A/N: Hey! Long time no see, huh? Hehehehe. ::Glances around cautiously:: Please don't hurt me! I know it's been a while since my last posting and I'm REALLY sorry about that. -.- It was a lethal combination of Writer's Block, Senior Chaos, and Manga Addiction. The result: I've been pretty much comatose in my room for the last seven weeks. But NO MORE! I am back and I'm back with a vengeance!! I hope.
On the plus side, though, I made these chapters really long!
And so, without any further procrastination, I give you:
******************************Chapter Nine*******************************
*I don't like this,* Kaelin growled quietly, careful not to disturb Tori. *She doesn't care enough about her body. She's going to end up seriously hurting herself one day.*
Daemonar straightened up and looked down at the Warlord. *You know something.* He stated, crossing his arms. *Something else that makes you this agitated.*
Kaelin looked from Tori's sleeping form on the bed to Daemonar, then shook his massive head. *I gave my word not to tell anyone but Jaenelle about…the things I discover about her past.*
Daemonar looked down at the sleeping form, scowling absently as he thought. He glanced back over to Kaelin. The Arcerian could see him working out a little bit of the answer. Remembering the rage-filled cry from before. Seeing her defensive nature as just that. A defense.
"It's bad." He stated, not questioning the Kindred. His stomach twisted violently and he looked at the Warlord with a muted plea. "But not that bad?"
Kaelin looked away, walking around to the other side of the bed and jumping carefully up beside his chosen Human. The longer he stayed silent, the more Daemonar's vision blurred with rage. It hummed around him, burning the air with its heat. His wings opened, spreading to enlarge his appearance. Drums sounded in his ears and his golden eyes took on a murky red-orange tint. He couldn't hear the low growls coming from him as he became lost in blood rage.
On the bed, Tori stirred in her exhausted sleep, feeling Daemonar slipping to the killing edge. She drifted closer to consciousness, delicately reaching out to see what could make him so furious. She didn't even need to brush against his mind, since he thought there was only Kaelin with him in the room. What she felt brought her eyes open with a snap, her dark eyes guarded and wary.
*You swore, Kaelin,* Tori sent coldly to the cat on a private thread.
*The males of this court have spent plenty of time with broken Queens after the Purge,* Kaelin stated calmly. *I didn't need to tell him a thing. Daemonar is not a fool.*
Tori looked up at the Eyrien, still too weak to move. *I never said he was. And I'm not broken!*
Kaelin sifted through the assortment of emotions not quite kept out of her sending. Anger, which was a given with talking about something so very personal to her. Fear that they would regard her as some kind of invalid because of this. But it was the uncertainty that struck him the hardest. She wasn't quite sure that she was telling the truth. She knew that she was able to do more than Basic Craft, but in all other aspects, she didn't believe that she wasn't shattered beyond repair.
Luckily, Kaelin didn't have to respond to this as Daemonar seemed to grasp control over his wayward emotions and push away the mounting anger enough to notice that Tori no longer slept. He looked down at the emaciated young Queen silently, nothing showing on his face.
"It's about time," Tori snapped hoarsely. "If you are going to go off like that for no reason, do somewhere else. You are, after all, the one who gripped at me about getting some rest."
"No reason?" He rasped, trying to mask his growing need to kill. "I'd say that this was more than enough reason." Daemonar paused long enough to gather his control on a tighter leash. "How?"
Tori gave him a bland look. "You're asking how I was raped?" She asked incredulously. "And here I thought you males were so informed about-"
"How did you hide your scent!?!" Daemonar growled, his Jewel flashing as his temper rose back to the killing edge. "You were drained! You can't even stand, much less hold a psychic shield in place!"
Daemonar growled low in his throat, his eyes flashing golden fire. Tori watched him, her face just as devoid of expression as his. But, in the end, it was she who had to look away, unable to bare the knowledge that glowed just behind the anger.
"You should leave now," Tori said with as much thunder in her voice as possible.
Daemonar bared his teeth in a smile. "Not going to happen," he growled. "I am not leaving until you have answered my question. How are you able to keep this…this shield around you?!"
