Chapter 10: Broken Will
In the high heavens above Elibe, a complex series of edifices constructed of marble covered mountains of cotton-like clouds. This large sprawling series of buildings and walls shone with a magnificence that could only be rivaled by the very sun itself. Human-like figures, some with feathered wings and some with scaly wings, flew from each section of the massive construct built in the style of an ancient civilization similar to those from the time when bronze tools were considered superior. In a garden of the skies, where trees with leaves of youth flourished, three maidens meditated around a well that seemed to have endless depth. Together, they formed a triangle. Behind each of the maidens stood a small grove of trees that reflected each of their respective powers.
These three maidens were an enigma to the rest of the heavenly realm. The first, taller and older than the other two women, had hair whose color rivaled the gold which mankind have coveted since the dawn of civilization. Blue eyes of the shade of the skies, lips that were as soft as the first ripe fruit of the season, a nose that was neither long nor short, and a chin that showed stubbornness and defiance made the rest of her face. Underneath a gold and blue cloak, which hung loosely from one shoulder, she wore pearl white robes that shone with serenity, a faint replica of a Sage's robes. Next to her was an open tome of Anima, its pages opened to a diagram of bolts of lightning striking a demon. However, she was the most serious of the three but manages to hide her own emotions well and cover it with a façade of peace and wellbeing.
The second, younger than the first and older than the second, had dark blue hair that shone with a sheen that only the waters of the seas can replicate. Her eyes were akin to those of a gentle doe, softer and deeper in color. Lips with a hint of peach color graced her mouth, giving her the image of a serene lady who is accustomed to standing aside quietly until needed. Robes of pure white, a tome with images of light banishing darkness, and a staff with a great blue crystal mounted on the top end completed her appearance, denoting her talent and expertise as a Valkyrie. However, the small enigmatic smile that seemed permanently fastened onto her face hinted that she was perhaps the more social maiden of the three.
The third, youngest and quietest of the three, had obsidian hair that could barely be discerned from the matte black robes she chose to wear. Her hood, unlike the other two, remained on her head, shadowing her features. Only her nose and mouth were visible, her lips crimson while her skin seem deathly pale. Her robes were similar to those of Druids, except that she chose to hers with shorter sleeves that ended at her elbow. Her hands were small; miniscule compared to the great pages of the Elder tome. Absentmindedly, she traced the image of a demon being gripped by a shadowy hand.
"The Demons are returning," the oldest maiden spoke softly to her two companions. "Can't you feel them, Lachesis?"
"I know what you mean, sister," the second, Lachesis, replied. "Yet, we can't do anything to stop their resurrection…"
"Don't be too hasty," the third, Atropos, murmured quietly. "Remember what our mortal allies have sworn to do should the Legionnaire return. We may not be able to regain our form in the mortal plane but we can send emissaries in our place."
"That may be so, sister," Lachesis said with a hint of dismay. "But our mortal supporters have long since passed from that place to the Peaceful Realm. I don't think there's any other way apart from summoning a mortal here, Clotho, in order to protect humanity."
"Is that our last option, Atropos?" Clotho asked, a pleading look at her sister. "Please say that we have another option…"
Before Atropos even said it, all three of the sisters knew the answer in their hearts. There was no ensured way of survival, except surrender to the bloodthirsty ravagers of the Daemon Legionnaire. They were the last three members of the Angelic Alliance, a pact that was signed and sealed with a blood oath between the humans and the holy spirits.
Atropos lowered her onyx head and remained silent.
"Has your mind made up yet, Ilian Knight?" Horror inquired once again in that dark room within the estate of the Sunfire clan. "There is no escape for you, not even if the entire Church decides to come out in full force to attempt to banish me from this dimension."
Horror moved closer to Fiora, who was nude from the waist up. The straps of her dress had been sliced apart earlier by the thin but strong blade of Mark's saber. Feeling the hot breath of a demon possessing a man upon her, Fiora squirmed slightly. Horror, while smiling like a hunter with a prize animal in his sights, placed his hand on the Falcon Knight's right cheek. She shivered at his clammy hand's touch. To Fiora, it was similar to a corpse's touch. Shutting her eyes, Fiora continued to try to block Horror touching her from her senses.
