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Post by Felypsa on Jul 3, 2008 17:30:02 GMT -6
oOc| like Levi, I tend to write things so that they're....long. Don't say I didn't warn you ):<
Name: Eris
Gender: Female
Mythological Relevance: Eris, the Greek Goddess of Discord, famously started the Trojan War, using a single golden apple. In mythology, Eris is also known as "Strife."
Age: 785
Species: Druin
Appearance: Covered in scars and battle-wounds. One diagonally through her left eye, three parallel lines on her right cheek, missing the tip of her right ear and the tip of her tail, and walks with a slight limp because of an injury in her left hindleg. These are the most prominent; there are many others along her body, the marks of war. Her eyes are the vivid color of the bloodred sky at sunset; her underbelly is covered with scales (the color of fresh blood) and the rest of her is enshrouded in fur (color of dark crimson, thickly gathered blood). Her enormous draconic wings are black leather outlined in deep scarlet. She has four horns upon her head, two pointing straight up to the sky next to her ears, two curving horizontally around her ears and the first two horns, their tips just within her peripheral vision if she looks straight ahead.
Known Magic: Element: Earth/Stone. She has the ability to create tremors through earth and rock, causing earthquakes and avalanches. To an extent, she can also manipulate the direction and volume of these tremors. (N.B.: She is NOT impervious to her own creations; in other words, she can be affected by the earthquakes just as much as anyone else.) She can take the energy of the earth if there is enough of it. This energy manifests itself as healing energy when she's in a lush, green place, like a forest or jungle. As far as she knows, she can only heal herself when this happens.
Personality: Defensive, sensitive, belligerent. Tough and always ready for action. Passionate, unyielding, unbreakable. Doesn't take crap from anyone. A survivor of many of life's cruelties, and both proud and bitter because of it. Reserved, cold, seemingly impenetrable. Not evil, not good, simply strong. Her greatest weakness is also her greatest strength: wrath. Abhors the sight of happiness, for it reminds her of what she never had (though she would claim she would never need to have it). Believes that pain is the only thing that makes you strong.
History: Eris remembers that she has siblings, three of them, but she does not know who they are. She can't even really remember their names. The name of Gubraitha, however, is burned into her memory, whether she likes it or not. One of Eris's first clear memories is of a mountain cave, where she and her mother hid away for a time. Every day, her mother went hunting for mountain goats, which they mostly lived on, and sometimes, on bad days, insects or plants. One day Gubraitha did not return, and young Eris was left alone.
Since her mother had not taught her where to find the goats on which she survived, Eris had to hunt by trial and error. She received many bruises from the rams' horns and hooves during her attempts. As time went on, she was slowly starving to death, feeding on whatever bugs and plants she could find. But these were not enough for a growing young Druin like herself. She most definitely did not want to die, so she kept on. The day that she killed her first goat -- a small kid, actually -- was the proudest day of her life.
Ever since her mother left, she did not have a companion to speak to, so she simply stayed silent. Day in and day out, all Eris focused on was her survival. It was not until the demons came to the mountains that she realized she had to leave. And even then, it was not until she was attacked by a pair of slavers that she realized she was even in danger. They tried to enslave her, for they could see that despite her youth, she was able-bodied and strong. She fought back with tooth and claw, and more demons came to subdue her. She received many wounds and was bleeding profusely, but she refused to give up.
It was then that the mountain responded to her rage. Her element was of earth and stone, and as her fury grew, it was activated. An earthquake rocked the mountain ledge on which she fought for her life and freedom, sending many demons tumbling down. Furthermore, a rocky avalanche came to her aid, knocking down the rest of them. It took her too, but she was amazed to find that she could easily stay above it, jumping from rock to tumbling rock. She still slammed into the base of the mountain like the others, but because of her evasive ability, she did not die.
Despite her many broken bones and wounds, Eris forced herself to keep moving before other demons came to take her. She flew into the air and stayed afloat on thermals for as long as she could, for both her wings were miraculously whole. She learned how to catch and eat the birds that flew in the sky. One night, she landed and slept in a forest, and when she awoke, all of her wounds were somehow healed fully -- except for one bone in her hind leg, which had been smashed almost beyond repair. She also sustained many scars from her near-death battle.
The forest had healed her hind leg to basic functionability, though she still had to walk with a limp. Eris decided to live in the forest until she was forced to move again. There, prey animals were much more diverse and plentiful, so she had to time to figure out her magic and hone in on her skills. After her run-in with the demons, who had been her first living contact since her mother left her, she was very mistrusting of others. She got into fights over nothing, believing that everyone who spoke to her meant her harm.
