assume that she was not going to do anything? That was borderline insolence. He wanted a fight, sure there would be a fight, but not on the Unseelie King's turf. That was where his power came from, he was at his most powerful in his own kingdom.

"With all due respect to Slyail, King of the Merrows -- we cannot attack King Pendaran directly in his own realm. It would be the few of us we could get through his gates against his entire Kingdom. I'm not going to lie to any of you gathered here, I don't have the power to manipulate the Unseelie boundaries, just like the Unseelie don't have the power to manipulate Seelie boundaries. Why would I obviously upset King Pendaran by bringing a few people into his realm to kill him? Do any single one of you believe that any of us would make it back out alive?"

Igraine pressed her fingertips to her temples for a moment before brushing past everyone to enter the sitting room. She took up a position near the huge picture window that overlooked the front of the Castle compound and beyond into the city and the further costal town of Invernis. Igraine wasn't exactly thrilled about being doubted by a King that she hadn't asked anything of. He just assumed that she would drop everything that was planned to kill the Unseelie. That was a plan, but Pendaran himself had to be drawn out. The head had to be cut off the snake, but it had to be done properly otherwise it would just grow two in it's place.

"The Unseelie King has been King for hundreds of years for a reason. He's lethal, he's brutal, and he's relentless. That doesn't necessarily mean he's just that way to humans or Seelie. He does incredibly evil things to his people in order to keep them in line. One wrong move and Pendaran could be overthrown within his own kingdom. He doesn't let it get that far. If we even attempt to take him out in his own Kingdom we'll be killed. If he were killed in his own Kingdom without a show of our might, then another will just rise in his place -- and so on and so forth and we'll be fighting these god damned creatures our entire lives until the end of time." Slyail's personal mission would probably just piss Pendaran off. The man was as good as dead if he didn't manage to pull his head out of the clouds about what was going on.

"The Parley will be a good time to ascertain how many gathered forces, what sort of powers, and what kind of time we have to completely gather our own forces. Many of which are already on the move." Igraine glanced back at those gathered as if to challenge them to challenge her. She was not a formidable woman in size, but there was something about her that brokered no questioning of her tactics. She was bone weary of people questioning her every move, and King Slyail's defection had broken her last strand of patience.

"William, I would be pleased if you would take this news to Queen Mab. She will want to know what is going on. I will take news of the outcome of the Parley to her myself personally after it has been completed." Igraine leveled her gaze on D'Angelo and she nodded. "D'Angelo keep an eye on information routes coming to and from Ulster along the borders of this city. Pay special attention to any information travelling through the woods, we should know anyone passing information from the Seelie court to me, but I want to know any information that happens outside of that. Treat any information going through the wooded areas as potential Unseelie contact."

Igraine turned her attention outside the window, wondering how Thorin was faring in the court of the man that had angered him so much. It was almost comical the way that he had ended up in Unseelie clutches before her, when he had berated her for so long about falling into their hands.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath listened to D'Angelo's words. Right then, he knew that he had a different thought process. If someone had offered him that position, he would have accepted it without a moments hesitation. Then again, he had a rough history with taking positions and making the situations even more dire. Even though he looked around the same age as these men, his mind was much older and his thinking was almost always flawed.

“I don't blame you...not just any man can be a High General.” Vylrath said, without a hint of emotion in his words. He had had the job in the past, which hadn't exactly given him a shining reputation.

“If I were a full demon, I could have been done with this mess by now.” Vylrath said, for once regretting being what he was. While Vuri were strong in nature, they didn't match up to a full demon's strength. Thinking back to his son, he wondered how such an idiot could have been taken by the enemy. “Maybe the sword would actually react like it's supposed to...” Vylrath said, noting the difference in the sword's reaction with his Vuri form. Instead of controlling the energy, he felt as though he were enslaved to it. The exchange of energy could be exhausting in a full battle.

Listening to Igraine, he was happy that intelligence was with his daughter at least. When she mentioned a “Queen Mab” his curiosity grew. He doubted he'd ever be introduced, but it didn't hurt to ask about her. “Queen Mab? Never heard of her...you'll have to introduce me sometime.”

With two son's captured, he wondered what chance they really had against someone like King Pendaran. He didn't know a damned thing about him, but from the way Igraine spoke about him, it wouldn't be a simple battle like his past wars. Not that wars were simple, but he had always almost been able to manipulate his way with the enemy.

