"Avalêagan Dâ Ur!" Nithil'Zir's voice boomed through the small room, arcane energies crackling around Yukale's body. She fell to the ground, and tried to push herself up. She felt another presence in the room, the sort of dark energy she usually associated with a warlock's pet, only this was much more pronounced. She began to get the impression that her mother wasn't in full control, and that calmed her anger slightly. That unknown presence rushed forward and she felt a sharp pain in her hand.
Thrashing wildly, she managed to get it off of her. Backing into the corner and holding her hand, she saw what was arguably the ugliest looking imp she'd ever seen. And she'd seen a lot of ugly imps.
Her mother smiled, "Is he not adorable?"
"If you could call it that," Yukale replied dryly, trying to flex her fingers. She couldn't feel the ring finger on her right hand. The imp had probably broken it, but she wasn't about to remove her glove and check until she was far, far away from here.
"I do, and I did. Come now, Yukale, do you think I am not aware of your rather..sundry skills? I've seen the surprising amount of damage you can wreak. Now calm down, sit down, and shut the hell up!" She sounded both proud and disgusted by her daughter's abilities.
Though Yukale didn't calm down, she did sit and shut up. As soon as she did so, a numb sort of grief settled in the pit of her stomach.
"I was hoping..well in all honesty, I've missed you, daughter-mine. We are more alike than you may want to admit, right now. My father, like my mother, was banished, though they were hardly on the best of terms. I never really knew him," She sighed, beckoning the imp closer and patting it lovingly on the head. "And I saw how close you and Azrale were, and I suppose I wanted that with my own father. I thought you two would be fine on your own. You did not need me."
Yukale could scarcely believe what she was hearing, "It tore him up!" And then it occurred to her, "He knew, didn't he.."
"Yes, he did. He did not expect me to embrace my heritage. Our heritage."
"It's an -addiction-!" Yukale glanced down at the demon, "The worst possible kind! Mother, you -have- to stop this! Goddess above.." I'm not leaving here without her..
"It is a -need- a..desire. An itch, in some ways, that just needs to be scratched...And it is nothing to fear." The imp almost seemed to purr as Nithil'Zir scratched under it's chin.
Shuddering, the rogue murmured, "I've heard this before..."
"You have?" Both her mother and the imp tilted their heads, "Ah! Na'lira! Your friend, the one you call Eilirria. She wishes to reclaim her heritage as well."
Yukale's head snaps up, "No! I won't let her!"
Nithil'Zir continued, as though oblivious, "I find myself rather interested in her. My sister has great potential..."
