The Forgotten Zodiac

Forin let him go, sitting there in silence. Was he not really a Tartaran, then? Was this how all of his kind saw him now? He didn't want to be a normal Tartaran. He hadn't been lying when he said the best thing in the world was friendship. His only problem now was the fact that he didn't have that anymore. Now that he, one who was never meant to feel positive emotions, had learned what it was like to love, to laugh, and to simply be happy...he felt like he was going insane without those feelings. How was he to love, laugh, or be happy at all without Luen and Diana?

Hours passed, and he came to no conclusion. He caught himself biting his own finger until it bled. Just to make sure he really was alive again. Forin was beginning to think of himself as truly going insane; he couldn't help but imagine himself as a forgetful, tireless, malicious little beast like Cern was. What drove Cern? Didn't he want the happiness of his summoner too? Forin was quick to give up on finding an answer to that question.

Eventually, he just settled back down in his cage, still biting on his thumb as though he would surely die if he stopped.

Malice was bored.

To put it dreadfully simply, he had been sitting on his self-appointed throne for hours now, listening to his own thoughts and the screaming of one of his underlings as he tormented them with lighting that he created from his hand.

So yes, he was very, very bored.

He snorted, then decided to call in one of his favorite Marked. Currently, he had only three out of five Marked, two of which were his most favorite out of all of the ones he had ever had. One of his favorites was Welk. He saw how much sheer potential the fire mage had and he loved it. Malice's plans for Welk didn't stop at being a mere slave, oh no. He had far greater things planned for the half-cat. For now, though, he contented himself with summoning his second-favorite Marked. He waited, looking eager. Deciding to go for a bit more fun than normal, he called for his third Marked as well, knowing that one would arrive quicker than the second.

The light dimmed in the room as the door was opened. A single person walked slowly in, head held high. "You called, my liege?" She said quietly, lingering near the door. She was fairly normal looking, just another pretty face in a crowd. Her hair was a light brown, curling delicately around her small face, though her bangs constantly slid over soft green eyes if she didn't wear a headband.

She was a little shorter than most, and she looked a bit older than Cynyr, but she looked rather underfed. And rather...miserable. She always did, on the other hand. She wore a simple dress; a blue body with a darker blue skirt that trailed to about her knees. She wore sandals with thick leather straps keeping them to her small feet. Her thin fingers were wrapped around a basket of blooming daffodils, which seemed to wilt slightly in Malice's presence. Her other hand reached up and removed the wide-brimmed straw hat as she walked forward, curtsying before Malice's throne.

The cursed-being smiled thinly when she entered the room, saying "Yes, I did. Do you know why I called you, child?" When she had no answer, he continued. "I am severely bored. I want something to take away my bored. So unless you want to become the new coat of blood on my floors, you'll do as I say and entertain me. In fact...I want you to fight him." He moved a hand out and pointed as his second-favorite Marked entered the room.

Relic. If you could even call him that anymore.

The raptorix's once vibrant red scales were now a dusty, lifeless gray, his eyes two empty zombie holes in his head. He was a walking corpse, his once auburn hair now a brittle light gray. He walked with a limped step, his skin nearly rotting. He didn't say anything, simply bowed lightly at Malice's feet.

"You will fight Relic, my prize," Malice said, smiling at the girl.

Kiraki - as that was her name - stood at once and stepped back and away from Relic one or two paces. "B-but my lord, I--" She stopped as the mark on her arm burned painfully. She then swallowed hard and nodded. She stepped to the side and set her basket down, checking on something underneath the wilting flowers; a small brown teddy bear, which she held very dear to her.

She then stepped away and turned to her opponent, noting a number of things at once. Firstly, it was the same Raptorix that she heard stories about; a citizen of Alastor previously, she was familiar with the legend of the mighty Relic, the last of his kind, able to suffer through any damage and regenerate almost immediately. There were rumors that he was also crazy, but that was beyond the point. Secondly, the most important, she noted that he had absolutely no life within him. It was her worst enemy.