He watched her looking out the window, with a sort of thoughtful reverie.“I hope you run into Thorin first, because I don't know how I'll react when I see the moron. I could care less about Trydian, but it'll take all of my patience to keep myself from beating Thorin in front of the King.”

Vylrath never really had patience, but it was embarrassing to admit that his son's had been taken and the fight hadn't even really begun.

[Igraine]

Igraine laughed as she looked back at her father. She wasn't sure she would be any better at holding her temper than Vylrath. Her eyes found her father's and she nodded, quietly, contemplating such a reunion after the fiasco that had occurred not so long ago.

It would seem that Thorin was quick to find himself in danger whenever she wasn't around to...coach his choices. A laugh escaped her lips at the thought of trying to coach Thorin. Gods, but it was like trying to cage a wild beast. Every single thing that she did was marked with disdain and met with angst and grief. Igraine pressed a hand to her belly and smiled, hoping that she wouldn't have such issues with their daughter. Perhaps she would be more grown up than her father.

Igraine frowned briefly before looking up at Vylrath again.

"Father, where is Caela? I think she feels somewhat responsible for Thorin's actions earlier and I don't want her to worry. It is so unlike her to not make an appearance. I hope nothing has happened to her." Another frown creased Igraine's brow as she studied the floor for a moment. Was it right to send Vylrath to Caela? Did Caela even want to be alone with the man that had impregnated her not once, but twice? Oh, sure, Igraine knew everything about her father -- and her half siblings as well. It was...pertinent that she understand these things given her position as a Queen. If Caela or Sebilla even, were ever reinstated as Queen of Xexoria then it would be a power match once again for the two Kingdoms.

"I think you should look for her. After the Siren incident and Sebilla, Thorin, and Trydian's capture we can't exactly have family roaming free without escort."

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

Vylrath wouldn't have to look far for his oldest daughter. She had crept down to the dungeons, hearing the dying whimpers of the Siren who's tongue was cut out and who, by the smell of her old congealing blood, was well on her way to death. There would be no saving her.

Caela kept to the shadows as much as possible, pausing to check the pulses of men long dead to D'Angelo's hands. With a savage twist, a sickening pop, and a good heave -- Caela had dinner. It was almost too fresh. She contemplated taking more, but a finger would hold her over and it wouldn't be overly missed in the grand scheme of things. Caela chewed on the finger, relishing the dead flesh for the energy it gave her. Old blood and old dead flesh would be better. Not too old, three days was best, but putrifaction couldn't set in -- otherwise the flesh would be ruined.

Caela crept to the door of the Siren's cell and looked inside, the finger stripped completely of it's flesh. She tossed the bone and tendon aside. It made a clattering so loud that, for the briefest moment, the Siren stopped breathing entirely. So startled was the creature that Caela was almost certain she had given it a heart attack.

"So you caused all of this...trouble." Caela bent down as she entered the cell, swiping her fingers through the thick congealing blood of the Siren. She ran her fingertips over her lips and licked them clean. Her blood tasted fascinating. It didn't seem to be overly sweet or even disgusting as some creatures were. Especially with blood only a few short hours old.

Caela spotted the creature's tongue and picked it up off the floor. The Siren was backed deep into a dark corner, her beady eyes watching Caela's every movement. She thought she heard a horrified gag as she ate the creature's tongue in one bite. There was no doubt now who was considered a monster, at least to the dying Siren.

Caela took up a spot sitting on the floor. It was a clean spot, though well within reach of the pool of blood.

"Take your time dying. I have all the time in the world." Caela grinned, her midnight blue eyes sparkling dangerously in the low light of the dungeon. The torchlight lit up the sparkling silver flecks, making her seem more a demonic goddess than the Vuri creature she actually was. This woman, this Vuri, was the only one to give birth to a full Vuri child -- in a way she could be grotesquely viewed as a mother goddess -- though she had no godlike powers to boast of.

If the Siren didn't die soon, Caela would finish the job. She couldn't exactly just sit here all night long. Someone would notice her absence, and she needed time to clean herself up. Eating dead bodies was messy, messy business.

Caela started humming to herself, an old Xexorian lullaby that Vylrath had hummed to her as a child in the crib, back when he wasn't such a monster and hadn't used her body in horrifying ways. Sure, the scars were gone, but Vylrath had been an angry drunk.

