Trigon's Daughter
Chapter Nine
by
Cuervos Bestia
Two years had come and gone since the demise of Daenivar, and things had changed. Upon their victorious return to Underrealm, her father had been pleased with her performance, and more pleased still that her demonic nature had emerged and seemed to be growing stronger by the day.
A cloud of dust filled the air, and the sounds of combat wafted up into the higher stands of the fighting pit. Two figures in the centre below traded blow after blow; metal striking metal over and over again. Neither appeared to falter or misstep; each was sure and steady in their deadly movements. The taller combatant was stocky and strong, while the shorter of the two was lean and fast.
Raven wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her brow. Her black armour was painted ochre from the sand of the arena. She had a small scrape on her chin but looked otherwise none the worse for wear. Her dark hair was braided down the length of her back to her waist. Strands of violet framed her features. And her full lips parted as she breathed deeply.
She swept her eyes across the stands of the arena. Hmm none of my brothers to watch me spar this morning, she mused. Raven caught sight of Nethial standing by the balustrade; his arms crossed over his large chest and an unreadable expression upon his face - as was his usual character. Raven's gaze lingered on her mentor - perhaps a little too long.
Taking the chance, her opponent lunged forward, the tip of her sword aimed straight for Raven's chest. The attack was calm, strong and decisive. Barely startled, Raven drew her attention back into the fight, side-stepped to the right, parried with her blade, and pivoted quickly on nimble feet. Another plume of dust rose at her quick movements. She whipped out a compact dagger from a sheath strapped to her thigh, and slashed her attacker's back from hip to shoulder. The injury elicited a grunt of pain from Delstera, who turned to Raven with a withering glare.
Raven simply provided a cold smirk in response.
Delstera was not to be defeated so easily, if anything the wound had ignited an even fiercer fury. She was of Moncosa, a harsh planet made up of barbaric tribes and controlled by bloodthirsty warlords. She had been born into a lowly life, and by the age of eleven had been offered as a bride to an invading lord, in return for having her village spared from conquest. It was all for naught, as not long after, Trigon and his horde had invaded her planet and had all of Moncosa under his heel in two days.
"You will regret that." Delstera hissed through clenched teeth.
Raven's smirk morphed into a grin as she caught the metallic scent of fresh blood from Delstera's wound. And for a moment, her eyes darkened to a bloody shade of red and split into two pairs. "Will I?" She taunted.
If for a moment she was being completely honest with herself, Delstera would admit that witnessing that change in her opponent had given her pause, and she felt a rare ripple of fear work its way through her body. She hadn't felt this way since she was a small girl being led to Underrealm in chains, knowing that she would soon have to compete for her life in the Blood Trials with all of the other captured children. She didn't know if she would live or die. Luckily, she survived, and more than that, she discovered that she had a knack for slashing, hacking, and killing. Before long, she found herself climbing the ranks of Legion infantry command. She was by no means a big fish, but she had her own quarters and a little authority; which was far more than she could say for other soldiers, especially as a female. She counted herself very lucky that she hadn't ended up in a lowly brothel to be used as a sexual plaything by the nobility of Underrealm.
Delstera had to defeat this girl. Trigon's daughter she may be, but a young girl she was all the same. The humiliation she would face at having been defeated by a mere child would be insurmountable. The stocky Moncosan grit her teeth both against the searing pain in her back and to push the remnants of her fear aside. She squared up against her opponent, determined to defeat the young demoness.
On one side stood Delstera, her muscles rippling as she brandished her sword. On the other side stood Raven, her slender frame belied her lightning-fast strikes. The two young women circled each other, eyes locked, waiting for the other to make a move. Suddenly, Delstera charged, her sword swinging in a powerful arc. Raven deftly dodged to the side, thrusting her blade towards Delstera's exposed back. But Delstera had learned from the last time and she was ready. She spun around, her sword easily deflecting the blow.
Let me out. You are taking too long.
No, I want to do this myself. Raven gritted her teeth.
The two women continued to dance around each other, their swords clanging and sparking with each strike. Delstera's strength gave her the advantage, but Raven's speed and agility allowed her to dodge and strike back with precision. As the fight wore on, the women grew more and more exhausted. Delstera's heavy breathing echoed through the fighting pit, while Raven's face was slick with sweat. But still, they fought on, each determined to emerge victorious.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow across the sandy floor of the arena as Delstera and Raven faced each other once again. Delstera tightened her grip on her sword, her muscles tensing with anticipation. Raven, her eyes shimmering with arcane energy, held her sword in one hand, her other hand crackling with power.
With a fierce battle roar, Delstera charged forward, her sword slashing through the air. Raven gracefully sidestepped the attack, her eyes focused as she weaved intricate gestures with her free hand. Suddenly, a burst of energy erupted from her fingertips, hurtling towards Delstera in the form of a black lightning bolt.