Then she met the ever-cheerful, ever-persistent talking sparrow, Esprit. Esprit ("Essy" for short) seemed to stick to Eris no matter where she went. She was an idealist and an optimist, and her constant reminders to Eris to "look on the bright side of life" resulted in several near-death experiences by Eris's claw or fang. Nevertheless, she doggedly followed Eris around, talking about her short life and raining her optimistic philosophy on the tough Druin. Though Eris was annoyed beyond belief by the little creature, she slowly began to see that not every person in the world was intrinsically evil. She became, if not trusting, then at least less mistrusting and belligerent toward strangers.
One day, as all animals must, Essy died. Since the sparrow was the closest thing Eris had ever had to a friend, she found herself mourning the bird's loss and retreating further into herself. Nevertheless, Essy had made a lasting impression; and Eris still occasionally dreams of the small bright-eyed, chattering sparrow, doling out her familiar optimistic advice.
Since the forest she lived in reminded her too much of Essy, Eris decided it was time to move on. A strong, cold, and powerful Druin, unwittingly bearing the legacy of War, is now wandering across the world, looking for the next place she can call "home." |
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Post by [ L ] e.v.i.a.t.h.a.n. on Jul 4, 2008 23:43:37 GMT -6
  {Please forgive me for the crappiness of the pic x3 I worked for a good two days on it (Yes, I am a bad artist, hehe), and we have a really crappy scanner. I ended up taking a pic of the drawing, then tried to get the shadows and stuff out with a bit of cleanup using photoshop X.x Hopefully you all get the main idea though, the photo didn't really do her justice.} Name: Eris Apollo Apollo
~Enyo~Gender:FaeAge:719 WintersSpecies:DruinElements:Fire, Darkness, Chaos, MetalLineage:Sire – Apollo VII
Dam - GubraithiaSiblings:Tartarus, Oblivionic, GaeaMate:NoneOffspring:NonePack:NoneRank:None
Appearance:
Although the youngest of the four siblings, Eris is every bit as striking and unique as each of her brothers and her sister. For her age, by Druin terms, she is of average stature, yet what stands out the most about this average femme is her coat. Besides having the distinctive features typical to all of her species (the plated underbelly and long, elegant tail), it is the strange color scheme that truly sets her apart from the rest. To begin with, she inherited the regal features that both her parents possessed, her snout and features delicately carved and refined, tapering from the tip of her dark obsidian muzzle to a pair of dazzlingly golden eyes, flecked with slivers of silver like so many ice shard trapped within their gilded depths. Despite her young age, her eyes seem to hold the wisdom and untold secrets of millennia passed, captivating and mysterious at the same time. Near the base of her head, a pair of long and elegant horns, reminiscent of those of a gazelle, twist in a smooth pattern from base to tip, ending in daggerlike prongs that point outwards slightly, in opposite directions. It would be best not to be fooled by the fragile appearance of these appendages, for they are, in reality, harder than any horn on any mortal beast, woven of material stronger even than diamond. They are a dark steel gray in hue and have a faint glisten to them, like rocks tumbled by a stream. Two long, tapering ears can be seen just below the horns, elegant in their erectness.
Beginning from the tip of her slender snout, short, almost velvety fur darker than a raven’s wing, yet equally glossy, ripples down her entire frame like liquid obsidian. This, in itself, is not all too uncommon amongst Druin, but it is the pattern arching across the ebon fur than truly stands out. The vibrant hue almost shocking against the dark base, a splash of swirling gold slashes elegant designs across her fur, almost as if some exotic constellation had lost its way in its dance across the night sky and become trapped in her lusterous pelt. The clash of gold on black creates a look of intense vibrancy, yet at the same time, only adds to the royal splendor bestowed upon her appearances by her parents. Complementing the array of colors is a long ridge of large, plate-like scales typical to all Druin that runs the length of her underside, starting from the top of her throat and reaching almost all the way to the tip of her long tail. It is tinted the crimson of freshly fallen blood, its hue brazen and rich, each scale perfectly set, so as each interlocks perfectly with the next. But what is a Druin if it doesn’t have a mane? Eris’s mane is not merely for show, as most other Druins’ are: In fact, it has aided her countless times, not only in her use of magic, but in combat as well. Since Druin have well-guarded underbellies, one most common way to seriously injure, or even kill one, is to simply leap upon its back and snap its spine by breaking its neck (of course, this is no simple feat at all, even for another fellow Druin). Eris though, has a mane of ephemeral, twisting shades of gold, orange and red; the colors of fire. Not only does her mane move naturally by itself, contorting itself into the very likeness of flames, but it also has the strange capability of taking on the characteristics of fire as well. As her will pleases, her mane, which extends all the way to the end of her bush tail, can shift from the substantiality of fur to that of a blazing inferno, an ability that has been crucial to her own survival in battles long gone.