"I don't know, alright!" Tori managed to growl, despite what it cost her. She swallowed heavily and continued in a more controlled voice. "All I know is, when it…first happened, something in my scent changed. Something that drove…the man who raped me almost insane with lust. Talia noticed it too, and so we worked out a shield that would mask it. But it always fell apart when I got too exhausted to keep it up."
"And so you did something," Daemonar prodded with a growl when she fell silent.
"You must know," Tori warned him, "that everything I learned and did, was purely on instinct and trial and error. I could sense the bottom of my Ebon-gray Jewel. The very furthest I could go at that time. One night, when there were a lot of males over, I linked the shield to the very bottom of the uncut Gray. That way, in order for the shield to fall now, you had to shatter the Jewel first."
Daemaonar clutched the nightstand by the bed, looking deathly pale. Kaelin crouched down on the floor, whimpering softly. Tori frowned at the two males' behavior, confused. Regardless, she was tired, and didn't want to deal with any more of Daemonar's snarly comments and invasive questions.
"Now that you know," she said coldly, "you can leave."
Daemonar grinned with a bit of feral intensity, and slid into the chair next to the bed. "I don't think I'm going to be going anywhere." He purred.
Tori tensed, instantly pulling into herself, preparing for a fight. Beside her, Kaelin rumbled in annoyance.
*You think to much of battle,* he admonished, moving to lay his head down gently on her stomach. *Has not Daemonar proven himself yet?*
Tori looked away from the two males uncomfortably. Reluctantly, she took as deep a breath as she could manage, let it out, and stared up at the winged man expectantly.
"I would not be a very good Healer if I left you while you recovered," Daemonar continued with malicious glee.
Tori stared at him for a long moment before cold slammed around the room in freezing waves. A darkness filled her eyes as she looked at him, cold and calculating as it waged how she could kill him in her present condition.
"No," she said softly, her words slashing at him like ice-sculpted knives. "Get. Out."
Daemonar crossed his arms over his chest in the now familiar stance that told Tori she was in for a long fight. "I am a qualified Healer. Jaenelle herself qualified me."
"I refuse," Tori said, struggling weakly against Kaelin to sit up. "Bring Talia in as a Healer. It is either her, or, weak or not, I'll wrap you so far in your own shadows, that you'll beg for madness."
"Talia will not be your Healer," Daemonar growled, his fists clenching. "Jaenelle wants me to watch over you, and the best way to do that is become your Healer. You had best just lie back and deal with it."
Tori managed to push Kaelin away and stand beside the bed in one lighting-quick movement, fury giving her strength. "Or what, Daemonar," she purred with a malevolent smile. She glanced down at his clenched fists significantly. "You'll make me?"
"Don't be a fool," Daemonar hissed. "We don't hit women here."
Tori narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not being a fool, Daemonar. I'm being a realist. Men like the power of dominance. They reach that power through rape and physical and mental beatings."
Daemonar's anger seemed to instantly disappear at this, and his eyes grew large for a moment. Then he quickly stepped up to her, his hands going up to grab her arms in a tight, but gentle grasp.
"You don't believe that!" Daemonar growled deeply, his eyes burning with denial as he stared deeply into her jaded black ones, trying to force his words into her mind.
Tori winced as his hand closed over her still-open wound, just realizing that she had forgotten to dress it. Blood flowed freely from the re-opened wound. She had expected Daemonar to react in denial. From what she had observed from males so far, it was a given reaction to what she had said. What she hadn't expected was the desperation behind his words, as if he needed her to believe that she didn't really mean it.
*I smell blood,* Kaelin said abruptly, standing on the bed and looking sharply at Tori.
Daemonar looked more sharply at Tori. "Are you hurt?" He asked gruffly, loosening his grip a little.
Tori gave him a bland look. "Other than the obvious, you mean?"
Daemonar gave her a warning growl. "Yes. Were you cut in the battle?"