Delstera's reflexes kicked in, and she managed to deflect the lightning with a swift swing of her sword. But Raven wasn't done. She channelled her magic once more, this time conjuring a gust of energy that swirled around her. As Delstera lunged forward for another attack, Raven released the cyclone, sending Delstera off-balance and stumbling backward.
Determined not to be outmatched, Delstera regained her footing and launched herself at Raven again. This time, she anticipated Raven's magic and dodged a power orb with a well-timed sidestep.
"Your magic is cute, girl. Your Lord Father wouldn't be impressed by such cutesy party tricks would he?" Delstera jeered.
Raven smiled, "My father doesn't know your name. You are nobody to him. And you are nobody to me. You should be grateful that you were even considered to be my sparring partner for today. But never forget that you will never amount to anything. This little spar could very well be the highlight of your life." Raven sneered.
With a cry of fury, Delstera leapt toward Raven, her sword raised high to deliver an anger-fueled blow from above. Raven's face contorted with concentration as she tapped deeper into her magical reservoir. The ground beneath Delstera shook, cracks forming as tendrils of magic surged upward, aiming to ensnare her. Delstera jumped and somersaulted over the erupting black coils, narrowly avoiding being trapped.
Now fully embracing her magical power in combat, Raven sent a surge of energy coursing through her sword. The blade glowed with an ethereal black light as she swung it towards Delstera. The strike unleashed a wave of pure arcane power that crashed against Delstera's defences, shaking the colosseum.
Back on the balustrade, Nethial huffed in annoyance when a small amount of debris fell onto his shoulder.
Delstera refused to yield. She fought back with every ounce of her strength, her sword meeting Raven's in a flurry of clashes. Their weapons sparked and clashed with increasing intensity as the battle raged on. Delstera's determination and Raven's command of magic created an exhilarating dance of skill and power.
In a final act of desperation, Delstera lunged forward, channelling all her energy into a single, mighty strike. But Raven was ready. She channelled her magic into a protective shield, and as Delstera's sword collided with it, a brilliant explosion filled the colosseum.
The dust settled, revealing Raven standing unharmed, her sword still in hand. Her head was bowed low. Her armour now looked entirely dark orange instead of black. Delstera, her strength drained, dropped to her knees, her sword falling from her grasp. Raven approached her fallen opponent, her expression purely demonic.
"You have lost," Raven stated in a guttural voice with two pairs of blood-red eyes adorning her face. A malicious grin spread across her mouth, showing rows of sharp teeth.
The demoness savagely grasped her opponent's neck and squeezed hard. Delstera kicked wildly when she felt her feet lifted from the ground, and she realized that Raven was growing taller. Black tendrils of energy snaked out from beneath the girl and lashed about like some Lovecraftian horror. Raven's nails bit into the thin skin and Delstera felt blood trickle down her neck. She grabbed desperately at the hand wrapped tightly around her windpipe. The struggles of the Moncosan grew weaker as she choked for air. Delstera felt her world growing darker by the second.
"Release her, Raven," came a sharp command from Nethial. "She has served her purpose and has been defeated."
Raven growled in response but her grip didn't yield. Delstera's movements grew increasingly feeble.
"Enough." Nethial moved with blinding speed and appeared beside the two females. "There would not be enough soldiers in the legion if I killed every inferior recruit that I laid my hands upon. Release her." He commanded again with a snarl.
"Fine." Raven sneered, "I grow bored of her anyway."
The young demoness dropped Delstera and licked the small trickle of blood from her nails. Her red eyes returned to normal. She chuckled as her defeated opponent lay gasping at her feet.
"Better luck next time, Moncosan." scoffing, Raven turned her back and walked to the arena's exit.
Delstera wheezed on the ground, "Thank you, my lord General."
"Get out of my sight. Be grateful that I do not throw you into the fighting pits or, worse, the brothels for your disappointing performance." Nethial glared at her disdainfully.
"But my lord, she-she…" Delstera spluttered.
"She bested you, and you were sorely defeated."
Nethial strode from the arena, leaving the bruised Moncosan to lay in the ochre dust.
Raven had just passed into the south wing of the citadel. Her wounds from sparring had already healed so all that she wanted to do was wash away the dust, sweat, and blood, and then retire to her quarters for the remainder of the evening. She sighed internally when her ears caught the sound of approaching footsteps from the arena. She wasn't entirely in the mood for a lesson from him at present.
Her mentor wordlessly fell into step beside her.
"Your Rage is growing more in control every day," Nethial stated matter-of-factly while passing Raven a sideways glance.
Raven showed no sign of acknowledgement and continued her steady pace down the corridor. Patiently waiting for the inevitable parable that she knew was coming.
