Disclaimer: Shizuru and Natsuki and all the other characters from Mai Hime belong to Sunrise. I'm just taking them out of the box while no one is looking.

Also, while studying blood elves, I noticed mine were quite similar to the ones in WoW so, even though I've never seen or played the game, this disclaimer is here as well.

This is my first foray into creative writing so please don't be too harsh but constructive criticism is highly welcomed.

Black dust swept through the canyon, pushed along in a dance with the buzzing wind, eroding away at the rock walls which had been ever changing since the beginning of time. Filling the night air, it made a gray haze that permeated the atmosphere with a solid gloom, amplifying the despair of the peoples and animals that inhabited the land. A lone lizard, irritated by the sand in the air, made a high pitched noise of discomfort, spreading the flaps around its head out in order to shield itself from the incoming storm.

Splat.

"I really hate those things," uttered an elf in a long, black trench coat, his eyes glowing a strange incandescent green much like the glow of a firefly. Settling down on a nearby rock, he scraped the lizard off the bottom of his boot, and without fanfare, held it above his head and squeezed till its blood began to drip, catching it in his mouth. When he was done, he lazily flopped the remains over his shoulder, being careful not to get any on his clothes.

"There. That should tide me over until the 'morrow."

He was in Sia Canyon located in the Kingdom of Farthan, two moons walk away from the blood elf capital and his home, Kheyvan. Despite the dangers, he had come here for the same reason many others try. He had heard of a place in the utmost center of the Sia where a powerful demon was waiting, one known for making blood contracts in exchange for bodies, usually those of pure forest elves. Make the contract and deliver, and the magic addiction could be sated with power and demon's blood. Fail or displease the demon, and face a certain death after a slow torture. To many though, this torture was still shorter and more pleasing than the slow torture of not having life magic run through their veins.

"Too bad you shall not see tomorrow," came a lilting voice.

And there were others who chose the torture most of the blood elves wished to throw away.

His glowing eyes jerked up to find the source of the voice. Was it the demon, come to slay him before he had even asked for his due? If so, he was not too proud to beg for his life and acceptance. Sliding to his knees, he lowered his gaze and spoke what was in his heart.

"I've come to serve you. I will bring you many virgins, children even. I will find whatever souls would please you. I will serve you in any capacity you see fit. I will be loyal to the Legion and turn all of this world to the darkness and obliterate all resemblance of righteousness. All this humble servant asks of you is a drop of your glorious life force."

"All the more reason to kill you then," said the voice again. It came softly, surely, with a distinctively feminine pitch to it, but was sharp as a knife to his throat, for it resounded of a promise that would not be broken. If he was going to be killed by this demon, then he hoped to get at least a glimpse as he put up his last fight.

Standing, the blood elf tried to discern his surroundings, but the wind had picked up so much that all noise was muffled and his sight hindered by the black dust and moonless sky. A cold chill permeated his body from both the canyon climate and his impending doom. Pulling his sword from its scabbard, he held it steadily with both hands lowered in front of his body. He was going to enjoy bathing in demons blood, whether it was in victory or his death throes.

Quite abruptly, the dust gave way for a moment, and he was greeted with a sight that was not what he expected. A tall elven woman, with pale features and sandy hair, wearing a long flowing dress. The outer robes were a violet color with billowing sleeves and tied at the waist while her slip and corset were a blood red. Her face had been ducked in her effort to shield it from the dust storm, but as she lifted her features to his sight, he had an immense urge to either run from her in terror or possess her life, for her eyes were a dark crimson that sang to his insanity as all blood like colors did.

Had she not been sporting the colors most often worn by blood elves, he would have mistaken her for a high elf, so unchanged was she from not using dark magics that he was sure she was adept at self control. However, the weapon in her hand left him wondering at how she could wield something of such size that she could hold it, let alone not topple over if placed within its sheath on her back, without the power of some sort of magic. The tsurugi, double edge, long sword in her hand was almost as tall as she was and the blade about a foot wide, the fore of it being smooth sharp steel and the hind edge made into jagged squares.

He was no fool to think that she would be an easy fight, but he had been in the infantry during his time in service and knew how to brandish a sword as good as the next soldier. Taking a fighting stance, he offered his final proposal.

"One of us will be sated with the others blood and free from this curse for a while more then."

"Indeed."

That seemed to mark a starting signal, like the horns for war, or the sound of a commander yelling to attack, for he felt a fire enter him and drew all of the dark energies he had collected around him. His eyes, now a blazing green fire, lit up the surroundings in this arena of small brush plants and swirling dust. Charging towards the woman, whose only acknowledgment of being in a state of battle were the narrowing of her eyes and a readying in her stance, he brought down his sword with all of his force coupled with the dark energy he had gathered.

Then a clank and a sound of tearing and he found himself on the ground. How was that possible? He had not even seen her move and she was still standing in the same position as before. He tried to bring himself to his feet, but he found it to be a hard struggle. Looking down, he felt horror boil out of him at what he saw. Not more than a yard away was the lower half of his sword resting along side the lower half of his body and a puddle of blood, which he had the sickening urge to drink.

"Thank you for your sacrifice. I am sorry that we did not have a proper introduction. Would you be so kind as to do me a favor when you cross to the other side?"

Despite his current state, he was highly curious as to what this polite killer would request of him. Giving a weak nod, he didn't have to wait long.

"If you meet the Obsidian King, tell him, Shizuru Viola is not finished."

And with that, he slumped over, eyes glowing no more.