Tori shrugged carelessly as she allowed Daemonar to help her back to her bed. "It's not deep," she replied, yawning. Now that she didn't have the fury-fueled adrenaline, she was dead tired. "I'll get it when I wake up."
"Where is it?" Daemonar demanded. "You can rest while I wrap it."
Tori's mind was already growing fuzzy, and it was getting hard to focus on the question. Still, she had enough of her mind left to scowl at him, refusing him.
"Why are you making this so difficult!?" Daemonar choked out, as if he had wanted to scream, but was restraining himself.
"Can't let you see…" Tori murmured, not really aware of what she said, as sleep sucked her away. "Too…hideous…can't…"
Daemonar's scowl eased into one of pained exasperation. "Tori…Let me help you. Please."
Kaelin rose from his spot beside Tori and moved towards the door. He didn't need to be told that this was a private moment between them. And maybe, Daemonar would be able to help Tori piece back together her shattered heart.
~*~*~
Tori blinked hard, pushing away sleep for another moment. Had the arrogant male before her actually say 'please'?
"Promise…" She whispered. "Say nothing."
Daemonar nodded instantly. "It stays between us."
Tori twisted her lips in a wry smile. "It seems that everyone knows now. First Jaenelle. Then Kaelin. Saetan. You…"
Daemonar looked down at her, then at her arm, noticing the blood seeping through. He reached for her arm, but hesitated to remove her coat, still waiting for her final answer.
Tori sighed, her eyes falling shut. "Alright, Healer."
He felt some of the tightness in shoulders leave at her acceptance. He also knew that she expected complete confidentiality in whatever he saw. Getting directly to work, Daemonar slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her up from the bed, and used his free hand to slide off the coat and drop it negligently on the floor.
For a moment, cold whispered through the room as he gently removed the tattered remains of her shirt and finally saw what had made Kaelin cry out that night. Blood trickled down her arm and over her shoulder, highlighting a scar that ran from the top of her left breast and disappeared behind her shoulder. It ran in jagged lines, and with the way it had healed, he would say a knife, or sharp piece of metal.
Daemoanr called in a bowl of water and the things he would need to bandage her arm. Quickly, efficiently, he washed clean the wound and smeared a healing salve on before wrapping it tightly.
When he was finished, he looked down at her body, counting the scars he saw, and what looked as if to cause them. He counted fourteen.
There was one that ran diagonally across her stomach, thick and wide at one end and thinning out towards the bottom. He swallowed thickly, knowing that it might have pierced critical organs. There was another on her right hipbone that was smooth and light in comparison, like she had just caught the edge of something instead of a full blow.
Looking up at her face, Daemonar reached out with his mind, brushing hers to see how deeply she slept. When he found her deep within her own mind, he lifted the top part of her body, turning her over on her back. He set her down, his world twisting violently, making him grab onto the chair that rested beside the bed for support.
Daemonar gathered his courage and straightened, looking back at the patterns Tori displayed across her back. They seemed to be healing still, and he had the suspicion that the Arcerian was behind it. Still, no matter what the cat did, she would always have them.
Most of them, Daemonar counted twenty-seven, were obviously made from a whip. He remembered his Uncle Daemon's tales of his days as a whore and slave. When Jaenelle was well out of earshot, of course. Thinking back on that, he remembered Daemon saying something about layers of scars. Until now, looking down on Tori's back, he hadn't quite grasped what he had meant by that.
There were others, not made by a whip. Strangely formed, but obviously very painful. There was a burn scar on the bottom right of her back that dipped down into her pants.
Daemonar reached out, trailing one finger lightly along a random white line, made even more white and vivid with her body as thin as it was. He was surprised when Tori moved, murmuring sleepily and sighing, slipping back into the deep rest.
Daemonar rolled her back over and, not finding a shirt of hers in the immediate vicinity, called in one of his and slipped it on her before tucking her back under the covers. Finished, he pulled the chair close beside the head of the bed, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Half sleeping, so if Tori woke he would sense it, Daemonar brooded.