They were still locked in a dark room in the mansion of Mark's ancestral estate. Time was lost to Fiora, as there weren't any windows. She assumed that this room was possibly in the lower levels, perhaps a cellar of sorts where it had remained unused for unknown ages. Cobwebs were abundant in this room and Fiora's aversion to spiders had awoken from its dormancy. Cold sweat drenched her dress, the bottom half to be more accurate, and the dankness of the air was making her feel chilled.
Fiora could easily challenge Horror to single combat to settle this but she was bound tightly to a wooden chair. To top it all, Horror wasn't just possessing some random fellow's body to further his machinations. In fact, Horror is possessing Mark of Etruria, the Tactician who had been a member of a certain cadre of heroes who had averted the world from an early cataclysm.
"Try as you may, Knight of Ilia, but I will succeed in obtaining what my brother and I seek. You know well of the legends that surround our creation, correct?" Horror asked as he slid Mark's hand slowly down Fiora's cheek. The pale and clammy hand halted at her jawbone, tracing the fine edges of her unscathed face.
"Y-y-yes," Fiora whispered weakly, reminiscent of her youngest sister. "There's plenty enough about you two that I don't want to know about." Smiling, Horror continued to slowly move Mark's hand closer and closer to one of the sacred parts of a woman.
"As I was saying, Ilian Knight," the Horror within Mark continued in a supposed silky tone. "My brother and I seek a vessel in which we both can command and occupy without fear from the Church. We have done this before in the long ancient past, albeit for a brief period. We prefer newborn children, who have no set mind pattern, which we must follow. With no set pattern, we can choose a new path of destiny for our vessel." Horror then caressed one of Fiora's breasts, causing the lady to intake a sudden breath.
"Then why?" Fiora said breathlessly. "Why do you hold me here? I have no purpose in your schemes." She gave a quiet squeak as Horror bent Mark's head to suck on one of her nipples. She shivered, her eyes scrunched up to block out the odd sensations her mind perceived.
Horror paused briefly. Tapping his chin for a moment, the demon within smiled and gently stroked several blue strands of hair from Fiora's face. The Falcon Knight cringed from the grazing touch, paling slightly as the demon continued to indulge in stroking Fiora's skin, particularly near her breasts.
"If I were to suggest a deal in exchange for the only treasure you currently possess at the moment for something you would desire, would you do so?" Horror leered as his fingers worked. "Give me your physical virginity and in exchange my brother and I will gladly leave."
"Y-you swear it?" Fiora called out both hesitantly and breathlessly. She shut her eyes as a wave of pleasure struck her body like a stone before continuing weakly. "You swear to bring him back?"
"Him who?" Horror smiled as Fiora gave an audible gasp.
Fiora had never experienced these sensations before in her life. She had heard from her mother once of what naturally happens to growing ladies but most of the hormonal rages during her youth had been mild and never rampant. Always in her mind were the presence of piety and purity. Never had she imagined in the remotest sense of her and a man alone and unattended. That voice of reason within her subconscious has always kept her honor intact, both physically and mentally. But once those hands of the possessed noble and Tactician were roaming across her body, that voice of reason was quickly replaced by one of want and desire.
But now, like a dormant volcano, these feelings were finally awakening. In trying to block out whatever sensation of pleasure from her mind, Fiora had inadvertently rolled her head onto one shoulder. Horror, taking this as a sign that she wanted more, quickly placed his right forefinger and thumb on Fiora's left nipple. Squeezing and rotating the hardened nipple, Horror was pleased to see Fiora arch her back and let out a soft moan. He continued in this vein, finally breaking Fiora's mental resistance against pleasure. She let out a scream; one that was filled with joys and raptures that had never been in her before. Smiling at having succeeded in releasing her from restraint, Horror stopped.
"Yes… just please," Fiora called out in a breathless and ecstatic manner. "More… more!"
With a smile on his face, the hands of the Tactician and the mind of a demon continued its work.