The vividly-colored femme carries herself upon long, yet muscular limbs, her gait smooth and catlike in grace, giving her the ability to move almost silently when need be. Each large, silky paw is tipped with lethally curved daggers the same tone as her horns, as they are made of the same material. Although they have seen plenty of grime and gore in their time, both they, and the rest of their owner, remains disturbingly unmarked or stained by blood, although the reason why is still not apparent. For one of her size and stature, Eris is surprisingly strong, yet at the same time, has all the speed and uncanny flexibility of a serpent. This makes her a formidable opponent in physical combat, for that is the area in which she excels. She can also sprout a pair of large wings at will, and when they are visible, they take the form of expansive zephyr wings, a large, primary pair near her shoulder-blades, and the second set closer to her hindquarters and considerably smaller. The primaries on each wing are gilt with patterns of gold that match those found on her obsidian coat, and swirl inward towards the base of her wings. These appendages are somewhat delicate, as her wings are hollow-boned, like those of birds, and built more for speed than power. This makes them fairly easy game for an attacker, given that they can catch her first. All-in-all though, her striking appearance is a testament to the fiery fae’s nature, mysterious, unpredictable, exotic and deadly.
Personality:
The first thing that one would notice about this fae’s personality is simply her solitary nature. Her past has taught her that living with a pack or family can only bring woe, as there is more to lose than there is to gain when loved ones are at stake. She is withdrawn from society, although not to the point of being antisocial or antagonistic. Even though she has a disturbingly flawless ability to hide her emotions, she can be an extremely good actress as well. She can be persuasive, cunning, sly, wicked, sensual, or simply impassive in the blink of an eye, whichever is called for in a situation. She always carries herself with an air of dignity, although it bodes not of an over-inflated ego. She simply bears herself with the pride befitting of one her rank and prowess.
One of her most conspicuous traits is not her pride, nor her acting skills though. Of all things, she lives on vengeance and retribution, having an uncanny ability to hold a grudge for centuries, lifetimes, in necessary. She is neither one to forgive, nor to forget, even if she never mentions the said subject again for decades at a time. Besides this being one of her weaknesses, she has one even greater fault, one that could one day bring about her downfall. In battle, she has one great flaw: Besides being extremely obstinate about things that she has set her mind on, such as winning, she can get so carried away by these, sometimes unreachable goals that she simply doesn’t see sense. In times such as these, Eris becomes all but a berserker on the battlefield, risking all and holding back none in an all-out battle, waged not only against her opponent, but against herself as well. This kind of behavior, although highly destructive, is extremely draining upon herself as well, and there is almost no way of reaching her when she has ascended to this stage. The only outcome possible is either her victory, or her downfall.
History:
~*~ Chapter One ~*~
Warning
There was not much that Eris could remember from a youth long gone. True, she herself is still young, by Druin terms, being only a little over seven centuries of age, almost a blink of an eye for the ancient Druin out there who have lived to tell the tales of creation, enslavement and salvation. Although youthful in appearance to other eyes, the abyss of the femme’s golden gaze, bottomless, cryptic, and all but devoid of emotion, hides a mind that has lived a life filled with more secrets than any millennia-old Druin could boast. For the greater part of her life, she has played all but no role in her own fate, but as the times change, the tables are turning, and the hunter will soon become the hunted.
The earliest reaches of the dark fae’s mind brought her back to the grueling days of puphood, each day another fight for survival, another dawn who’s light only brought with it uncertainty, uncertainty of the present, the future, and yes, even the past. A litter of four pups, let alone Druin pups, raised by one parent was no small feat: From as early as she could remember, the young Eris and her siblings had been brought up by their mother, Gubraithia. Being the youngest of the four by at least a century or two, she didn’t remember as much about her sorrowfully short childhood as her older brothers, yet one could argue that perhaps it was all for the better. Even in that short time though, the little femme had grown extremely close to her mother, trailing her about their small, makeshift home like a miniature, crimson and gold gilt shadow. It was almost as if the young pup knew that what safety and protection her mother could provide her at this age was only fleeting, would not last but so long. Despite her innocence, she had no idea as to what her future held for her.
As the ‘baby sister’ of the little family, the young Eris, unlike so many other youngest siblings, did not harass her older brothers and sister, nor clamor for all of her mother’s attention like almost all other pups. Instead, she was a disconcertingly quiet pup from birth, and never could she remember a single instance in which she cried. She had never known her father, so in the days of puphood, when there was nothing more for a youngster to do to amuse themselves (this was during times when her mother went out to hunt and provide for the small family, not allowing Eris to tag along with her), she would simply find a peaceful spot in the woods and while the time away, dreaming of what a strong and handsome father her’s must have been. In her mind, she idolized him, a trait that she would carry for the rest of her life. Revere and respect the strong. At her young age, she needed some kind of idol, some deity to look up to, and this she found in the father she had never met, at least, as far as she had known. Perhaps it was for the good, for her image of her father was perfect in every little way, flawless. These effigies in her mind were formed, carefully sculpted, both from the stories that her mother and brothers used to tell of Apollo, coupled with the folklore and fairytales about heroic saviors of the Druin race, and finally, the morals and principles that the pup grew to amass, a sort of code of honor that she strictly stood by. Although she would never see Apollo VII again, he had played one of the largest roles in her life, one that would make her who she would be in the future.