~*~*~
The sun, reflected through the glass doors of her balcony, hit Tori's closed eyes, pulling her firmly from her sleep. Yawning, she sat up, letting the covers fall away from her. For a moment, she wondered why she felt like she hadn't eaten in a month and why she felt so damnably weak.
Then her attention was caught by the slumbering Eyrien and she paled. Memory came rushing back, and with that the realization that the shirt she was wearing wasn't hers.
Firmly squashing the panic, Tori reminded herself that Jaenelle qualified him as a Healer. As such, he had probably seen worse than a cut arm. Stretching a little, she went about the task of getting up, intent of filling the empty cavern called her stomach.
"What are you doing up?" Daemonar asked, his eyes still closed as she moved to leave the bed.
"I'm going to get some breakfast," Tori said. "I'm starved."
Daemonar smiled a little, opening his eyes to look at her. "Breakfast was three hours ago." He stood stiffly. "I'll go get you something from the kitchens. Mrs. Beale, I'm sure, has set aside enough to fill you."
Tori nodded shortly, far from pleased, but relaxed, letting the headboard support her back as she waited for him to return. Taking a deep breath, she went over her body, trying to determine how bad off she was now that she had rested. After a few minutes, she smirked contentedly. All she needed was a good meal, or two, and another quick nap. Then she would be well enough to get on with stopping the war. Stopping the man who called himself her father.
Daemonar came in a second later, his arms laden with piles of food. Tori stared up at him, wide-eyed. That was a lot of food. Then she got a glimpse of what was there and scowled fiercely at him.
"Bread?" She said skeptically. "Soaked in broth? Soup? What is this?"
"You burned too much energy when you used up your Jewels," Daemonar explained patiently, setting the platter in front of her. "You need to eat soft, liquid foods for a while. Then you can start on the solids. Otherwise, you'll only make yourself sick."
Tori grumbled under her breath, but choked down the broth. She remembered all too well what happened when you started your body off with hard foods. So, even if the bread did seem about as appetizing as a wooden leg, she inhaled it all, handing the empty bowls back to Daemonar.
"May I now have some real food?" Tori asked with exaggerated patience.
Daemonar blinked, setting the three empty bowls on the tray. "You're still hungry?"
Tori gave him a long, scathing glare. "Yes."
"Okay…" He said faintly, holding out his hand to her. "You should be well enough to make it downstairs."
"So glad you agree," Tori growled, and swung herself out of bed.
Regardless of how she felt in the room, by the time they made it to the abandoned dinning room, Tori was pale and shaky once again. Catching Daemonar's worried glance, she frowned at him, daring him to ask the question that seemed to hover on the edge of his tongue. The Warlord Prince wordlessly helped her into a chair and brought in plates and bowls of 'real' food.
Thirty minutes, two bowls of Mrs. Beale's rabbit soup, one loaf of bread, one plate of assorted fruits, five cups of cool tea, and a few bites of the meatloaf when Daemonar wasn't looking, later she sat back with a sigh of the well-fed. Daemonar looked from her, to the empty plates, and back slowly.
"Are you…finished?" He asked hopefully.
Tori nodded, yawning a little. "I'm stuffed. Another nap, and I'll be back to normal."
Daemonar didn't even bother arguing with that as he followed her back up to the room silently. He politely waited outside as she changed and slipped into bed, then came in and took up his post beside her once more. Still tired, he soon found himself nodding off.
Once again, Tori woke up and looked over to see Daemonar asleep in the chair. The sense of deja vu hit her, and she smiled slightly. Stretching leisurely, Tori glanced out the balcony doors, seeing the early morning sun. She had slept almost an entire day.
"You're not hungry again, are you?" Daemonar asked her as she got up from the bed.
Tori considered this, looking down at her arms to see if she was still skin and bones. Fortunately, she seemed to have filled out mostly, though she was still a few pounds lighter than before.
"A little," she allowed, flashing him a grin. "Don't worry, I wont eat nearly as much as last time."
Daemonar looked relieved. "Good. Mrs. Beale said that she wouldn't be able to feed you like that again until next week."