You see, her attacks weren't really attacks. She absorbed magic itself, as well as a few other natural elements such as light. Without even thinking, she could drain the happiness from a person with just a simple touch. She had done so on a number of occasions by mistake. In fact, she had no happiness of her own due to that. But this person...at the most, she may be able to absorb some of his life force and regenerate her own wounds. But on the other hand, she was no good at physical fights, especially in hand to hand combat situations.

"My lord, may I have a weapon? Something...sharp," She requested quietly, knowing that she had to submit if he ordered she fight without one. Which wouldn't turn out well.

Not that there were many ways this would turn out well in her mind, but no matter.

Malice debated silently, then finally made his decision, saying "Fine. I will allow you a weapon." He moved a hand out and pointed one of his long white fingers at the ground, where a black blade formed, rising up out of the ground. "That will be your weapon. You will have no other and no armor," he instructed. "Begin now."

Relic dropped into a crouch, screeching out a feral roar that resonated through the underground base. There was a sense of unrest about him, an air of insanity much greater than he had ever had. For as long as his body was controlled, his soul wouldn't rest peacefully. He screeched at her, then started advancing, tendrils of saliva dripping from the decayed edges of his torn mouth.

Kiraki grabbed up the sword, thankful that it had been a simple blade. She wasn't familiar with any weapons, but her father used to make, sharpen, and repair swords. So at the very least, she knew how to not hurt herself with them. She flinched back at the roar, but was quick to dart forward, running her blade with a clean stab into Relic's neck.

Relic made a sickening gurgling sound, almost like a wet squeak. Black blood that used to be red gushed from his neck and mouth, thick and slimy. It had had two years to rot inside of his body, after all. It was rancid and disgusting, with an acidic tang to it when smelled or tasted. He moved his hand forward and grabbed her arm, digging his claws in hard. He hissed, making horrible bubbling and gurgling sounds.

Kiraki whimpered with the pain, jerking her arm away (and her sword out in turn) and slicing Relic's chest open before recoiling in panic. She stumbled several steps away, looking down at her own blood in horror. She felt sick, she was terrified, she wanted to be anywhere but here...she slashed at Relic's leg as he lumbered towards her again, still bubbling and gurgling.

Relic sputtered hard, moving a hand up to place it over his chest. The wound in his neck had already re-sealed, preventing anymore blood from getting out there. When Kiraki cut his leg, he toppled over, a horrible moan escaping his lips.

Malice was watching intently, his boredom forgotten in favor of the fight.

Relic staggered up, his wounds already healed by his powers. He lurched forward, hissing.

Kiraki had been too distracted to keep Relic from climbing back up again; she had been watching the wound on her arm start to heal over, spurred on by Relic's own powers. Which, of course, she was absorbing. She jumped when Relic hissed and moved forward again. She stabbed the blade through his chest again, wondering if a solid attack to the heart might keep him down. She pushed the sword in until there was no blade she could see, just the hilt; the rest of it had pierced through his back.

The raptorix gurgled, feeling the blade in his chest, then he yanked it out and let it fall to the ground, lunging forward and grabbing the girl by her neck, snarling in her face. He held her up and slammed her back against the wall, his torn lips pulled back in order to hiss at her. Before he could kill her, however, Malice's voice wafted into the air.

"Relic...don't kill her. Yet," he said. "I still have need of her abilities. Let her go. You both have served your purpose."

The dead raptorix hesitated, then nodded slowly and let Kiraki go, stepping back.

Kiraki slid to the ground, coughing weakly as she regained her ability to breathe. She slowly stood, curtsying again. "O-of course, your lordship," She said quietly, straightening up and walking forward to pick up her basket again, turning away without a word. She was still shaking as she slowly walked towards the door again.

((The fun part is the fact where she's a Alastorain citizen. So she'll know Werr as her king. 936))

Malice smirked, then looked to Relic and said "I have an assignment for you, raptorix."

Relic perked his ears slightly, showing that he was listening.

"I require something," Malice said. "Something...special." He bent forward and whispered into Relic's ear, making the corpse gape at him. His voice, when it came, was the stuff nightmares were made of. Bleak, dry and shaky. With no soul.

"M-m-my l-l-lord...y-you w-want h-him s-so s-soon?"