Life was difficult for the Druin family, without the support and protection of a pack, but they sustained themselves, due mostly to Gubraithia’s determined, unwavering effort to single-handedly provide for her four growing pups. They helped out whenever possible, and although Eris was far too small to be of much help, she would do little, seemingly insignificant favors, which, although may have seemed trivial, meant the world to the pup. The life she had been provided with, although not much, was the only life she knew, and being as young and innocent as she was, it was the only existence out there, as far as she was aware of. There was no bitterness in her soul over the cruel fate that had befallen her family, as she didn’t know what it was like to live a normal life, so, when the change, virulent and excruciating change, came to wreak havoc upon the life that she knew, she fought it, instinctively knowing that if she allowed change to tear apart her life, she would never be able to patch the ragged shreds back together again.
She was right.
The day began no different from any other day, and each Druin carried through with their own morning routine. Not more than a few minutes after Gubraithia had awoken, the youngest of the litter had latched onto her shadow, taking her customary position in trailing her mother, large, piercing golden eyes silently taking in everything that her mother did. There was surprising intelligence and clarity within the gilded irises, unspoken knowledge and secrets hidden behind the youthful gaze. Everything commenced as usual that day, and by noon, Gubraithia had disappeared into the dark forest in search of food for her family. For the next hour or so, Eris simply wandered aimlessly about the clearing that marked their home, pausing to linger as she absentmindedly watched a large beetle trundle by, watching quietly with a calm, calculating contemplation as her burly older brothers tumbled across the dusty ground, each struggling to overpower the other. After a while, she made her way back to the cave, settling for a nap while she awaited her mother’s return.
It turned out that it took Gubraithia much longer than usual to return to her children that day, but when she did, Eris, being surprisingly sensitive to the emotions of others, immediately knew that something was wrong. Gubraithia was empty-handed, and her proud banner hung limply with defeat, a gesture that the pup had never seen in her mother before. Quite frankly, it frightened her greatly to see her mother, the only creature in this world that she could count on for love and protection, seem so crushed. Although she was a femme of few words, comforting Mama was a priority. Bounding over to her in half-sized leaps, the pup nuzzled the much larger female Druin, rubbing against her cheek soothingly.
”Mama, what’s wrong? Did you miss a catch? Don’t worry, we’ll still love you as much as we did before.”
Her wide eyes shone with innocent sincerity, having no idea what the gravity of the situation was. Gubraithia refused to tell the young pup what had happened though, simply saying that the five of them had to leave here immediately, that they were going on a voyage. Although this idea excited Eris greatly, she knew by the speed at which her mother prepared for the journey that this matter was urgent beyond her imagination. Without taking anything with them, the family fled the area as quickly as their paws would carry them, Eris, being the smallest, swinging violently from her mother’s jaws as the miles dropped behind them.
Soon though, they came to a stop to catch their breath, anxiety written clearly across Gubraithia’s regal features. Then, she did the unthinkable. Hardly able to believe her own, large ears, Eris watched in horror as her mother ordered her brothers, Tartarus and Oblivionic, to leave, to find a life for themselves. For her whole life, Eris had always had her family there for her, a family that provided her with a sense of stability, but now, in the blink of an eye, Mother was going to tear that apart by abandoning her sons. Somewhere in her subconscious, the pup had known that they would have to leave sometime, but now, in such a desperate situation when they needed each others’ support the most, Gubraithia was sending them away! She remained silent, but in her mind, she silently pleaded for her brothers’ health and safety. Mournful golden eyes swinging from her mother’s jaws watched for the last time as her brothers ran off, disappearing into the all-encompassing forest. Once again, they were alone.
