ACT I
Love is a paradox.
It can drive great acts of kindness,
or grind the gears of war.
Love is not patient. It can make one patient for a time but that makes it all the worse when the waiting has been in vain. Love is not kind, it merely forces one to act kind. Love is envious and jealous above all others. To gain love one will vaunt himself. Love forces women and men to act unseemly and love seeks only her own. For the sake of love one will be easily provoked. Love forces one to bear much, believe much, hope much and endure much. Love is cruel. To wield love is to wield absolute power because love compromises all. Love is the first of all emotions because all can be caused by or for the sake of love. In a sentence, love is anything but loving.
But love can be an ally. Therefore, learning to love pain is not a hard step to take. It grants a whole new dimension to the concept of suffering because to love is pain…
One hundred and fourteen years elapsed and forgotten, war raged across the face of the earth. The blood of mortals, monsters and demigods and gods watered her with their blood.
Ares and Pallas Athena walked a demigod down the Olympian Road through Tartarus. The demigod's eyes darted two and fro, back and forth between his captors and all the horrors taking place around him. He coughed and hacked as he tried to breath in the noxious air and his eyes watered as the sulfurous atmosphere of Tartarus became thicker and thicker. He was ruthlessly shoved forward by the two patrons of war every time he stopped to take a breath. The trio came to a stop at a cell in one of the darkest places of the pit. The child took in the enormity of the horrible existence that was to be thrust upon him and began to involuntarily shudder. The two war gods relished the smell of fear and desperation that was rolling off of the demigod, it was… intoxicating. Finally, Ares spoke into the brisk breeze. "This is the end of the line kid." The demigod gave no answer save a shudder before being unceremoniously shoved in by Athena. The two immortals turned around and started back the way they had come, gradually fading from Tartarus back into the world above while the demigod remained in the embrace of darkness and despondency.
Current time begun, a lone huntress walked quietly through the woods. She held her bow at the ready. An arrow knocked, but the bow string slack. She drew her silvery parka closer as hot puffs of air signaled her breathing. Her prey had led her all the way from Oregon up into Alaska. An elder hellhound, her prey had evaded her at every turn. Now she was more wary, after all, it wasn't called the land beyond the gods for nothing, she could already feel a lack of power and energy. Her senses weren't as heightened and as she looked around, brushing her brown hair out of her wide brown eyes, all of the wild things – the rocks, trees and underbrush – no longer made her feel safe, but gave her a sense of unease and dread.
About five minutes later, just enough time for her to calm her nerves, she lost the trail. She crouched down, trying to see if it was a change in terrain that had made the difference but no, the trail just… stopped. At that moment, she heard a low growl. If possible, she crouched down even lower and turned in a slow circle, arrow notched and bow at the ready. She heard the growl again and two glowing red eyes came into view. Slowly, the dog stalked out of the woods into the clearing. It was huge. From foot to withers alone it stood almost six feet tall and from tail to snout was half again as long. It's charcoal black fur was rough but the limbs beneath were still lithe and muscular, around its mouth the fur was matted as though it was perpetually caked with the blood of its most recent kill.
The beast regarded her with eyes that bespoke years of intelligence. Hundreds of years of instinct handed down through its genes. This half-breed foul-smell would only be one of many that the hellhound had mauled and later eaten. Giving no warning the hellhound pounced on the poor girl and she was so frightened that she missed her shot. Luckily, months of training with the rest of her sisters had burned into her muscles the instincts of survival and she quickly rolled out of the way. The hound landed behind her and began swiftly running at her again. She notched a second arrow, shot, and what luck! The arrow lodged itself into the monsters hind leg. But to her horror, the beast kept coming. She waited until the mutt was close and dove out of the way at the last second with her hunting knives out. She missed her swing, but the hellhound managed to take a swipe at her and its claws drew long red ribbons of blood from her thigh, slicing through soft skin and hard muscle alike. The huntress readied herself for another bout but the wolf gave her no time to recover. She attempted a double overhanded strike but the hound head-butted her and sent her and her knives flying in different directions. The girl watched with fear as the hellhound knocked both of her knives even farther away. This was the end. The family she had known for only a few months was about to be taken from her. However, she resolved herself to meet her death head on and look it in the eye. That thought soon changed when the hellhound let out a bark and pounced. She closed her eyes as tight as she could as if it could stall the inevitable pain. But when no pain came, she opened her eyes. What she saw made them widen in shock. The hellhound's great jaws were almost completely closed around her neck, missing the pale skin by mere millimeters. A thin gleaming blade protruded from the side of the beast's chest and she could hear the animal making a keening noise. With a ruffle of the fur and the crackle of dead leaves, the beast rolled over and she got a good look at her savior. She looked up the long, thin, bloodied blade of what she assumed to be a rapier of some sort and then moved on to the gloved hand. She went up the arm of the jacket, pausing to study the old-fashioned caped inverness coat that hung from his shoulders. The man - for it was obviously a man – held a cane in his other hand. Both arms were beneath the overcoat making it look more like a cloak. Her eyes were drawn to the red satin cravat and then up to his face. She could see the dark skin around his mouth but a mask hid the upper portion of his face and in the shadows cast by the woods his eyes looked like black voids. He spoke in a deep melodious voice "Are you alright child?" The girl made no answer and so the man's head turned, examining her. When he saw her leg he materialized a ball of fire in his hand and held it over the wound for a moment. He spoke again. "I have staunched the bleeding young one but you will still need proper medical attention."
The girl nodded mutely, already searching through her pack for something with which to signal the rest of her sisters.
The hellhound finally started to slowly dissolve, golden flecks of dust making the scene almost beautiful. The masked man turned to leave and opened a portal with which to do so when the girl cried out "Wait!"
The man stopped and turned around saying nothing.
"Who shall I tell them saved me?" The girl asked with genuine curiosity.
"Tell them…" The man turned his head back to the portal and paused. Whether for dramatic effect or to find the right answer none could tell.
"Tell them…" he said, golden flecks of dust floating and swirling in the air giving the scene a sense of ethereal beauty, "…that you were saved by the Count."
AN: I honestly do not have sufficient evidence to exonerate me of the crime of not writing, but I shall indeed try. Over the course of my first year of college I have become a much better writer and thus, when reading over what I had, even though it was not by any means bad (or so I've been told). I had read only fanfiction for so long that I was losing my skills so I set about the process of becoming a better writer. In layman's terms I read actual books. I read and read and read. And my assiduous sampling of literature has proved invaluable to me. I have learned hundreds of new words and I have also learned how to better formulate and execute a good story. My grandest hopes for this story are that one day it is recognized as one of the best one's on this site. In order to better attain that goal, I have once again reexamined my plot for this story and have once again made important changes. It is to that end that I have edited these first 3 chapters. Chapter 4 is already half written (I will admit I have also been suffering from writers block on that specific chapter) and once I get through that, Chapter 5 should come along swimmingly. The major points for chapters 5 and 6 have already been plotted out and they should hopefully serve to pique your interest. Beyond that, I do not know how long it will be before my next update so I will make no false promises of rapidity. chapter 4 should be out within the next week. The only things I can promise you are good, quality chapters. Reviews and PM's are the ultimate joy of fanfiction so keep them coming. Thank you for staying at my side through this long night, the Morning Star rises.