Tori laughed a little, calling in her trunk and pulling out a change of clothes. "I can't wait to get some meats," she said, starting for the bathroom to shower and change. "Steak, maybe. And roast."
Daemonar chuckled, but was cut off as the door flew open with a sharp bang. Tori spun on her heel, her pile of clothes in one hand, and stared at Lucia in surprise. However, it was the other woman who seemed to be in the greater state of shock.
Lucia looked from Tori, who was in one of Daemonar's large, rumpled shirts and the pants from yesterday, holding a change of clothes, to Daemonar, who was lounging comfortably in a chair beside the bed, his clothes, usually immaculately tailored, wrinkled and messed up, to the bed itself, which was stained with a bit of blood. Her eyes grew very wide at that.
"I-I'm sorry," Lucia stuttered, backing out of the room. "I didn't…I thought…"
Tori scowled at Lucia's odd behavior. "What are you talking about, Lucia? And I assume there was a reason for you barging in here without knocking."
Lucia turned a distinct shade of pink as she pulled her eyes from the bed, unable to meet Tori or Daemonar's eyes directly. Instead she settled on the carpet between them.
"I-uh…that is…um…Talia, she has been getting wound up about not being able to come up here and see you…And so Jaenelle, uh, sent me up here to get you if you were…recovered, and bring you…down to Saetan's study."
Tori glanced at Daemonar, who only looked back, equally puzzled. He glanced at the bed, trying to figure out what-
"You don't think-!" Daemonar sputtered, jumping up suddenly, his face turning a curious shade of red. "Lucia, Tori and I…We never…"
"What is going on here?" Tori demanded, pinning Daemonar with a hard glare. "You and I never what?"
Daemonar turned a bit more red. "Lucia thinks that I preformed the Virgin Night with you," he muttered.
"That's impossible," Tori stated flatly. "Why would she think that?"
The red faded a bit from their faces. Lucia came in and shut the door, realizing that anyone passing could hear their conversation.
Daemonar gave her a bland look. "You do know that when women…have sex for the first time, they bleed a little, right? And there's blood on the bed. Not to mention you're in one of my shirts."
"The blood is from my arm," Tori stated, confused. "Although, I can't really say anything about the shirt, since I was asleep. Besides, even if we had wanted to, I was far too weak last night. I wouldn't have survived the…act."
Lucia nodded. "I knew that, it's just, it caught me off guard. I mean, I knew you were going to have to get through it somehow in order to make the Offering."
Tori nodded, distractedly, thinking. "Yes. I do need to talk to Jaenelle about arranging the Offering sometime today," she murmured.
"You had better change the sheets," Lucia continued, "before one of the guys come in and jump to the same conclusions. Who knows what would happen then?"
Tori frowned, even more confused now than ever. "I don't understand. There seem to be tons of couples here. Shouldn't they be used to seeing the sheets stained?"
Daemonar froze in the act of gathering up the blankets. Slowly he and Lucia turned to look at her, their faces carefully blank. With a sigh, Tori picked her feet up, tucked them under her, and hovered in the air absently. She had somehow said something wrong, she determined.
"What makes you say that?" Daemonar asked cautiously.
Tori frowned at him. "Women bleed every time they have sex." She paused, taking in their shocked expressions, then added uncertainly, "Don't they?"
Lucia shook her head, her eyes wide. "Where did you hear that?"
"I didn't hear it," Tori said. "In my experience, from what I've seen of other women, that's the only constant I saw with them."
"In your…personal experience?" Daemonar asked softly.
Tori looked at him, her mask perfectly shielding her emotions. "Need I answer that?"
Lucia looked sharply at Tori. "You were raped?" She demanded, outraged. "When? Who?" She added with deadly heat. She sent a sharp probe to touch Tori's mind, and her eyes narrowed further. "And why can't I sense anything?"