"Don't worry, Relic," Malice said. "He's more than ready to break. Fetch my new vessel for me. I grow weary of this body."

Relic nodded once, then turned and wandered out of the room.

The moon shone above them as Firestorm went in for another landing. The day had been just as long as the last; they flew low thanks to Obelisk's insistence that the others would be unable to spot it if they were too high up. But a few long hours after night came, Obelisk had pointed out a spot of green amongst the white sands. No one ventured this far; it was smack-dab in the middle of the desert. Even the bandits and whatnot didn't dare move out this far.

But as they attempted to land, none other than a giant ice spike jutted out from the ground, attempting to tear right through Firestorm's wings. At the base of the spike was a flustered looking Cern, and a mad looking Gurushi. "Again!" She snapped. Cern winced, then sent another ice spike upwards. He didn't seem capable of much movement; his legs were bandaged and in splints. He was moving by crawling on all fours, at this point. Apparently, even though Cern had found someone to make the correct potion out of Zephyr's scales, Gurushi had taken both of them for herself.

Firestorm arched around, avoiding the spikes as best as he could. He flared his wings, then dropped down, billowing fire out in torrential waves. He easily shattered the ice spikes coming at him, since they were weak and not wielded skillfully. He landed on the sandy desert, his wings open to the sides in order to protect those on his back. He leapt to the side, nearly knocking several people off, but managing to keep them all on.

Cynyr held on tightly to the spike in front of him, wondering how they had gotten into this mess. He reached out and held Werr's shoulder, making sure the boy stayed on.

Cern whimpered as Gurushi snapped another order. Cern turned his head, looking up at his master pleadingly. "Gurushi, I don't want to be here! Th-this isn't right, a-and...the ice...it's hurting me!"

"That won't be the only thing hurting you if you don't man up and make more!" Gurushi snarled, stomping forward, she kicked Cern in the face then grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to look at his opponents. She then stomped down on one of his legs, making him scream. His fingers clawed at the sand, and a number of ice spikes rose up, one of them attempting to cut straight through those on the dragon's back while the others going for Firestorm's legs.

Ophile reacted quickly, tackling Ina off of Firestorm's back and down to the safety of the sand. He caught Werr's shirt in his teeth as he did so, making the human king fall with them. They landed easily, though Ina shrieked in pain as her ankle twisted underneath her. That action gave their position away, though; they were encased in a hollow block of ice in an instant, and pinned to the walls of said block. This both kept them from getting out, and it kept Firestorm from trying to burn down their new cage without burning them, too.

Cern screamed the entire time, Gurushi's foot digging painfully into his shattered bones.

"Werr!" Cynyr shouted, then stood up neatly on the rolling dragon's back, levering into a crouch. He reached out and gently touched Seria's shoulder, then lunged off of the dragon, snapping out his air wings. He winced, feeling his magic beginning to drain like water from a sink, then flew forward, twisting and weaving his lithe body around the ice spikes. As he twisted around one spike, he caught sight of his reflection in the smooth, cold surface. Suddenly, he wondered where he had seen these ice spikes before. It hit him a moment later.

Cern was using Luen's stolen mage powers.

Cynyr narrowed his eyes dangerously, turning his single one onto Gurushi.

Gurushi grinned cruelly, kicking Cern painfully in the gut. The Tartaran cried out weakly, then formed a line of ice-spikes between himself and Cynyr. "I don't want th...this..." Cern spluttered. "Pl-please, I...I hate this, make it...stop..."

"Silence, fool!" Gurushi commanded, nudging Cern in annoyance. "Just keep making more! Skewer them all!"

Poor Cern could only whimper and obey.

Cynyr darted around in rapid circles, avoiding every spike that came his way. He used his wings to slice through any spikes, making sure that everyone was protected. Firestorm was still blowing fire, melting the spikes nearly as fast as Cern was making them. Cynyr snarled and gave his wings a single flap, vanishing under their power. When he reappeared, he slammed into Gurushi and knocked her over backwards, pinning her to the ground with a boot to her neck. "Call. Off. The attack," he snapped, glaring down at her.