A/N: Random idea I had, no idea how long I will run with it. Thinking OC x Valeria pairing. Oh, and importantly, only saying this once:
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING, property of Marvel, blah, blah, etc., etc.
Currently 11 chapters, might come back to this one at some point.
EDIT 28/08/15: Fixed formatting issues from when I uploaded this.
Child of Doom
Inky blackness pervaded the dense forest in the night, split only by a flickering campfire in a small clearing. A teenaged girl paced by the orange light, concentrating on a leather bound tome in her hands.
She cut a small figure; short but lithe, though most of her form was encased in cloth and metal. A verdant green tunic was her main apparel, swathes of cloth from just above her knees sweeping upwards to a single golden clasp on her left shoulder. Overlaying the fabric was an artful silver breastplate, swept up to the right shoulder, Celtic knots wrapping around the edges. Similar armour graced her slim forearms in vambraces, and greaves over her shins. A leather belt had a few pouches, and several knives strapped to it, containing what she kept on her person in the mortal plane. Her clothing was completed with a green cowl around her head, obscuring long, fiery red hair, ever so slightly pointed ears and purple eyes that occasionally glowed as she plied her craft. Fair to say, she wasn't the average fourteen year old girl to be found at this time, not that she had known until a few months before. Indeed, she had rarely seen anyone outside of her mother until that time.
Sighing, Sofia, for that was her name, closed the book, and murmured a spell to banish the tome as her thoughts once again turned to previous events.
#############################################################################################
She had seen her mother angry before, but never in such a rage as today, raving about her traitorous apprentice. The woman had sent spells flying all over the stone walled keep in which she kept Sofia, one of many homes that she had across the time streams and countries.
When Sofia had attempted to approach the red-haired witch, hateful purple eyes that she had inherited stared back. She began to vent her rage on her daughter instead, firing off attacks that the girl could barely counter in time, all the whole shouting at her, calling her a mistake, the bastard spawn of a traitor.
Eventually, as it had to, her attempts at shielding let through a spell and her light form was thrown back through a balcony door. She did not finish a hastily muttered spell in time to save her a broken arm upon landing in wet grass. Looking up through the rain-filled night, she saw her mother leaning from the balcony, purple aura surrounding her.
"I cast you out, you and your filthy blood shall never again have my love. Begone!" she yelled, hands waving in the air as she performed her magics. Terror suffused her body as the earth shuddered around, and the lumbering beasts of war her mother was so talented at summoning rose up, and fixed black eyes on her.
And she had run.
Oh so far, and for oh so long through the dark and stormy night she had run,, across the moors of Scotland, chased for hours by mindless beasts that desired only to rend her asunder like so much meat on a carcass.
She did not know when she got away from them, when they were no longer close, she just kept on going, limbs burning with effort, until the blessed sight of a village loomed up. As she slowed, exhaustion made itself known, threatening to drop her there and then. She stumbled on shaky legs into the small collection of wooden homes in search of a tavern or the like, before simply collapsing at a haystack, blackness encroaching on her vision.
#############################################################################################
The memory still haunted her, four months later. It had taken her a few days to truly come to the realisation that her mother was not coming to find her. It had taken longer for her to come up with any idea of what she was going to do.
Sofia sat down upon a fallen log, and stared into the flames of the fuel-less fire. This was Latveria, or so she was told when she passed through towns in Hungary. But there were few towns here, and no rulers to speak of. Not yet anyway. Time became an awkward thing when dealing with higher magics, those truly skilled could essentially live forever as long as they were alive at another point in their time stream, and it made bridging the ages an easy task. Sofia however, had not studied transference as much as her mother, either in this plane, or in time, hence having to travel to this country manually over the space of months instead of seconds.
She absent-mindedly fondled the surface of the scratched golden clasp by her shoulder. It remained the only thing Sofia had of her father's, given to her absent-mindedly by her mother many years past. The woman had always told her she would be introduced to the man when she was ready, when she was worthy of being an heir. This was her plan, her only option really. Her mother had cast her out, so she sought the father she had never known. Of course, that was slightly more difficult when he was at another point in time.
Giving a grimace she once more summoned the grimoire, gazing over the page with the spell for what felt like the thousandth time. Setting her jaw resolutely she displaced it again, and stood. There was no time like the present, and it was unbefitting of her bloodline to sit around worrying.
With deft fingers, she pulled off the golden clasp, placing it on the tree trunk upon which she had sat. With practiced ease she settled her stance, legs spread apart and hands outthrust, and began to chant in the language of the Fae. Words slipped easily from her tongue, and she could feel power suffuse her form, eyes glowing. Without even glancing down, she took a dagger blade from its sheath on her hip, and ran it across the palm of her other hand. From the weeping cut surged forth droplets of crimson that swiftly disappeared as the spell consumed her blood for its power.