A very, very angry drunk.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath listened to Igraine and nodded in agreement. He would see to Caela, but it wouldn't exactly be a warm reunion between father and daughter. Caela hated him more than anyone from his past. Even now, he could feel her hatred toward him. Maybe Igraine, wanted to create something between him and Caela, but it couldn't develop into something positive- not from his history with her.

He left the room with his nerves in a bundle, the anger subsided. While that emotion was gone, another one had been created. Vylrath didn't appreciate, that Kahlan had allowed his new body a conscience. He felt everything, understood the desires of people. It was resentment that harbored his mind, while he sought his daughter Caela. Of all people to feel that emotion, Vylrath should have been the last.

Walking down the steps to the dungeon, he could hear the voice of Ceala and the sounds of breaking bone. The siren was still busy dying, but her breath had begun to shallow. He sighed, listening to her hum the lullaby he had sung to her as an infant. She had looked and acted like her mother as a young girl, something he prided himself in- maybe that was why he was unable to get over the death of Isabella back then. It wasn't something he expected anyone to understand, but he had tried to keep Isabella out of plight and in that one moment, he had failed.

Vylrath walked past her, stepping by her as though she didn't exist. It was an act the two were accustomed to, but in truth, he was cursed with her presence, as much as she was with his. Unsheathing the blade, he arched it at an angle. Using enough force, he made sure that the blade sliced through the neck of the siren, taking her head clean off. The blade would gleam, in what little light they had in the dungeon.

Sheathing his blade, he looked toward Caela, who sat in a corner like some unkempt thing. It wouldn't be the first time that Vyl took something away from her. Every lover she had ever had, he had killed them with an unnatural satisfaction. But this time was different, the Siren had to die and she was taking her time with the act.

“Even now, you hesitate with killing.” Vylrath paused, knowing this wasn't the time to question her abilities. “Your sister wanted me to find you...she was worried. Do not come to her bloodied. I don't need to have Igraine upset.” He watched her, feeling some animosity toward her because of her features. She still looked like her mother, even how her demeanor played itself in such a questionable place. “She's already been through enough.”

“Do not get the wrong idea that I came for you, or your children. I am here for Igraine.” Vylrath explained. His way of speech might be different to her. There would be too many emotions behind the words, or the way his body tensed when he spoke.

“Finish eating and gain some strength. Then you can join us.” Vylrath said, starting to make his way back up the stairs. The death of the siren could have been quick, if he had been in complete charge of it. The lullaby that had been hummed, began to haunt his mind. Vylrath cursed himself for being so drawn to a memory he had left behind years ago. Even to this day, he still hadn't forgiven himself for Isabella's death, the lullaby bringing back his mourning and treatment of Caela.

Was he the only one that didn't hesitate with killing? He didn't expect Caela to speak to him, let alone acknowledge he had been there. She would be better off pretending like he was a stranger and still dead.

[Igraine]

Disappointment mottled Caela's features as Vylrath, yet again, sucked all the fun out of everything. The Siren wasn't hurting anyone, and her fear was almost intoxicating. Coming down off that high of fear and adrenaline, Vylrath wouldn't make it very far at all away from his oldest daughter.

Caela caught him by the arm and twisted him back around. She was of average height, though now she could look into his eyes instead of having to look up. This new form of his held far more advantage for her than it did for him. Without hesitation Caela laughed and grabbed her father by the throat and guided him forcefully to the wall. At this point she really didn't care if she hurt Vylrath.

Caela put a finger to her lips as she listened for anyone coming. This was between her and her father, no one else was going to be privy to this. When no one came, and she blessed Igraine for her foresight in calling off the guards. Vylrath's body hitting the wall would have caused some sort of alarm among them. Caela turned her attention back on Vylrath, her midnight blue eyes menacing to their very core.

"If you were her for me I would already be pregnant." Caela mused with a hint of a smile. "Or you would already be dead again. I have no patience for a man like you, Vylrath. I refuse to call you my father. You taught me everything I know about fighting, but I taught myself more. I'm sick of your attitude. I'm sick of the way you strut around here thinking you own the place, that because you love Igraine more than the rest of your children -- that you can just assume you own us. We are not yours to command. You may be the first Vuri, but god help me I was the only one for a long time. The only one, so forgive me if I think your appearance a little premature."

Caela squeezed her fingers around Vylrath's throat and looked at him, peering deep into his eyes. There was a soul there, a conscience that she could almost see. She laughed in his face and let him go.

