The air in the War Room was thick with the smell of decay, though no fighting had taken place within its walls. It was the sickening scent of Trigon, perched atop his throne. The demon lived for death and destruction, and it would be weeks before the stench was toleratable. Even longer before it became undetectable to human senses. It would never disappear completely.

The two commanders kneeled before him, and waited for him to speak.

"It has begun." His voice boomed, echoing off the stone walls as well as inside their skulls. "The armies of the enemies have been reduced to near nothing, and our control is almost complete. Only a few pockets of resistance still remain, and those can be easily dealt with." The demon pulled back his lips in a sneer, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "Slade, you will begin the job of cleaning up the countries and readying them to be untied under my rule. I have left instructions for you in the western barracks."

Slade paused a moment, then, recognizing the dismissal, gave a final bow before sweeping out of the room.

Raven let out a silent breath as Slade, but knew deep down that his absence could only mean more trouble for her. What would come next would be something too important for anyone but her to hear, and that could only be bad. "The only surviving members of the other royal houses are currently residing in our dungeon. Do you know why I let them live?"

The half-demon remained silent for a moment, rummaging frantically through her mind in an attempt to answer. Then the scene from Mechin was trust up from the rotting place where she stored her thoughts from the war. "Royal inheritance?" She ventured after a moment.

"Exactly." Trigon answered, and Raven relaxed slightly. "Each of those beings has inherited the rule of their kingdoms, and the power that comes with it. I will have that power."

"How will you do that? Have you not captured their cities and slaughtered their people?" The young woman shivered beneath her cloak, seeing flashes of the war, and though these memories were not complete they were all disgusting. She vaguely remembered pulling the bones of a mans fingers out through his skin to make him reveal the location of a civilian bunker. She could have read his mind, but she preferred to torture him. She had laughed as he sputtered his answer, words barely coherent through the thick stream of blood gushing out of his mouth, and the half useless tongue he had bitten near off in an attempt to keep himself quite. She then left him to be finished off by her demon troops.

"I will do nothing. Killing them will not help me. The ancient laws must accept me as ruler or I can never fully be their king, and you will find a way to make this happen." He stood from his throne and strode over to her, motioning for her to rise. He placed the palm of one hand against her face, and caressed the skin their, paler than usual from the mask. "You have been using it I see." He looked at her with an emotion that could almost be described as pity. "Your mothers blood runs strong in you, but weak enough, I hope, not to stop you from your duties."

"Nothing could stop me from doing you will." She responded faintly. His close proximity was making her light-headed, as if she were leaning over the side of an unfathomably high tower, powerless and being drawn toward the ground. Being in the same room with him was dancing with death, standing this close was suicide.

He left his hand drop to his side. "Good. Now go and do it." He continued to watch her, and Raven was only to happy to bow her way out of his presence.

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Raven stepped out of the War Room and into the long hallway. She stood there for a moment, collecting her thoughts. She would have to do some research, and find a way to accomplish Trigons wishes, but at the moment she couldn't muster the energy to begin. She would start the next day, and devise a plan of action. But for the moment the only thing she could focus on was a hot bath, then bed.

She had just begun weaving a portal when a figure imuged from behind a stone collum. Raven glared at the approaching man, but let her magic die in her hands. "What do you want?"

Slade stopped and held the golden mask out infront of him. "This thing may be dangerous, but it may come in handy in the future." Though not a flicker of emotion crossed her face it was clear she would rather cut off her right hand then take the object from him. "Besides," he continued, "it is always foolish to leave ancient magical artifacts laying around the palace. Sticky-fingered maids and all that." Raven looked at it a moment longer before tucking it into a pocket of her cloak. The pair stood together in the silence that followed, and after a moment Raven decided she had best dismiss him before he came up with some excuse to follw he back to her room instead of follow her fathers orders.

"Don't you have someplace to be?"

Slade laughed, and leaned toward her slightly. "No, the mission doesn't start until tomorrow. We have the whole night and well into the morning." One of his arms was suddenly pulling her to him, and with an undignified squeal that undermined the image she tried daily to maintain she ported to her room, leaving a smirking Slade behind.

0 0 0

The next morning Raven awoke with the fading memory of a nightmare behind her eyes, though she had slept with no less then a dozen dream catchers around her bed. What little she remembered of the nightmare made her shiver in the warm air of her bedroom. Some of them were old memories, some of them were new. All of them were terrifying. She imagined that they could only catch so much before they no longer worked.

After a shower and fresh change of clothes she began her research in the library. She spent nearly an hour sifting through the thousands of volumes of text before she found one that even came close to being useful. But after just a few short pages she realized that she had no way of doing any of this as she was now.

The power could only be given through a bond of blood (But neither she nor Trigon were related to any of them, at least to her knowledge.), or given freely. She need to win their trust, something the spawn of a demon could never hope to gain.

She needed a new identity.

0 0 0

Authors Note: Yes, it's been forever. I know, and I'm sorry. But what can I say? I'm lazy.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

--Queen of the Gnomes, and Empress of Procrastination,

NumbuhZero