~*~ Chapter Two ~*~
Separation
The small trio, a mother and her two daughters, forged ahead, ignoring all hunger and fatigue, steely determination focused only on the path and what possibly lay ahead for them. By now, Eris had guessed that they were being pursued by unknown enemy, and with this realization came fear. Despite her misgivings, the pup never made a single protest against her mother’s actions. If she didn’t trust her, well, who was left out there for her to trust? Before long though, the exhaustion was beginning to show clearly in Gubraithia’s movements, having run countless miles, distances which, even for a Druin, not to mention one bearing two half-grown daughters, was extremely strenuous. When there simply wasn’t any way to continue, they came to a stop again, this time by a large, gently flowing river. Parched from the hard journey, Eris padded on legs wobbly from jolting and misuse over to the clear water, gulping down the cooling liquid like life’s blood. During this time though, Gubraithia hadn’t even paused to quench her thirst. Instead, she was nosing around in the woods nearby, as if searching for something. As curiosity got the better of her, Eris padded over to watch. A few minutes later, her mother reappeared, this time, dragging a large plank of roughly hewn wood behind her. Dragging it into the water, it dipped slightly, then leveled out again, a small raft-shaped thing. Before the youngest pup knew what was happening, her older sister, Gaea, was set adrift upon the wood, off to lands unknown. There was a heartrending sadness in the remaining child’s eyes as she watched her only other sibling float away, looking almost like a fairy-sprite, drifting off into a world unknown upon her makeshift boat. The only goodbye she could muster was the long, searching, pleading look that emanated from her golden eyes before her sister disappeared around a bend in the river.
With Gaea gone as well, Gubraithia lifted Eris again, and the pup could see the anguish in her mother’s face, seeing another of her children gone. They could only pray that Gaea would have a better chance of survival than they, after all, the river would hide her scent from the pursuers. Although the pup offered to run alongside her mother, Gubraithia knew that she would never keep up. Grasping her scruff again, the two fled towards the distant mountains, adrenaline and terror fueling their footsteps. Gubraithia ran through the night, pausing only to drink briefly before continuing. Food and shelter didn’t matter now. Only avoiding capture did.
Finally, they made it to the small chain of mountains that bordered their lands. If they could make it over the jagged peaks, they would be somewhat safe from the demon wolves, at least for the time being. In Gubraithia’s weakened state though, her energy spent from helping her children to escape, there was no way that she could carry her last daughter with her all the way up the sheer mountain face. Searching for a place where they could at least spend the night and recuperate from the journey, the two hunted for a safe haven together. Finally, they came across a recently abandoned human dwelling. It most likely belonged to one of the nomad families that occasionally made their way through this territory, but that made no difference to the exhausted Druin. What was important was that the stench of humans would easily mask their scent, at least for a brief while, hopefully long enough for them to rest. Eris felt rather uncomfortable inside the claustrophobia-spawning hole, but it was safer than being out in the open, so she bore it, although not without a measure of distress. Bedding down together on the furs that formed a makeshift bed on the dusty floor, mother and daughter nestled down together to see it through the night.
Sometime just past midnight, the haunting sounds of howling somewhere nearby started the young Druin awake, her bright eyes flickering fearfully in the darkness as she huddled against her mother. As she listened, the sounds only drew ever nearer, now permeated by piercing barks and yips. The hunting throng had arrived.
Eris awoke her mother, who immediately came to full alertness at the sounds of the pursuing pack. Although the young femme expected to immediately get on the move again, she was surprised when Gubraithia told her to remain where she was, and to hide herself within the house somewhere where she wouldn’t be found. Together, they quickly found the place in the small hut where the human’s scent was strongest, and tucking Eris carefully into a small corner (it turned out to be the humans’ bathroom), Gubraithia took off into the night. She knew that if she and her daughter traveled together, there would be no way they would be able to get away, so, she did the only thing possible: At least ensure the survival of her one daughter. The pup listened, stilling her shivers of terror, as the excited sounds of baying rushed past the house, most likely chasing her brave mother off, deep into the woods. For the rest of the night, she huddled where she was, the stench almost nonexistent to her in her fright, waiting for her mother to return. This she was certain of: Gubraithia had never let her down, had always been there for her when she needed her the most. There was no way that she would abandon her only remaining child now.
Mother would return.
~*~ Chapter Three ~*~
Capture
Light filtered weakly in from the outdoors, illuminating a sleepless night, its weak fingers just barely touching upon the dark femme’s coat, besmirched with a light coating of filth and dust that had accumulated over the night. The youngest daughter of Apollo VI and Gubraithia had lasted through the long, lonely hours of darkness alone, the first night that she had been without the comfort of home or family. Although the sounds of the pursuing pack had quickly died out, Eris hadn’t been able to catch a wink of sleep, what with the turmoil in her mind and her distress. Daylight was creeping back again, yet Gubraithia still hadn’t returned. Although a day and a night without any food had left the pup famished, the thought of leaving didn’t even cross her mind. Through her fear, there was still the steely determination to wait until her mother returned: After all, there was no doubt in her mind that Gubraithia would return.
Minutes turned into hours, and the shadows moved slowly across the room as the day passed on into night, then day again. Finally, after four days and five nights, hunger and exhaustion moved the weakened pup to abandon her hiding spot. Feeble from the long spell of waiting, she could hardly drag herself from her retreat, whimpering weakly. She would have waited for longer, but finally, her will to survive overcame her determination to wait for her mother. She knew that if she lingered, she would eventually lose the ability to move, and therefore, the ability to go and find Gubraithia. While she had waited, countless possibilities of why her mother had not returned went through her mind. She came to the conclusion that her mother would never have kept her waiting for this long, not without good reason. The only way she would see her again was if she went to find her. Despite the fact she was hardly strong enough to support herself on her own feet, her obstinacy gave her the strength to move on.
