The Forgotten Zodiac

Diana stared at Jag. Of course, she had no idea what all it meant, but...now that these people knew about Lily and her unborn child, she was in danger. Yemara was their 'goddess of youth'. If sacrificing youth was honoring her, then the younger the child, the more honoring it may be. As such...an infant child was quite tempting for their sick goddess worship.

Diana did realize, however, that the next time the doors open, she would be taken to her death.

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((You can put yer other post here, and here is my response.))

"I'm ready," Werr said quietly, looking over at Cynyr and Seria. He was wearing a dark cloak, and had his staff tucked at his side so that the outside appearance took that of a sword. "We don't have much of a choice. Get dressed, Seria. I don't plan on waiting for too much longer."

Seria nodded, taking the long black cloak and pulling it over her head, making sure that the hood covered her ears. They all had longswords strapped to their belts, though Cynyr had kept his original golden blade from Cici. He figured it was enough to get in. "So what's our plan?" he asked. "We get in and start swinging swords around? Or do we go with more stealth?"

"Stealth, I should hope. Keir already secured our getting in, for the most part. Let's try to hold off on the 'swinging swords' part as much as we can." Werr nodded, taking the lead. He led the way to the weather drains. Third grate down. He peered in, not expecting to see much. He proved to be right; there was nothing there but a man who looked like he could eat an elephant in just a few bites.

"Who goes there?" The man grunted. Werr didn't say anything, just holding up the sword emblem.

"Fool's Crest," He added.

The man grunted and opened the door, stepping back to let them in. Werr stepped aside and let Cynyr take the lead.

The panther moved past without giving the man a single nasty look (a great improvment on his part), leading the others in quickly. He trudged off down the worn halls, trying not to draw suspicion. It worked and they caught no one's eye as they walked along. They looked like any old group of thieves and vagabonds, after all.

"Where do we start looking?" Werr asked before a few others in cloaks moved forward from behind them.

"Is the healer with you?" One of them said. "Ah, there she is. Come, you're very late. We're about ready to begin. Come," They grabbed Seria and pulled her away before she could object, taking her down a different hallway.

"Seria!" Cynyr said, but he quickly bit back on his words. He couldn't blow their cover. Not when they were so close. He growled, then grabbed Werr's wrist and said "Come on, let's find the others and then follow her. Hurry." He dragged Werr off down a side hall, following the scents of the people they had come to find.

Nate and Ophile were tucked into a room near the back, off to the side. Nate was unconscious, clearly injured (again) and tired. Ophile was conscious again, and stuck in a cage that was a size too small for him. He was curled up as tightly as he could, but he was still pressing up against the bars uncomfortably. "Werr?" The wolf rasped, jerking his head upright at once, and hitting it against the bars above him. "Cynyr? You're here! Let me out, quickly, I can't stand this cage."

Cynyr moved forward and carefully picked the lock to the wolf's cage with his claws, fiddling with it until he heard the solid click of the lock opening. He threw the door open and ushered Ophile out, burying his fingers into the wolf's furry neck to give him a brief memory transfer. He moved his hands up and worked over Ophile's ears, rubbing them up like someone would do to a dog, then moved over to pick Nate's lock. "What happened?" the panther asked Ophile, working until he heard the click of Nate's lock.

Ophile shook himself off, sighing heavily. "Well, when I woke up again, I was in here. No one would talk to me, nor did anyone touch me since I was already in here. I have no idea what happened...but then they marched in with Nate, who looks more hurt than before. But Seria...we must find her. I will carry Nate, let us move with haste."

Seria was taken to a back room. She was ushered in, and a few minutes later, none other than Diana was carried in. Bound with chains, crying silently. Her eyes wide and fearful, she didn't struggle or cry out. She didn't want to. She wanted to be strong. But it grew so much harder once she was chained down to the altar, lying on her back. It was that much more difficult when they came forward with jagged knives. They didn't strike yet, though...

Seria gasped and moved to run forward, but one of the robed people grabbed her shoulders and made her hold still.

Jag, still laying limply nearby, managed to weakly lift his head and say "Diana!" He slowly tried to push himself, growling at the robed people. "You sick monsters...!" he spat. "Sacrificing children for your disgustingly putrid excuse for a god? What god requires the death of innocent little children? You all are idiots for doing this! Idiots the lot of you!"

"Silence!" One of the larger humans snapped, marching into the Gryphon's cage, drawing a knife. "If you won't shut up, I'll make you shut up!" There was a long moment of apparent struggling, and the guard stepped away, holding something limp and feathery. Two somethings.

Jag's wings.

The guard tossed the bloody things aside, slamming the cage door shut again. "Now silence, or I will cut off something more important!" He snarled.