"You are no long allowed to tell me what I am to do. You lost that right a long time ago when Trydian was born." Caela darted into the cell and began rending flesh from bone, taking the choice bits and setting them aside, and cleaning the Siren's body completely of her flesh and innards. What was useless to her would be discarded through fire and burial. "If you think about touching me Vylrath, think twice. I have no qualms about standing up to Kahlan for killing you again. You and I both know she understands how very much in the right I am for doing that. In fact, she could bring you back again just for me to kill you -- again and again and again." Caela laughed as she began eating the Siren's heart. The creature was filling her with sustenance and...something else. It was strange, but Vylrath wouldn't notice anything from where he was in the hall -- shrouded in darkness as she was.

The Vuri had a voracious appetite when presented with the proper amount of dead flesh. They were capable of great acts of power but for only a short period of time, and their metabolisms were quick -- almost too quick. Caela had the Siren's body eaten in under an hour's time. She didn't bother offering to share with Vylrath, this was not his creature and she would sooner take off any of his limbs than allow him within five feet of her kill. When she presented herself to Vylrath, covered in blood as she was, she was changed in a way that would probably entice and disturb him all at once.

Caela looked more like her old self again. Her hair was long and flowing, a deep rich blood red shot through with gold and platinum blonde. Her eyes were rich deep violet, like the hour of dusk where there is just a spare breath of "between". There were fewer silver flecks in her eyes but they shone brilliantly in the twilight of the dungeon. Her skin, once a creamy pale shade was again a medium tan. Her face became more angular, almost as if she were demonic again -- but there was a softer, more gentle edge to the look. Eating the Siren had bequeathed some of the strangest changes in Caela -- and Vylrath might think he was seeing a ghost. An altered ghost, but one vividly in his past. His daughter looked more like her old self than ever, though her hair and eyes were darker than they once were.

"You're still here." Caela spoke, and her voice sounded highly disappointed. She obviously didn't register how much she had changed. None of the Vuri had ever eaten anything with power besides Baleron. None of them realized how certain powers might alter or change their current state. This was a learning curve indeed, one that was very exciting but also very dangerous. A Vuri could be force fed to gain certain powers and then unleashed to do great harm to themselves and others. This development would have to be played close to the chest, as it were, so that the realization didn't become popular knowledge.

[Vylrath]

“And even if I die again, I will still be here. In your mind, heart, soul...even in your children...” Vylrath rubbed at his sore neck and nursed his sore pride. Thankfully, he had taught Caela to be tough, even after he had left her. His children needed to have a fighting spirit, if they thought they would stand a chance in this world.

There was little that would disturb a man like Vylrath. The sound of someone eating flesh and gnawing on bone hardly did anything to his nerves. Leaning against a wall, he watched Caela with little infatuation, but his eyes were quickly transfixed on her figure. She was alluring, but in a sense that it was not her own power. He chuckled, wondering if she had felt the change, or acknowledged what had seeped into her veins as she fed.

“As for attitude, you inherited your own piece of attitude from me. Your mother hardly attacked, or mouthed off like that!” Vylrath spoke rather proudly of that acknowledgment. “As for Trydian...he isn't our only son, or did you forget about Soren?” Vylrath paced in what little room they had. He hadn't counted on a reunion with Caela.

There were a lot of tense subjects between them, but tense was an understatement. Soren had damned himself, when he had attacked a fellow family member. Even though Vylrath was strict and even cruel, he still had his own rules with his clan. “He choose his fate the moment he attacked his own kin. You know that I do not let betrayal go unpunished...” Vylrath waved a hand, as if to ward the memory away.

He watched her body language closely, especially the way she recoiled around him. There had always been more fight in Caela, which might have been why he didn't need to protect her as much as Igraine. Vylrath remembered their first spar and how she could pick up a sword at such a young age. Caela had out-shined even the boys in her age group then- perhaps that was why he had been so hard on her.

Listening to her vent, he let her do just that. He watched her eat the heart with a relentless furor. He saw himself in her, time and time again. “If you think killing me again will bring you release, you could have easily done it by now. Should you kill me, then Igraine won't have my strength or guidance. While she is strong, she doesn't have your strength.” Vylrath paused, guessing she didn't understand Igraine's predicament “Her child is tainted. Igraine was once pure...something I tried to protect. She was the only child not touched by my world.”

“Now she will have to learn to live with that taint and teach her daughter.” With those words, his voice got heavier, filled with constant regret. “You were born strong.” He said, removing the sword from his person. Vylrath felt the scabbard one last time, before throwing it at her feet.

