§
Maybe heartache did kill her at long last. After this timeless eternity, perhaps the hole deep within herself had finally won out, claiming her life. After all, there stood the gray gates with their abstract spires and lapping, colorless waters. Her dull eyes looked at them, begging silently for entrance. They remained shut, mocking her in a way.
"You are the one who has once defied me." The voice was lacking in so many qualities: pitch, tone, gender, age, emotion.
But Ally was too gone to worry, to fear or even question the ethereal quality of the speaker. Her entire soul was torn, falling into so much pain it was sickening. When she didn't answer, a dark shape began to materialize before her. At first it was nothing but an aura she refused to identify, and then slowly formed into a slender, tall woman with alabaster skin and coal-colored hair framing a contrasting, unique beauty. Bright hazel gleamed forth from the translucent skin. The figure blinked once, taking in her appearance.
"This is the body you have given unto me." It was the same voice—lacking in emotion and humanity, but this time it was smooth as venomous silk and equally as ominous.
If the young woman noticed the suddenly appearing creature, she gave no sign. However the new persona hardly seemed deterred by her less than vibrant state.
"By mortal standings, I am Death. Your mind has conjured up a subconscious image of me so I may speak with you."
The broken girl wouldn't even tilt her head up.
"You have lost much to Life, creature. Your mortality was robbed and immortal blood rushes through your veins, bought with agony. You died once and were brought back. And now your soul has cracked, and you have nothing left."
It would have been a strange sight for anyone to see. Two people colored in gray waters, identical in features and stature.
"But I can end the pain."
At this, the immortal looked up, glazed amber eyes not at all startled by her own reflection.
"How?" Her voice was cracked, parched for life and happiness. For him.
"No one can die twice, that is the reasoning behind immortality. Though I can take your body and give it power. I can seal your soul back up by burning it down. I can remove the blood from your heart."
"What do you want in return?" She had been a victim too long to not remember the game.
Death smiled a little, or more rightly smirked. "You will go back to life as a new creature, with no remnants of this one. You will become my tool, my hand in your revenge upon Life."
The hollow eyes glimmered with a hybrid between madness, desperation, and recklessness. She was a girl-woman who recalled love from only one source. He had been her sun which she revolved around, the only thing she knew. And then the sun had been removed, leaving a girl-woman in darkness of guilt, rage, and helpless sorrow. The child in her was still doubting, still dreaming of Blayne. The woman was still a part of him. Forever. There was nothing left to give, nothing to loose.
"Do it."
But nothing to gain either.
§
The flames that had killed her spirit brought it back. They burnt through her flesh and blood, melted her core down to nothing but ashes. And then they brought it back, easing it in with wild power, dangerous beauty. And a phoenix was born.
"You are my Aduru Eposis... my fire bird."
§
Her first act in a new life was to save Daemon. The little brother was curled in his wolf-body, shivering pitifully as it shifted in and out with a human spirit. She bent down, touching the translucent fur and noticing that her skin had darkened. As her power transferred over to the boy, his wolf body disappeared completely and one with deep scarlet plumage and a goldenrod beak appeared. The child's mysteriously pale blue eyes shone brightly against it.
Daemon blinked, gazing up at her strangely.
"Who are you?" The voice was musical and lower, but still his.
"I don't know." The immortal replied calmly, barely registering the change in her own vocal cords. They were seductive, flaring.
However the now phoenix-child kept looking at the new figure towering over him, the golden irises, though not resembling human, brought some source of forgotten familiarity to his memory. The long, twisting locks of fire-hued hair ranging from platinum sheets to darker than his plumage red; fell across his, framing an erotically beautiful face with a known bone structure...
"Ally—you're Ally!" The blue-eyed creature suddenly hopped up, wobbling as he adjusted to the sensation of two taloned legs.
The woman looked at him and a shadow fell across her face. "Ally's dead Daemon... she's with Blayne."