"Jag...j-just don't." Diana sniffed. "Please...they'll hurt you more. Just don't..."

"Listen to the girl, fool." One of the robed men snorted. "Shall we begin?"

Jag curled up in his cage, sobbing into his arms. Blood gushed from the jagged rips in his back where his wings used to be. It hurt so badly. So, so badly. He dug his hands into his hair, sobbing hard. Seria bit her lip, struggling to go forward to him. He rarely cried. True, it was more frequient than Cynyr, but still. Cynyr's was because he didn't really have the emotion for it. Jag's was because he wanted to be strong.

He was broken.

"We shall begin, then." The leader nodded, pulling back his hood. He was a rugged-looking man, with a seven-pointed starred mark burned onto his forehead. He moved forward, tearing the dress open with the knife and revealing her navel. She shook and whimpered as he cut the mark of Yemara into her stomach. When he was done, he stepped back. "Bring him forward, then." He said, turning to the others.

They nodded back, then parted, watching as two of them brought a familiar figure forward.

Luen struggled as much as he possibly could, his emerald eyes wide and panic-filled. They forced him to his knees in front of the alter, despite his protests. "Diana!" he shouted, his voice strained and weak, then one of them clapped a hand over his forehead and craned his head back, beginning a dark chant. His struggling stopped quickly. When the being moved their hand away, his eyes were a faint black color. They were distant and emotionless, and when they let go, he slowly stood up and walked forward slowly, not saying anything at all. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, flowing down his cheeks without stopping. He grabbed a knife, holding it tight in his single hand.

Diana watched him approach, her eyes flicking to the knife in his hand. He wouldn't hurt her. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. But...Diana remembered her nightmare. The one where Luen plunged the knife into her arm. It had hurt like he had really done it, but there was no blood and the pain had subsided after awhile. Had he...had Luen actually hurt her? Would Luen hurt her now? Diana wached with wide eyes, tears starting to form.

When Luen looked down at Diana, his eyes were solid black all around, including the whites. Just soulless black. He raised the knife, then suddenly froze, his entire arm quivering. He jerked sharply, his eyes flicking from black to green, then another of the cult members joined in the chant and his eyes resumed their black color.

The knife fell.

He slashed through Diana's arms and legs, letting gushes of blood out. The blood flowed thickly, splattering Luen's clothes.

More tears than ever poured down his cheeks, but still, he said nothing. He simply raised the knife and plunged it into her stomach, right in the center of the mark the man had cut there.

Diana let out a scream. Again and again. Of panic, fear, pain. She fell limp when the knife landed in her stomach, weeping loudly. There was a collective gasp from the hooded figures, and the leader stumbled back when something happened. The blood moved on its own, forming in the center of the room. A circle, then a line straight through the middle.

The mark of Tartarus.

With a flash of darkness, a familiar figure was sitting in the center of the blood puddle. Forin Dulce. A dark orb formed around Diana in an instant, dark claws growing over Forin's normal ones. He moved quickly, tearing Diana's attacker away from her and throwing him across the room. He turned, casting a glare at the hooded figures.

"I, Forin Dulce, claim this girl as my own! No longer will I tolerate her screams," He slashed at a group of them, keeping them at bay while he was working out how to get out. There didn't seem to be much of any escape...and Diana was dying, bleeding out.

In an instant, the chanting halted and Luen's eyes regained their emerald color. He gasped, glancing around in a daze, then felt himself be grabbed up by something from behind.

Cynyr pushed the kirin up and shoved him towards the door, then used his wind powers to slice through Jag's bars. He picked up the unconscious gryphon, then turned and shouted "I'm bringing this room down! Everyone, get to the hallway!"

"Forin!" Seria shouted, ripping free of the hooded people. "This way, bring her this way!" She gestured madly at him, already heading towards the said door. She pushed Luen through, ignoring how he crumpled into a heap in the corner, dazed.

Forin jerked his head up. Of course. He turned and lifted the orb, carrying it and Diana out the door and to the others. He didn't stop there, letting the orb float behind him while he picked up Seria and ran for it. He didn't stop until he pushed past the door guard, bursting out into the sunset. Even then, he didn't stop until they reached an alley, where he was certain they were safe. The orb melted partially, then enveloped Seria. Forin didn't say anything. He didn't feel that he needed to.

Seria got to work immediately, putting her hands over Diana's little belly and throwing her energy into a powerful healing spell. She chanted softly, keeping perfectly in-time, and the wound slowly stopped bleeding. She switched to Diana's arms, healing the slash wounds, then moved to her legs, making sure nothing was bleeding anymore before moving to heal her stomach wound. She worked quietly, then looked up at Forin and managed a small smile. Then she went back to work.