Unfortunately, Eris knew that there was no way that she could survive on her own in the wilderness at this age, especially considering the state that she was in. For one her age, she knew her own limits surprisingly well, and there was no doubt in her mind that she would not last more than a day or two more unless she got help. Finding her mother within that time seemed near impossible, but there didn’t seem to be any other solution. If she didn’t find aid soon, she would perish alone out here.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Since there was no way that she would be able to find Gubraithia in this amount of time (there was no telling how far she may have led her pursuers), there was only one option open to her that might work, if she were to survive. Every movement was agony to her, but her resolve finally led her to the fading trail of the demon wolves, one way that continued up the mountain, the other leading back the way they had come. Eris knew that if she followed their trail, she would eventually make it to their starting point. Although the possibility that they had captured her mother was low, it was a significantly more likely possibility than Eris finding her in her aimless meanderings. Even if they didn’t have Gubraithia, she knew that she stood a better chance of survival at the hands of the demon wolves, no matter how evil they were. It was a chance she would have to take if she were to live to see her mother again. Thus, aiming her course to follow the dying trail, the young Druin struggled back the way she and her mother had come, half-dragging herself down the mountainside.
It was only sheer luck that kept Eris out of harm’s way in her excruciating journey back to the demon packlands. It was a miracle that she wasn’t killed or eaten by some predator, after all, she made a pretty easy target for any creature with half a brain, being half-dead as she was already. Fate had it that a second search party had come, following the trail of the first, perhaps because they had never returned. The bumbling pup, blinded by starvation and exhaustion, came down on the same trail from the opposite direction, and the inevitable collision between the two groups happened somewhere halfway between the packlands and the human dwelling in which she had been hiding. Even through the stench that clung to the pup’s fur, the demon wolves could sense the link between her and the escapee Druin, and immediately surrounded her, taunting her cruelly before finally bringing her down, a feat that was not difficult. Eris had no energy to put up any sort of resistance, and after all, they could be bringing her to Gubraithia.
”What’s the matter with the ickle baby?”
they sneered coldly in her snarling face.
”Lost your mama?”
”What have you done with my mother?”
This only brought more jeering laughs to the maws of the dark wolves, reveling in the young Druin’s weakness, taking the advantage to torture one who was helpless against their torments.
”Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. We’ve got her all taken care of.”
The lead male laughed ruthlessly before giving the order to incapacitate her.
”Bring her down.”
Although Eris only put up feeble resistance, there was one important lesson that she learned that day.
How to hate.
The fiery passion that blazed in her golden, silver-speckled eyes was enough to turn the lead male’s gaze away from her own. If looks could kill, that demon would have been as dead as a doornail.
The faction trussed up the femme more tightly than necessary with their own magical bonds, giving her her own escort to keep watch of her. There was no need for the group to continue searching for the others when they were bringing this prize in, one of the last remaining children of the Lord Apollo VII.
~*~ Chapter Four ~*~
Providence
Eris was restored to the demon pack in the place of her father, except, instead of taking his forsaken position of army general, she was thrown into the lowly life of a wretch and slave, receiving only the most menial of care for her wounds and injuries accumulated from both the journey from home as well as the rough treatment she had received from her capturers on the expedition back. Thus, injuries that would easily have healed within a few days under normal care took weeks, even months to mend, but even with these handicaps, her ‘masters’ discovered how much more difficult it was to handle her than they had originally thought. It turned out that the pack indeed hadn’t gotten a hold of Gubraithia, as far as she knew, nor her other siblings. She was constantly reminded though, of what a traitor and coward her father was, how he had deserted the ranks here, how he was brutally murdered, the event that spurred Gubraithia into hiding her children far away from these lands. Although they all but controlled the fae’s life, they found that nothing they could do could break her spirit, even in the face of torture, both mental and physical. Eris bore all of the suffering with a disturbing silence, refusing to allow even a whimper to escape her jaws at their claws. Her fury though, emanated through her smoldering gaze, the windows to her emotions.