“It's only right that the sword is with its partner.” Vylrath said, rarely giving up any of his possessions for anyone. The sword was created to partner with the darkness blade that Caela recently owned. He watched her carefully, wondering if she would use it against him.

“Even though I have my differences with Trydian, I will bring him back...he is my son after all.” He said, not for her approval, but for his own. If she took the blade, then she would be considered leader of the Vuri- regardless of Isabella's stance.

“You should carry the blade, since you have shown the most strength since my death. It isn't the first time I've taken orders from a woman.” He didn't want the thing. The sword had drained too much out of him and maybe it required the owner who held the darkness blade. If she refused, he supposed he could entrust it to Igraine.

[Igraine]

The sword clattered to her feet and she bent down, scooped it up and tucked it deftly beneath the belt around her hips. Caela glanced at Vylrath, listening to him carefully before shrugging her shoulders.

"Igraine went a long time without you in her life. Don't screw this up for her. She was the only one of us that didn't have you persistently in her life. She loves you and she needs you. I respect her decision to have you around and Kahlan's decision to bring you back. I understand the need for such things in the current state of affairs." Caela cleaned her mouth on the hem of her dress and wiped her hands clean along her hips. She looked as if she had been through hell.

"I was born half demon. I had more demon in me than Roen did when he was first born. He obviously ended up growing into his powers more." Caela gestured tiredly at nothing but including Thorin in the process. "It is unfortunate that this family loves it's members. A gene surely perpetuated by you." Caela pushed her fingers through her hair, looking at her nails with some disdain as she picked dried blood from her cuticles.

"I stand by my decision not to trust you as far as I can throw you. I can't seem to escape your influence -- but I don't consider you my father. To me you're just the man that raised me and taught me how to fight. You taught me about love, however screwed up it was. I hope that I can find something of what Thorin and Igraine have had. She might be tainted but she will find a way to cope. She has more inner strength than I ever had -- at least until now."

Caela reached out and touched Vylrath's cheek. It was a generous and even almost loving gesture. They almost looked like twins with his red hair and blue eyes. Caela thought about what he said of Soren and smirked.

"Yes, I had another son through you. Soren was a good child but he was always so angry. He fell in love with Sebilla and when she could not love him in return...he decided that no one could have her. That irritated Trydian, of course, and so they fought. He lost and I banished him from the Vuri society and the Island of Xexoria. A mother's love only goes so far. Having him was one of the most brutal experiences I have ever had the pleasure of living through." Caela let her hand drop and she headed for the door to the dungeons.

"I'm going to get cleaned up. Would you mind disposing of the Siren's innards for me? Burn them and then bury them -- otherwise we might have an issue with "visitors". Do not put them in the water." Caela turned a piercing glare on Vylrath, as if to dare him to challenge her. He might notice that it would be difficult not to do what she desired. Indeed, almost in the same way Vylrath found the Nymph to be attractive -- but far less innocent.

Caela turned and left the dungeons quickly, running up to her room and changing her clothes quickly, throwing them in a pile near the door. She submerged her whole body in a tub of steaming hot water to rid herself of grime and blood. She leaned her head back against the tub and sighed audibly. Vylrath would be able to find her easily, he knew her scent intimately after all.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath listened to her, cleaning the area and burning the remains outside. The smell would waft up to castle windows, for sure getting some of the others attention. He felt at ease, maybe because of Caela's new placement, or the fact he had bestowed the sword on her- either way, his mind was clear.

He remembered her touch, the memory of her rape immediately taking over. His guilt drowned out other emotions, but it was loud in his body language. Even though, the Vuri birth had been difficult and more painful than an average birth, he knew that she might be asked to give birth again. It wasn't an easy solution, but it was the only way they could produce pure blood Vuri.

Meeting her up in her room, he watched her wash. Vylrath knew that she didn't feel his presence then, or she was more comfortable around him. “You should have the power of the siren now. You may not feel the effects immediately, but I haven't exactly been able to stay away from you.” Vylrath admitted, knowing that it might have just been her and not the Siren's pull itself.

“I never wanted to be a father. I never expected anyone to call me that. Demons don't exactly make the best parents...” Vylrath walked to where she was bathing and began to massage her shoulders. It was a soft gesture, one she wouldn't be accustomed to by him. When he felt her body only tense, he stopped and simply watched her. “I guess I deserve that. Even the woman I love is away from me and hardly shows me affection.” He said, wondering where his words were coming from. He didn't sound like himself, then again, father's were rarely watching their daughters bathe.