As the last syllable dropped from her pink lips, the golden metal began to rise, floating into the air surrounded by a glowing aura of purple magic. With confidence, Sofia reached out a hand and grabbed it. Immediately, the world blurred around her, time shifting as centuries fell away. Sofia considered the flashing light around as night and day changed impossibly quickly, trees falling and growing at accelerated speed. Finally, with a sense of dizziness clouding Sofia's mind, the light stopped, and she was standing among tall trees in the night once more. Slight nervousness clasped her stomach as Sofia gazed upwards into a cloudless night sky, stars twinkling.
With a murmuring of words, shadows gathered to the girl's back. She smiled slightly as the spell she herself invented a year ago completed its work. Shadowy wings formed from her back, flapping experimentally and giving off wisps of smoke from their translucent shape as they moved through the air. With a grin, she launched herself off into the cool, crisp night air, twirling as she did. This was her achievement in spell craft, while her mother simply floated on magics, Sofia soared with the birds. It gave a sense of freedom like nothing else. She wheeled in the air, scanning the horizon. It was not difficult to spot the huge gathering of light on the near horizon, and she glided towards it.
Up from the Earth spread a great castle, huge Gothic spires and towers gathered around a hill. And below it spread something the likes of which Sofia had never seen, a city larger than London, all of stone brick and red roofs. Light spread from everywhere, windows and strange lamps on the strange black roads. From the air though, she could see the city was a thing of order, built up at the base of the castle and spreading outwards. Streets in calculated places, perfectly spreading over the area. She also had to note several defensive walls, both around the city and at points within. Her calculating mind saw strangle-points for any invading army. This city was put together with forethought and logical precision.
Gazing over at the looming castle, Sofia knew she had found the right place. She knew her father to be the Lord of this country, and it seemed only right someone like her mother would find only an intelligent, powerful man suitable of fathering her child.
Putting effort behind flapping, she winged her way towards the great stone building. She flew over the edge of the city, avoiding being in plain sight thanks to previous encounters of people trying to shoot her out of the sky. As she got near the castle, she wheeled away, feeling the magical defences.
With practiced grace, she landed by a sally port on the outer walls, banishing the shadowy wings as she landed. Stepping back, Sofia considered the large metal door, and numerous murder-holes around it. It was unlikely the door was heavily guarded; a skilled warlock would have instead protected the gate with magic. Sure enough, as she probed it, she felt the wards set up, many specifically against those of magical blood such as herself. Casting a few spells to determine their nature she couldn't help but smile as she discovered the blood wards at the heart of the castle defences.
Blood was a powerful thing for a sorcerer, used in some advanced spell work, and made something bound to it virtually unusable to any but the owner without extensive work on disconnection. Of course, that was only needed if you didn't have blood the magic would not recognise.
With calm confidence, Sofia placed her hand on the large ring at the centre of the door. Magic flared around her as spells powered up defences, and attempted to identify her, before fading. She withdrew her hand as the metal portal slowly drifted open.
Apprehensively, she walked through the doorway, trying and failing not to flinch as the door swung shut behind her. She carefully, but slowly with more confidence strode down a stone flag corridor, lit by torches on the wall. The steady clicking of her metal greaves on stone flags echoed in the corridor, adding to a slight eerie atmosphere.
Her striding stopped at an archway without a door, where Sofia could but gape at the contents of the room beyond. A library the size of a cathedral was within, endless bookshelves and cabinets of artefacts. She stepped into the room, past a pair of odd suits of armour she paid no attention to, gazing around at the treasure trove of stored knowledge. Knowledge had always been her weakness; she wished to learn more, to know more, to impress her mother and perhaps be worthy of meeting her mysterious father.
Sofia was torn from such thoughts by a hard hand around her shoulder, yanking her around on the spot. She looked up to see one of the suits of armour staring down at her with glowing orange eyes that chilled her slightly.
"Access to this level is restricted," it grated out in a strange bastardisation of a male voice, "identify yourself."
"I, err," she stumbled her words as the other suit of armour walked up beside her. 'They must be knights in armour, guarding this wealth of knowledge,' flashed across her mind. "Sir Knights, I do not come to harm."
"You will surrender your weapons and identify yourself or you will be terminated," the knight said in that grating voice, stepping back from her. Both knights held out their right arms from which some kind of tube hung on top, quickly beginning to glow with red light. Though she had no idea what it did, Sofia was instantly aware that the things were dangerous.
"Cease!" commanded an authoritative male voice from behind Sofia. She spun on her heel to see the speaker. He was clad in metal armour, overlaid with a green cloak and cowl. His helm had an odd mask on the faceplate, from which harsh eyes regarded her closely. "I will deal with the intruder myself. Who dares break into the home of Victor Von Doom?" Tentatively, Sofia reached up a hand to move back the hood from her face, allowing light to chase away the shadows that hid her features.
"I am Sofia Von Doom, Sorceress of the Scottish moors, herald of the Morrigan, scion of the Fae."