In the servitude to these devils though, the femme learned two crucial lessons that would help her become who she would one day be: The first, she found quickly that letting her emotions show, no matter how furious she was, rapidly prompted even more punishment, each more merciless than the next. The more she resisted, the more cruelly she was punished. Thus, she learned how to turn her features into a near flawless mask, until even her brilliant golden eyes seemed cold and detached from the world, hiding her mind and soul within the refuge and safety that her blank visage provided. From within her disguise, she could fume and rage at her tormentors all she wanted, although she discovered quickly how to hold her temper in check, an achievement somewhat similar to reining in the force of a tsunami, bottling up her anger to simply wait for the perfect moment to exact her revenge. The second lesson that she learned was harder even than keeping her anger in check: Since the early days of her puphood, she had always looked up to her father, her idol inside her mind for strength and support. She found now though, that there was nothing that false idols could do to aid her in her current situation. Letting go of that was like losing a deity, losing her family and all that was familiar to her all over again. It was painful, but she was stronger for it afterwards. She learned how only to depend on herself; There was never anyone there for her in the life that she now led, a life that pitted her, alone, against the whole of the damned pack.
For the first few years, the demon wolves tried to overcome and subdue her, to no avail. The use of Druin as pleasure tools was a common sport, and many found Eris an object of particular interest. They found her hot-blooded, high-spirited temperament exciting, each male taking it into his mind that he would be the one that could easily crush the feisty bitch. As a servant, they never even allowed her near any of the other Druin in the pack, not that they wanted anything to do with her. She meant trouble, and if any of them befriended her, that meant suffering on their part as well. As each male took his turn with her, the demons quickly discovered that she was much more powerful than any of them would ever have expected. Over the years, they had forgotten how forceful her father, Apollo, once was. Apparently, she had inherited his ferocity, and for every male that decided to give her a fling, there was a male that was overcome, overwhelmed, and in certain cases, killed, as quickly as they came.
For another number of years, the dark fae continued to grow. Most of the demon wolves had decided simply to let her be, to confine her to solitude, and she became something of an attraction, like some beast at a zoo, incarcerated in a cell far too small for her, too strong for any of her attempts to free herself. One day though, the pack took it into their minds to use her for sport, and in the manner of the great battles once held in the Coliseum, they pitted her against all sorts of beasts and leviathans, ranging from big cats to dragons, and once, even a Colossus, a battle that the fae nearly didn’t live to tell. Through these clashes, the demon wolves discovered the fighting ability that her father had passed down to his daughter, a force even more highly concentrated in the femme than in the great general himself. Slowly, ever so slowly but surely, the slave rose in the ranks of the demon wolves. It was not necessarily the fate that she would have asked for, but she knew that with rank came power, and with power came freedom. One day, when they least expected it, she would turn upon them and cut every last one of the bastards down until they wallowed in their own blood and guts for every second of agony they had put her and her family through.
~*~ Chapter Five ~*~
Deception
Like her father once had, Eris gained renown within the pack over the decades, and finally, after years of effort, replaced her father as the Head General of the pack’s armies. Every now and then, she was sent out with her faction to overcome other packs and to seize land, and she became a great asset to the demons for her remarkable capability in battle.
One year, a few centuries after her arrival to the packlands, she was sent overseas to foreign lands with her most elite band of Druin fighters on the pretense of quashing a rebel uprising in one of the colonies that the demon wolf pack ran. When they arrived though, they found no uprising of any sort, but instead, an ambush, countless times stronger than her faction was capable of handling. Their opponents were of a species that none of them had ever seen the likes of, an avian sort of creature that at the same time, somewhat resembled a lion or a dragon. It was not only their outlandish appearance and sheer numbers that caught Eris off guard, but also the lustrous, plated metal that embellished their heads, hooked beaks, and even more impressively, adorned their powerful wings with delicate, yet surprisingly strong material. To put it in short terms, her division was subjugated in the blink of an eye, despite the valiant resistance that they put up against their enemy.
It turned out that the Beta of the demon wolf pack, in all of his traitorous greed, had struck a deal with these strange creatures. They had promised him the most dark and secret of magical abilities, but only in exchange for his head general. She had caught their eye, both with her prowess in battle as well as her exotic appearance, and being the cocky, arrogant bastard that he was, the Beta had agreed to the deal, more than willingly sending Eris and her warriors into the trap. Seeing how stupid the male was, it was obvious that the ploy was a trick, but being as egotistical as he was, he fell for the ruse, losing the pack’s most valued warrior and their pride.
Meanwhile, Eris had once again been turned into a slave, and although she had expected the same rough treatment she had received from the demons, she was astonished to find that the strange creatures, which she came to learn were called Rhearials, treated her with the respect and care due to a POW of utmost importance. Thus, she came to learn much more about this unique species, their customs and hierarchy, and more importantly, their armor. The way that they worked metal was an art that was more advanced, by manyfold, than any such development in her homelands. The Rhearials were extremely potent magic-users, each being born with more magical ability than even a Druin possessed. This ability allowed them to work with metals in ways that Eris had never seen the likes of before in her life, molding, melting and shaping the indestructible elements with astounding ease.