[Igraine]

Caela felt her whole body stiffen at the sound of Vylrath's voice. His touch only made it worse. He wouldn't be able to see any of her body through the murky bloody water but she still felt overly exposed -- as she should. When he spoke about Kahlan she snorted.

"You have the love of an angel. Not only that but an Arch Angel. Kahlan doesn't give her love freely to just any man, so you must have made an impression when she concieved Igraine. I know that she used you to get another child, but it spiraled out of control for her. For a woman so schooled in controlling her thoughts, emotions, and actions -- I think you woke something in her. She had to leave, she was drained of power. Even I could feel that outside on the other side of the battlements. I know Kahlan well, I have known her for a long time."

Caela mused as she dipped her head beneath the murky surface washing her hair carefully with a gardenia scented soap. Long fingers worked the soap into her hair and she washed it out just as carefully. She was very aware of Vylrath's presence and the fact that she was taking her time.

"If it's any consolation I never wanted to be a mother. Mother dying giving birth to me was something of a taboo for me. However, I'm not dead yet -- though I daresay giving birth to Soren damn well did me in. If I ever give birth again it will be around midwives and other people. Sebilla, my poor child, was doing the best she could but there is only so much one person can do." Caela grabbed at a bath sheet next to the tub and drew it over herself in such a fashion that Vylrath would see nothing of her naked body. She had become adept at that over the years -- one never knew when Vylrath would appear or when he was watching. She stepped out of the tub and looked at her father. In any other situation she might have loved him, but she felt cold indifference for his treatment of her.

"You may not have wanted to be a father, but three very strong women have borne children because of you. You're lucky that one of them still loves you. Mother is at peace, I can feel her at a great distance, and that makes me happy. She went through a lot to have me and I respect her greatly for refusing to pass over from Purgatory. I respect her even more for the strength she had in coming back to the world of the living so close on heels of The End. If it were me, I probably would not have made that leap just to see my daughter -- though I love Sebilla greatly."

Caela tucked the soaking bath sheet tight around her so that it wouldn't slip and fall and Vylrath would be almost incapable of tearing it off of her. She wandered to the closet where there were beautiful dresses hanging next to every day dresses. It was one of the every day dresses in a soft violet hue, that Caela pulled down out of the closet and laid across the bed. She carefully put her underclothes on with the sheet on so that Vylrath was denied any look at her body. It was only then that she relinquished the wet drying sheet to the floor. She looked leaner, harder, more muscled than before -- from all that time spent at the Vuri Sanctuary among her flowers and her garden no doubt. The scars were there on her back but they were very faint across her tanned back. She pulled the dress over her head and pulled the bodice tight across her form. The dress was a little large but not detrimentally.

"How are we going to explain away my sudden...changing appearance? I can feel the Siren's blood in me, like a warmth in the pit of my belly. I've never felt this way before..." Caela glanced at Vylrath to see what his opinion might be -- it was him who had eaten Baleron and suffered them all to be made Vuri. Now it felt as if she were another evolution of the race.

Something altogether different and yet the same. Quite the conundrum indeed.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath watched her carefully, while her silhouette teased him. It was cruel and almost a curse to have such beautiful daughter's and be gifted with a new conscience. If he had been his old self, he was sure that he would have done something unspeakable to her without hesitation. When he had been given the Vuri powers, all of his emotions went away with that change. He only felt emotions and experienced guilt because of Kahlan. Even when Caela spoke of Kahlan, a small part of him cringed at her name. Vylrath loved her, but he also knew that she was the first woman to shackle him.

He was surprised to find Caela asking him for guidance, or at least an explanation in her new self. There was little he could say about it, considering he never put thought into his actions. Vylrath often just went with reckless thoughts and actions. Caela possessed the mind of her mother- which he was thankful for.

“Your mother was always concerned with crap like that.” Vylrath had turned his back to her while she changed. He wouldn't be looking, not when the number of women were against him. “You'll always feel the siren's blood. It's part of the blood curse. How do you think I've stayed alive in the past? I abused it....you have to in this world.” Shrugging, Vylrath was tempted to take the sword again, but let his thoughts be distracted by her silhouette. “You get over the change eventually and you'll be damned if you don't.”

“Maybe with your new gift, you can find a lover.” Vylrath said, almost smirking against his words. He was done with the idea of having more children. Almost with a hidden satisfaction, he recalled Baleron's death vividly.