The younger brother was silent in the wake of her words, feeling a few glimmering, potent tears drop onto the burnt ground under him. Upon the touch of phoenix tears, the charred earth transformed back into life. Star-centered jonquil sprouted up in a show of magic, and perhaps pity from nature. Their slender white petals dipped high, exposing the pale sunlight within. Their fragility, beauty, simplicity was contrasting with the otherwise barren earth. Only two foresters could have gotten the full meaning behind the sudden blossoms. There were three, all perfectly formed and tall standing.
Jonquil: A requited love.
At the symbol from some greater hand, the boy stopped his tears, eyes softening and piercing as they looked back up at his brother's lover.
"What will you do now?"
The reborn person was looking away, from both him and the flower's meaning.
"Away from here, to find a new life."
"And what of the wolves?"
"They will live. They always have."
The bird pondered this for a moment, cocking his head in thought.
"Well, I am coming and I cannot go around calling you nothing. So what will it be?"
It would seem strange for such a young child to ease through mourning so quickly, but the simple fact was that Daemon had not indeed healed from his brother's loss. Instead, he had remembered a promise and for him, decided to keep it. He would protect the heart he loved, which currently resided in the female before him.
Her wild gaze unfocused for a breath. "Blair... Blair Kryeen."
§
And so a new life was born. It centered on a handful of questions.
Who?
Why?
When?
How?
Who was she—that girl Ally? Who were her parents, presuming she had any; whose fault was she?
Why was she given to be tortured? Why was she powerful?
When was she created? When was she given over?
How did this happen—her start, her torture, her life before? How was she able to hold magic?
The search was swerving though, around the central killings that their lives had become. Death would command a victim, and Blair would deliver. There was a savage, fierce delight in the hunt. She remembered that.
At first, a conscience sounded suspiciously like Blayne's voice kept her away from blood. But the ache within her returned, unrelenting and grasping to stab her heart out. It was a warning and the death dealer obeyed. Her first kill in so many years, and she felt alive.
Her immortal blood raced brightly beneath sinewy muscle. Predatory thoughts were aided by heightened senses. Power—the wild, devastating power of fire coursed through her core and nipped away the budding sorrow. It was a rush twice as strong as any drug their was. And soon, Aduru lived for the hunt. It was freedom, it was domination.
It was life.
Thrice, she attempted to send Daemon away. The first time was before a kill, when she wanted to keep the boy from seeing her excited, blood-thirsty self. But the phoenix would always reappear by her side no longer how far or long the night was. He was morning, dawn and always there. The second time it was for more selfish reasons. She found that complete closure was impossible with a little red reminder of her past life. She scouted for a week for a suitable family—a happy, naïve little group with a charming young daughter and her parents. Before a massacre, she dropped him off and secretly planned never to return. However those intelligent icy eyes could not be fulled. He tailed her all night and was by her side in the cardinal-covered field later on. The final time was for his own safety. Fire was bright, alluring, and vehement. It was also unbridled and sparking too easily for little control. Power corrupts, or perhaps a corrupt person gains power. Either way, by desire or manipulation of her own power, Kryeen had begun to loose what little self she had left. And even monsters do not turn on her own. Daemon may have been the bane of her existence—the annoying angel shoulder and constant nagging to her sin—but he was also an irreplaceable tie to what was lost, and what is loved. He kept away that night, coming in the morning to find her half-dead, hanging off some tree with mangled limbs. Upon approaching, her half-alert brain nearly ripped off a wing before recognizing him. It was intuitive, attack before hesitation. When you hesitate, there is always that moment of silence, stillness. It is in those moments that memories resurface. So don't hesitate. It hurt too much.
§
Time was skipping her again, angry at her betrayal of its keeper. Yet it was a while before she met them, the other death dealers.
§
Death had called them all together, a rare and dangerous occurrence which all natural forces acknowledged with disasters in the shift of ancient power. The East experienced a massive earthquake, the West a dust storm, the South a tsunami, and the North the hale of the season.