"No one of importance," Tori sighed. "And I created a shield that links directly to my Jewel, so that no matter how much I've exhausted my jewel strength, it wouldn't fade." She shook her head, clearing away her thoughts and dismissing Lucia's questions that seemed to come with that particular statement. "I need to get dressed. You did say that Talia was getting upset." When Lucia looked as if she was going to argue, Tori became frustrated. "Lucia. Why don't you and Daemonar meet me in the High Lord's study." Not so much a request as a thinly veiled command.
Lucia nodded and the two of them headed for the door. Tori paused as she reached for the bathroom door once again and turned back to them.
"Oh, and Lucia," Tori called. She waited until the woman stuck her head back in the door. "Gather Lucifer, Prothivar, and the others as well. I don't want to make this speech more than once."
Lucia frowned. "What speech?"
"It's past time that I cleared up a few things, don't you think?" Tori sighed heavily.
"Oh. Okay." And Lucia disappeared.
Swallowing nervously, Tori hurried through her routine of getting dressed and was out the door and heading for the study in under an hour. This was it, she thought, stuffing her hands deep inside a new coat. This was where she pulled out all the horrors of her past that she had vowed to keep hidden for the rest of her life. And then some.
Beneath the coat, Tori shifted uncomfortably. The clothes she had chosen for this meeting were deliberately revealing, but it still bothered her. She wore a long black skirt that had slits up both sides that ended at the mid-thigh, showing off the lines of pale skin that ran over her legs. Her shirt was a black mid-drift tank top, worn only to display the scars across her stomach, lower back, and upper back.
She paused outside the study door took a deep breath, and straightened her back, tilting her head up. Tori had survived nearly her entire life with a sexual sadist, and she was not about to hunch over and be intimidated by a bunch of males. She knocked sharply, and then waited silently for Saetan to call her in.
The door slid open quietly and Tori walked in confidently. Her confidence stuttered to a halt when she took five steps inside and was met with seventeen pairs of eyes. On the right, by Saetan's large desk, sat the man himself, Jaenelle, Lyra, Talia, Daemon, and Lucivar. On the left, occupying the chairs, and the other, smaller, desk was Lucia and Lucifer, Daemonar, Narla, Kalush, Arahn, Prothivar, and Sathe and Rine. Kaelin sat in the middle with a smaller, dog-like Kindred who introduced himself as Lavariar, Talia's Kindred-appointed protector. And a very large Arcerian cat who called himself Kaelas and another smaller dog named Ladvarian.
Noticing the one chair left open that sat closest to the door and, incidentally, in between the two parties, Tori went to stand by it, not yet sitting down. Kaelin and the other Kindred rose and went to stand by their self-appointed Humans. For just a brief second, Kaelin leaned against her leg, offering her silent support and encouragement.
Tori was silent for a moment, searching for something to say to start this off, and her eyes fell on Talia, standing beside her mother.
"You're going to want to sit down for this, Talia," Tori said carefully. She looked at everyone standing. "You all will."
Seeing how tense Tori was, Talia paled, understanding the implications of the skirt she could see, and hurried over to her, calling in a chair to sit down in. Glancing worriedly at each other, the others complied. Tori waited, and only when everyone was sitting down, did she reach to remove her coat. Talia reached up, gabbing her wrist tightly.
"Do you think this is a good idea?" Talia whispered. "I mean, they don't have to know about…Do they?" She pleaded hopefully.
Tori took a long, deep breath. "Yes." She said firmly. "They must know. No more secrets, Li. Not now."
Talia leaned back, looking deeply troubled. Tori, certain there wouldn't be any more interruptions from her, grabbed the coat and shucked it off in one smooth motion. The room was instantly coated in ice from the eleven males, and Tori used the cold to help steady her.
"Eleven years ago," Tori began speaking without emotion, finally taking her seat, "my mother sent me and my baby sister Talia to live with our father in a completely different dimension. His name was Eric Vladd Craftman." Tori closed her eyes briefly before looking back into the crowd. "And for ten years and eleven months, I was beaten, tortured…and raped by this man."
The room exploded.
