Chaillot

Chaillot wasn't a large Island and there weren't many places to hide a Black jeweled Warlord Prince, but there were many place Daemon could have went to ground if he had done so himself. With rolling hills and small towns that seemed to have been untouched by the witch storm a few years back it all looked calm and peaceful. And they all knew how looks could be deceiving.

The worker's side of town and that of the landen shops seemed well tended to. The aristo side of town and all of the large manor houses… well… it had been expected. The houses were crumbling down to the foundation in some and other's it was clear that if anyone still lived there that they wouldn't in years to come.

They had spread out to search more quickly yet had stayed close enough that they could call out for help and receive it before thing escalated. Even doing so there was no sign of Daemon. Only his dark scent that had been nearly depleted from a few flats. A sent that well past years old and nearly gone now.

A pang of regret surged through Lucivar. Not here. Why couldn't it be that simple… just once? He knew it wouldn't be but hell he had hoped.

Pruul would be next. Not a territory that he wanted to see again in his life time. Not a place Daemon would have chosen to go. But it was close… it was…

He descended to the full strength of his jewel and called out on a spear thread * Daemon*

Nothing answered expect his own unease. Well that was just fine. Damn who ever had wanted to play. Damn them to the bowls of hell. They wanted to play fine he was willing to play the game he knew all too well. A flash of ebon gray hit one of the empty houses. Those who were near came from their homes to see the witch fire consume the house. A nearly enraged warlord Prince stood before it. His dark membrouse wings flaring out from his side. There was no need to ask who. The why was easy, he was hunting. The what… now that was the real question and no one and nothing would be safe till either he exhausted his jewels or he found his chosen prey.

One more time he called *Sadi* he let anger flow. It should have had ice returning his call. The fact that didn't only pissed him off more. Either he wasn't here or he couldn't answer. What could stop Daemon form reaching out…

He almost missed the answer. If not living through a living Hell for his first 1700 years of life he would have… Lucivar turned too quickly on his friends. Battle fire blazing in his eyes. No one said anything as he passed. No one to stop him, they wouldn't have been able to if they. The Witch fire blazed behind him and his war blade was screaming for blood.

His dark wings spread and he was heading to a place that deserved his anger… and hopefully would bring one step closer to finding his bother and the bitch who wanted to play with an enraged warlord prince.

Pruul

Lucivar's stomach rolled. He had been here far too long to not know the land. Not know the stench. Those who still lived here held a lethal fearfulness in their eyes. Children didn't play in the streets as much as they stalked the ground ready to bolt at the first sight of someone unknown. That fear did nothing for his temper but it did wonderful this for his clarity.

He had rode the Ebon-Gray winds to get here… it would take his friends longer. Even if they found a web coach and Chaosti drove it he had time to work out some of his temper… or work his temper to hot rage. It didn't matter which, but he needed to the see what he could find form the air. And needed to know what would be a better calling card for the Sadist… a few small islands set a blaze under witch fire or a trail or destruction over the whole damn realm.

By time he had done a full circuit around the island his friends were standing on the official landing web. Waves of wariness and anger rolled off them. He excepted that… he didn't except to snapped at by a Dea al Mon warlord prince.

"Was that necessary?"

"The blood in Terrielle are scared of Daemon and myself when we're apart. More so if they think we're enraged. They also know the only one who can do a damn thing about my temper is my brother. So yes, it was necessary. And if I have to set have this damn realm under a tongue of witch fire so be it."

"And what happen to quick and quite?" Aaron came up to his friend's side not rally paying attention to the barren land.

"I don't like the game anymore. Besides if Daemon went to ground then sending him a message is a good way to wake the Sadist. And if he's here by other than his own will… Well hell things will start to get really interesting. "

Ladvarian started barking at the entrance to a mine. He would have just told them that he had smelled something. Hell he had tried but using craft enhanced barking seemed a much better way to get the stubborn males to listen. Besides it always worked with the coven.

"Alright. What is it?" Lucivar growled. What else could he do? If he killed the dog he would have to explain why to Jaenelle… no maybe not to her but he would have to explain it to the High Lord and then to Witch. The thought alone made him shutter.

"There's smells down there"

Smells could mean anything from a rabbit that now made that hole it's home to a person trying to hide. Very slowly and not taking his eye off the entrance Lucivar asked, "What kind of smells?"

Ladvarian looked back and almost looked puzzled. Rotted meat would be the same as saying bad smells. And it did smell rotted but not in that way. Not knowing how to explain it in a way that the human males would understand he only said, "We should stand witness for whatever was left there."

No. No. And no. he was not going down there. And there was nothing that the little dog could say to get him to. His mission was to find Daemon and Lia not to visit the very place that he had almost lost his wings. The one place that had been so far burned into his memory he could still smell the stench in his nightmare. And he was not going down there now.

Chaosti stepped forward. "I'll tack a quick look to satisfy the dog and cat then we can go somewhere else."

"Five minutes then I'm leaving with or without you."

Chaosti nodded once and followed Ladvarian down into the mine. Not two minutes later he sent a calm yet panicked message. * Prince Yaslana your assistance is requested."

Lucivar had a bad feeling about this. This hadn't been the salt mine that he had been held in. At least he didn't think it was. But hell it was bringing all his old memories of his old "home" to close to the surface. To close to breaking his own self-control. Bringing everything that he held in the back of his mind to a place that he couldn't ignore.

No he did not like this. Not one damn bit.