"While having your Rage at the forefront in battle is effective, it can also lead to some rash decisions. Indeed, today the stakes do not seem too high, but there remains a lesson to be learned. It's worse to let your opponents linger and languish in their defeat. Death is so final and so quick. To leave them alive, breathing and surviving, and fully capable of understanding that you've destroyed their world, everything they hold dear. That is a victory worthy of Skath; worth savouring."
"I understand," Raven replied pensively.
"Your Lord Father is renowned for leaving entire worlds intact, only to have the populace serve him. That sort of punishment crushes the spirit and destroys it from within. Knowing that your existence is prolonged at the pleasure of your overlord and that he can destroy like a worthless insect. It translates well to strategy also. Do not kill an enemy if they can prove to be a useful asset in later battles."
Raven nodded silently in agreement.
Thankfully the pair had reached Raven's quarters by now.
"Remember what I say, Raven. You have so much potential even at your young age; don't squander it by becoming arrogant." Nethial said, "I shall leave you to retire for the evening. See you in the arena tomorrow morning."
Raven nodded again and stepped inside her quarters. "Good night General."
That night, like every night, the sky above Underrealm was devoid of stars and moon, leaving it perpetually cloaked in an inky blackness that seemed to stretch infinitely. The absence of celestial bodies intensified the feeling of isolation and desolation as if every living being was trapped in an abyss without end. Flickering flames that dotted the landscape cast an eerie, flickering light that illuminated only fragments of Trigon's domain. The air was thick with the acrid scent of sulphur and brimstone, a pungent reminder of the infernal fires that burned relentlessly. Echoes of distant, tormented cries reverberated through the air, carried by unseen winds that seemed to whisper the tales of suffering that transpired within the depths of Underrealm.
Among the towers of her father's citadel Raven sat upon her spired perch, her safe place amidst the chaos that was her home. After all these years this was still the spot she came to when she needed to think, or to just be alone. She had grown accompanied to Mina's presence, and even found it to be comforting on rare occasions. Although she would rather die a thousand times over before she admitted to it. But even with the surprising companionship the servant girl provided, there were some things that Raven preferred to keep to herself. This was one of those things.
Raven sighed heavily. Something within herself had felt different lately. It was hard for her to put her finger on, but it was a strong feeling that she hadn't felt before. A metamorphosis had taken root within her being. She could no longer deny the intoxicating allure of the malevolent power that coursed through her veins. It was as though a dormant darkness had found its symphony, resonating with the most hidden recesses of her desires. The tendrils of this force slithered around her consciousness, weaving their way into her thoughts and dreams.
She was aware that Rage had been growing stronger and more vocal in recent weeks. And it wasn't a coincidence. The personification of her wrath, however, had been surprisingly silent on these changes.
She found that embracing the maleficent power was akin to succumbing to a long-suppressed hunger. Her every step radiated an unsettling confidence, a palpable aura that exuded dominance over the world around her. The coils of power wrapped around her heart and mind, whispering secrets of dominance and control that made her pulse quicken with exhilaration.
Raven stared out from her spire of solitude. She didn't know how long exactly she had been sitting on the ledge looking out across Underrealm. Her introspection hadn't yielded anything valuable and she felt the pull of sleep growing stronger. Another tired sigh escaped her as she stood stiffly, and floated to the rampart below. Rage and her thoughts were blissfully quiet as she returned to her rooms for much needed sleep.
As the first tendrils of awakeness brushed across the edges of her consciousness, Raven stirred from her slumber, a sense of disquiet settling over her. The sheets felt coarse against her skin, and an inexplicable warmth pulsed beneath her fingertips. With growing trepidation, she pushed herself up, her heart quickening as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror across the room. The surface of her once-unblemished skin was now marred by an intricate tapestry of demonic markings, those belonging to Skath. Belonging to Trigon.
Sinuous lines and esoteric symbols coiled around her arms and traced sinewy paths across her torso, their burning red in stark contrast to her pallid flesh. The marks seemed to writhe, as if possessing a life of their own, and a sensation of otherworldly power pulsed from them, mingling with her own heartbeat. She traced the patterns with trembling fingers, her touch confirming the reality of her new visage. The most striking of the marks was a unique stylized 'S' emblazoned on her forehead.
Father will be pleased with us. Soon we will be ready to fulfil our birthright. Soon we will be his portal. All will fear us.
Rage began to laugh, and Raven couldn't help but begin laughing along with her.
Hi my lovely readers,
I am so sorry that it has been another year and more before I updated this story! Time just gets away from me so often. But I want you all to know that I have a very solid plan for where this story is going and I am very invested in writing it and sharing it with you all.
And so our beloved Raven is continuing to grow into a very vicious demon indeed! What will that mean for our Titan friends on Earth I wonder?
Sincerely,
CB