Stunned, Tori sat back and watched as Lucia, Lyra, and Jaenelle tried to calm the human males and Kaelin grimly calmed the three Kindred. She glanced over at Talia, her eyes widening a little to show her amazement. Talia nodded back, equally shocked. Unfortunately, Lyra didn't take it as well as the other women. She shook her head violently, tears welling in her eyes.
"No," she cried. "I don't believe you! Eric would never…he just couldn't. You're lying!"
"Lying?" Tori asked softly, cold slipping through her bones as she rose from her chair. "Yes, of course you would believe that. After all, you bedded that sadist!"
Lyra was still shaking her head desperately. "No. You're just being melodramatic. Making up things to gain sympathy for this…cold thing you've become! I would have sensed it in you. I would have known! I don't believe you!"
"Don't." Talia said, her own cold fury slipping through the room as she glided predatorily towards her mother. "Don't you dare call her that. You don't know what happened. You weren't there!" Tears now slid down Talia's cheeks. "She did this, became cold, for me! To protect me! I don't care if you lie to yourself, Mother, but don't you ever criticize what you don't know!"
Tori sighed, and lifted one arm to her sister. Immediately, Talia came back to her, making no sound as she cried. Tori remained standing, looking impassively at Lyra, letting nothing show. The woman looked, for lack of a better word, shell-shocked. Slowly she sat back down, gazing sightlessly at Talia.
"As I was saying," Tori continued, her voice still devoid of feeling. "About a month ago, Eric went too far. You see, he and I had made an agreement. He didn't touch Talia, and I didn't rise against him and destroy him utterly. I had agreed, because at the time, he wore the Black and I didn't know enough about Craft to beat him. One night, he got particularly drunk and, after finishing with me, turned on Talia. He hit her only once."
Talia sniffed, and pulled back from Tori to return to her seat. Tori remained standing, looking out at the faces of the First Circle.
"Recently, I had learned an attack called Witchlightening. I don't suppose any of you have heard of it?" She asked, tilting her head slightly. Everyone shook their heads in the negative. Tori turned to Talia. "Would you mind calling in your globe, Talia? I…sort of used all of mine."
Talia's eyes widened. "All of it, Tori? But…you had tons." When Tori only shrugged, she sighed. "Alright. Here." And handed her the ball.
Tori turned back to the group and used Craft to move the ball until it stood in the center of the room. "This is Witchlightening. It's not very hard to make, and nothing can stop it. I don't even think Twilight's Dawn could," Tori added as an afterthought.
Saetan had turned very pale. "H-How is that…possible?"
Tori shrugged. "Don't know. All I know is, when I used the 'lightening, it hit Eric's Black, and shattered the Jewel, his mind, and tore apart his body in under a second. Then he died."
Jaenelle was staring at the globe curiously. She glanced up at Talia. "May I?"
Talia nodded. "Sure. But…I'd be careful. It's sort of temperamental."
Jaenelle called the ball of lightening over to her, examining it closely and frowning as she thought. After a moment, she reached up, touching the globe, and sucked in a surprised breath.
"Where did you say you found how to do this?" Jaenelle asked in a strangled voice.
Tori shrugged. "Well, I didn't actually find that particular thing in a Craft book. I was reading through one of the Basic Craft books, where it talked about drawing on your Jewel's power, and I started thinking a little bit beyond that and…this came up."
Saetan clutched his head and whimpered something that sounded like, "Mother Night."
The other boyos weren't in much better shape. The only ones who didn't look too upset were the witches, and Tori figured that was because they were sensible witches and not prone to hysterics. Unlike the males.
"Does this mean I should make the males leave before I get started on Blood Webs?" Tori asked Jaenelle dryly.
Saetan whimpered again. "Dare I ask?"
Tori called in a small black-wood box and opened it without a word. Looking in there, she made an absent note to Craft more. Only one blood web and one Gray web remained. She lifted both out.