All eyes watched her as Blair approached, smirking dangerously with her aura crackling.
"You're the young one, the Aduru Eposis." A misty, pale immortal stated in his breathy voice.
"My name is Blair." She replied stubbornly, golden eyes flashing.
The white-haired creature blinked in mild surprise.
"Short-tempered are we?" A willowy figure with deep rich colors stepped forward, sienna eyes trailing over the younger death dealer. A look of almost approval crossed her radiant, domineering features.
"You like that, Seraphina?" A darker, shadier form approached from the shadows, malevolent crimson orbs swept over his brethren.
"Hm, it is better than being as sadistic as you, Draeg." The woman replied, her face contorting angrily and changes her entire persona.
The pale man simply hissed in dark humor.
"Still I doubt you're half as cruel as little Larka over there." Seraphina added with a sweep of her glowing gaze.
A petite, blue-haired woman was addressed. Her complex features and startling turquoise eyes never registered wrath or distaste for the comment.
"We all have our faults, Seraphina." Instead it was the white-eyed man that spoke up on her behalf, still as calm.
"Do you still defend your lover Astor? How pitiful!" The other male mocked with a toothy grin. It created a fearful effect due to the oversized canines.
"And what do you kill for, Darkling? Your own greedy stomach?" Larka replied back, her voice rippling in anger.
"What are you all, some sort of play?" Kryeen found her voice again.
"Hm, and what about you little one? Why did you take the curse?" The Golden One asked in her booming voice.
Immediately, pikes shot up. "None of your fucking business."
Seraphina chuckled heavily. "Spit-fire."
The vampire stepped from his bored slouch, pale face snarling. "But can she back up her words?"
His blade was produced, mythical energy running through its hilt and blade.
"Draeg, this is not what we have been summoned for. She is young." Astor stood up for the new recruit's well-being. Too bad she didn't care about her own health.
"Is that a challenge?" The untamed woman asked with coy, cracking her fingers one by one.
"Is that all you have? Perhaps I should listen to the lover then..." The dark-haired man stated smoothly, flourishing his talent in a series of steps and forms.
"As though I'd need anymore. But if you fear me, that is understandable shadow-man..." Her smile was taunting, bold... cheeky.
The night immortal dropped all pretense. "Watch your tongue or I'll cut it out."
"Just try."
The air suddenly became tense, charged. The banter had turned into something that might actually be real.
"Baka." Larka murmured, remaining seated.
No one moved to step between the two—no one there was obvious self-inflicting. Red and gold exchanged heated glances, shadows and fire crept around by their masters.
Blair struck first, diving with a fist so the flames shot out like a whip to snap at his heel.
Draeg was faster, side-stepping the attack and thrusting his sword to her defense at the same time.
Kryeen forced her hands up in a cross against the blade, allowing the fire that licked her skin to deflect the assault. She sent them to crawl snake-like up the offending blade.
Darkling withdrew his sword and made one large ark that effectively suffocated the fire, and with a step was able to become another attack.
Blair had to jump to avoid the sword, shooting a fireball by snapping and flinging her fingers in a quick gesture.
Draeg did a sweeping bow to avoid the singing orb, smirking as he pulled two fingers in. Shadows rapidly advanced toward the glowing figure in the sky.
From the air, Kryeen cursed as she failed to dodge the darkness that crawled along her foot and wrapped around her ankle. She kicked the other foot far out of the intangible reach.
He pointed his fingers down, making a firm gesture. The shadow bindings responded by yanking their victim harshly into the earth. The momentum caused a faint crack in the earth.
Blair clenched her teeth against the pain as she felt her strings pull her body up again, slamming it with more force into the ground. This time a fair-sized hole formed where she landed.
"You're too young... too weak." The dark immortal commented in his crackling laugh.
And suddenly the air around his victim heated up.
Too weak... too weak to save him... to kill him... No! Never again—I won't be weak!