Eris found her life repeated once more during her stay with the Rhearials as she slowly ascended the ranks once more within their hierarchy. For a species so strong, the Rhearials were strangely peace-loving, and only learned combat for self-defense purposes. As time passed, they revealed some of their secrets to the still-young Druin femme, who gradually grew more comfortable with the strange customs of these lands. After a few decades, Eris had made her mark upon them, being a renown warrior and general, who led an army of both Druin (those who had journeyed there with her) and Rhearials, whose trust and respect she earned over the years. As a gift to her, a golden helm was presented to her on the hundred-year mark of her arrival to these lands, a helmet worked from metal harder than any currently known substance, a process that had taken even the most talented Rhearials decades to finally finish. It was carefully molded to fit her head, which differed greatly from those of their species, and the femme wore it with the pride befitting a queen. Ever since that day, she has never removed that helmet, both out of respect to her generous hosts as well as the sentimental value that it gained: It quickly became as much a part of her as any of her body parts or her magic. The Rhearials would have crafted the intricate wing-guards that they themselves sported for her as well, but her wings only appeared when she needed them, she graciously declined their offer.
~*~ Chapter Six ~*~
Return
For a few more decades, life continued the same way for her in those distant lands, completely cut off from her homelands. Every now and then, she thought about her siblings and her mother, wondering where they were and how they could be faring. Nothing would have changed and Eris probably would have lived out the rest of her life amongst her avian brethren if her Fate had not once again put its cruel hand into her life. A sudden epidemic struck the flock of Rhearials, quickly wiping out almost their whole population. Strangely, all the Druin that were living with them were immune to this peculiar foreign disease, and despite their efforts, could only watch helplessly as their friends died like flies around them. Soon, the place was only a fraction of its former glory, a hollow shell without its former inhabitants. There was nothing left here for Eris but memories and sadness. Once again, she had lost whatever semblance to family she had.
Finally, she decided that it was time to return with the remaining Druin to their homelands. Rallying them to her, together, they flew the perilous journey back to her birthland, determined to set right the injustices done to her all those centuries ago. It didn’t take long to find the pack that once called her their own. Now that those who called themselves her masters were dead and gone, she and her battalion were no longer servants to any. They were finally free of all the old bonds and shackles that had held them, and in all their glory, they returned to the pack that had once wronged them. Being trained solely for the purpose of combat, overwhelming the small demon pack was now as easy as cutting into butter with a carving knife. The demon wolves fell before them, and Eris restored the pack to the Druins. Although those that had served under her implored her to remain with them and take charge of the newly-formed Druin pack herself, she had long since decided that she simply wasn’t suited to pack life. There was too much to lose and too little to gain from living with a family, and so, she bid them farewell, choosing the wandering path of Fate that would once again carry her drifting self into the tides of Destiny.
Magic and Skills:
Fire – Arguably the most powerful of her magical capabilities, perhaps besides Darkness, Eris can twist, form and command flames to her bidding. Besides manipulating that which already exists, she can also conjure it out of thin air, with the aid of her fiery mane, although it requires more energy output. The prowess over this ability is daunting though, and, until now, uncontested by any other.
Darkness – Rivaled only by her ability to control fire, Eris has the ability to manipulate shadows to her will. These can be taken from the surrounding environment, or created, using pure energy, which naturally drains the user considerably more than if they were to take what already existed. She can hold it under conditions in which it normally wouldn’t exist (in light), and can bend and form it into whatever her abilities limit her to.
Chaos – “A state of complete disorder and confusion”
Chaos is an ability that is closely tied in with the element of darkness: It is an element that, although rare, can set the odds in warfare greatly in her favor. It has come in handy in more than one single occasion, as it has the potential to throw her opponent completely off their guard. For those with minds weaker than hers, she can overpower their senses by trapping them within a twisted, contorted world within their own minds. In some sense, it is an ability to create illusions and hallucinations, yet at the same time, a way of waging not physical, but mental warfare. Those with equal or greater wills than her own can, with some effort, throw the effects off entirely, or, if either they are extremely strong or she is in a weakened state, they might possibly be able to turn the tables on her by deflecting the attack back into her own mind.
Metal – Follows similar principles to those of her Fire and Darkness abilities, yet at the same time, requires a lot more effort and concentration on her part. This is partially because she is not as well-versed in the art of manipulating metals, but at the same time, it drains resources at a much higher rate, as it is not simply working with pure energy, but, in most cases, highly dense solids. Eris learned this form of magic during her stay in the foreign lands in which she was captured, from the mysterious species which had a strangely powerful expertise in metalworking. It is difficult enough to work metal that is currently in existence and on hand, but visibly more strenuous when being drawn from unseen sources. If she isn’t careful with this ability, Eris could quite easily kill herself out of exhaustion as using it saps energy at an alarmingly fast rate. |
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