"This," Tori said, holding up the Ebon-Gray web between her thumb and forefinger, "is a Jeweled web. You, obviously, use your Jewel power as thread and Craft this. When you make it, you can Craft it one of two ways: attack or protection. If you Craft it as an attack, when you throw it at an enemy with a lighter Jewel rank, it will wrap around them and burn itself into their flesh, and continue burning until the body is in pieces. Protection, on the other hand, is primarily to defend the person it is thrown to. It, too, wraps around the body, but instead of burning them, it creates a shield over the body. Again, only a darker Jewel could shatter it. And, actually, I believe there is a way to Craft a protection web that would bind it to a person's life where it would activate if their life is threatened and it would not only protect them, but tap into the Winds, and bring them back to a designated place…"
Jaenelle's eyes brightened. "I get it! The web could act like a Coach in bringing them back here on the Winds! That way, not only are they safe, but can get immediate attention for their wounds."
"And the Blood Webs?" Daemon asked in a strangled voice.
Tori put the Gray web back in the box and held up the dark red one. You Craft it just like the Jeweled ones, but instead of your jewel, you use blood. It's more effective in protecting blood-related family and does much more damage to the ones that aren't family."
Tori was silent as she let them all absorb what she had said. Jaenelle looked to be the only one who was actually considering the value of Tori's little toys during battle. In fact, if Tori wasn't mistaking the gleam in her eyes, Witch was taking the information a step beyond what Tori knew.
"There was a more pressing reason to my trip down memory lane," Tori said after five minutes.
"You mean there's more?" Daemon asked plaintively.
Tori nodded somberly. "Have you told them, Jaenelle?"
"I've explained about the Darkness," Jaenelle said. "But I'll start from the beginning.
"When Kaeleer went to war with Little Terrielle," She began, "you all know how much power I used in that final battle. There were long-term repercussions that I hadn't thought about. Somehow, Twilight's Dawn…scrambled the Winds. It mixed the roads through the Darkness, and created Shadows where there weren't supposed to be. These Shadows act as a portal of sorts between Kaeleer and the Darkness, allowing the dead to come though."
"I still don't understand how the dead are there in the first place," Lucivar grumbled. "When you return to the Darkness, you are supposed to fade out completely. Nothing is left of you. Not your body, not your mind."
Jaenelle nodded in agreement. "That is how it was supposed to be," she admitted. "But in the battle, power swept through the Shadows and into the Darkness. The dead regained their bodies and a small glimmer of their Selves. Regardless, they would have died again and faded back into Darkness had something else not happened."
Tori picked up when Jaenelle paused. "When I destroyed Eric, I sent him directly to the Darkness. Because of that, he never became demon dead, never slowly tired his supply of Black out, and never became weak." She paused, turning slightly to Talia. "When I sent him to the Darkness, he took control over the newly awakened dead, twisted them under his control, and became General, the leader."
Talia's face turned a frightening shade of pasty white. "Y-You mean…he's coming back?" She whispered fearfully.
Tori closed her eyes. "Yes. And soon, he will find us. I don't doubt that he has become stronger." She opened her eyes and looked at Jaenelle. "Which is why I am going to need to make the Offering as soon as possible, Jaenelle."
"Absolutely not!" Daemonar growled. "The Offering is taxing at best! And with you not even fully recovered, going in to reach Ebony, it's going to be even worse!"
"I'd live," Tori told him calmly.
"At what price?!" Daemonar countered. "If you could wait two more days…"
"You don't get it!" Tori yelled, finally loosing her grip on her temper. "We don't have two days! He is coming soon! Tonight, tomorrow at the latest! And he won't…be… alone! He'll have millions, if not billions, of enslaved dead backing him up!"
"Then we stop him," Daemonar said, unperturbed by her outburst. "We aren't exactly helpless, you know."
Tori stood there shaking from exhaustion, the meeting having taxed her energy. "No, Daemonar." She said tiredly. "You won't face him. He's created his army for revenge. It will be me who faces off with him in the end. And there is nothing you can do to prevent it."
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A/N: Whew! Now that that's all straightened out…ON TO THE NEXT CHAPTER with yet MORE explanations!! Hehehe don't you just LOVE me? ::grins hopefully:: No? Awww…….well, next chapter, you'll probably like me even less! Ta ta!!
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