A hidden fire burst forth in her bird-like eyes, darting around with a sense of freedom. As the shadow picked her into the air again, the fire-haired woman increased the heat around her until the very air within three feet of her combusted. The sudden light and heat deteriorated the chain.
Cardinal eyes blinked at the sudden change. Her countenance, her aura—it was hotter, less controlled...
Blair burst forth from a convulsing wall of flame, leaping toward her opponent with a fierce snarl and wheeling her leg back for a sharp, fire-bitten kick.
Moving quickly, Draeg brought his sword back up to guard before a fatal attack reached his head. However, the renown blade shuddered under his grasp, heating up and burning his pale skin. There was a splitting crack and the a loud cry among the blinding light caused by the ferocity of her attack.
When it cleared, Blair was standing and panting, sweat rolling down her locks. Darkling was holding a blackened hand and had his shoulder nearly detached as the fire had spread up from his blade to his hand and frying down the length of his limb to his shoulder blade. He was staring in wonder at the once immeasurable blade in his hand—now baring a long scar along its entire length.
It looked like the fight might commence from the enraged look in his eyes and the mad thirst in hers, but just then a familiar voice called out. But even before their master arrived, two scars had been given and one grudge formed.
§
"Little one," That forceful voice called after her as the meeting dismissed.
Eposis spun around, glaring and offensive.
Seraphina looked at her with some amusement. "You fought well against Darkling."
"What do you want?" The fallen creature demanded, not batting an eyelash at the compliment.
The day immortal gave her an appraising look, allowing a very advanced aura to seep out in silent regard. "But you are ill-trained. You have no more control then fire itself and seem to not know any other way to fight."
"I get along." The individual formerly known as Ally spat back out.
Seraphina humphed. "I will train you."
Surprise registered in bright eyes, retaining the fiery remnants. "Why?"
"You remind me of someone."
§
And so she did. And as grudgingly as her apprentice seemed, she never doubted the older woman's power after one fight. Seraphina held the power of the Sun. She was a goddess and for some reason chose to aid this little flicker. And did she learn. Blair realized her own power, and perfected the use of a knouter. Every weapon was exposed, but the sadistic Aduru was attracted the weapon that could torture just as easily as it could kill. And though the two may have denied it, a special kind of bond was formed. It was a link of blood, of pain, of whimsical remembrances, and of fire's bold bask. But Kryeen would end just as Ally would.
§
Veridian eyes shot open, not completely processing the dim surroundings.
"Harry, hey kid you better not be dead! You're damn heart is beating and you're breathing so you can't be dead... Shit! Brat wake up!" There was that spicy, smooth, dangerous voice.
His gaze turned toward the familiar figure, smudged and bloody, leaning over him with a few longer crimson locks fingering his chest.
"Blair..." Harry croaked out, his mind catching up with the sudden alertness.
The boy sat up quickly, startling his professor into falling back on her legs. He was panting, and lying on a slick, wet floor in the cave. His pupils still dilated, the wizard turned to his companion.
"Blair I saw you..."
The DADA teacher lifted an eyebrow. "What did that fall result in your five-second memory or something? You've seen me before idiot."
Potter let the comment slide, the growing importance of the vision making him speak again. "No I saw... Blayne and Daemon... except he was a wolf... and you were tortured... and Seraphina and Draeg..."
Golden eyes narrowed. The darkness set in them, and he was reminded suddenly of Ally's crackling brown eyes.
"My past?"
The boy-who-lived nodded, guilt and pity wrenching in his stomach along with disgust.
The witch turned away for a moment. "I guessed so, after all I saw your past."
The Chosen One blinked at this new piece of information. "You did?"
She nodded curtly. "Oh and Harry..."
"Yeah?"
"Are the Dursely's under your kind of noble protection? Because if not..."
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A/N: Another long one! Whew, it was worth it though! Might be my only one for December though, sorry! Anyways, there is A LOT of symbolism behind Seraphina and we'll hear more about her later on... Oh, and anyone got any predictions? They are so fun to read! Luv ya all!