Chapter One

The clarion sound of steel on steel rose above the blood-drenched field,
audible signs of the battle that raged just over the hill. Underneath, the
baritone moans of the mortally wounded droned, a demonic harmony of pain and
agony. Occasional crashes of boulders shattering into hundreds of knife-edged
shards are countered by the growling bass torrents of water crushing bones on
impact.

Within a small tent gathered four weary people, leaning over a tattered map in
low-voiced discussion. Their armour was filthy, covered in blood and other
fragments best left unknown, signs of their involvement directly in the battle
not too long before. Weariness stamped their features and caused their
shoulders to slump, giving a sense of sameness to their features.

"This can't go on much longer", one of them said as he leaned back on his
heels, his thumbs tucked into his sword belt. "We are virtually equal in
strength to those damned Celest bastards. All we are managing to do is hold a
standoff between us."

A second member slammed his fist down on the table as he spoke up, his words
soft and tinged with madness. "This will go on, oh yes it will, till we win.
Anything less than that is unacceptable." The staff in his hand trembled
slightly with the force of his inner agitation, blood glistening in smears
along its length.

The two began to argue back and forth, their words tinged with a weary
familiarity that exposed just how often this argument had been worked over.

"Enough!"

Like a saber through flesh, the silken tones of her voice cut through the
argument. The sheer, heartless cruelty that tinged her voice caused them all
to turn to her and go silent.

"What of you, Lord y'Bolgari? You have been silent thus far." She turned and
raised an eyebrow at the last member of her Council. He lifted his head and
blinked at her, jarred from his intense contemplation.

A pause, then he nodded, as if coming to a decision. "Our people weary of the
incessant fighting. This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of low morale.
We have not had a decisive victory in the last six months. This must change, or
we will lose due to our own warriors losing heart."

At his words, the other two began to argue with him, each insulted that he
could think so little of their well-disciplined troops. The Warlady, however,
leaned back in her chair thoughtfully, her serpentine eyes speculatively
watching her priest.

"You have something in mind then?" she asked. "Else you would not have brought
this matter up at this point."

With a slight bow towards her, y'Bolgari nodded again. "I do. Our biggest
problem in this war is not strength. Nor is it numbers. Our biggest problem is
their so-called Prince. No insult to you Lady I'Xiia, but he is a brilliant
tactician."

With a hiss of fury, she shoved herself to her feet, not noticing the sound of
her chair being thrown to the floor. "Do you not think I have noticed this? Do
you not think I have tried to rid ourselves of this plague upon us? They know
what they have in him, damn their merian hides, and keep him too well guarded.
No less than five assassins have given their lives to try to..."

"Oh no Lady, I realize he is nigh untouchable at the moment. However, after
months of research, watching, and spying...." His eyes suddenly began to glow
with cruel delight. "We have found a means to nullify his threat, and rip the
heart completely out of him!"

At his triumphant words, the Warlady pulled her chair back up and sat down,
resting her foot on the table as she crossed her arms on her chest. "Go on. How
do you plan for us to do that?" Her voice was slightly sarcastic, yet curious.

A slow cruel smile spread across his face as he leaned down to whisper words
softly in her ear. "Not ten months ago Lady...he did marry. And he leaves her
behind in their New Celest, under minimal guard as his wedding was kept
extremely private..."

She listened to him whisper in her ear, and slowly began to smile, delighted
bloodlust filling her eyes. "And who will you use y'Bolgari? We must choose
the...right person for this."

y'Bolgari turned and slowly nodded. "I am going to send Shanyeil."

Absolute silence filled the tent for a moment, and then the Warlady shuddered
slightly and nodded. "She will get the job done. And this will also give her
an... outlet... for her aggressions." She sighed and rose to her feet. "Get
this started, y'Bolgari. The rest of us will do our best to bring their
attention fully upon us here, so they might even assist our plan by sending
more troops from their pisshole city and opening the path for our true strike.
Taint sustain us all."

With those words they left the tent, three to head to the battlefield and Lord
y'Bolgari to head back to the city to set his plan in motion.

Chapter Two

Shanyeil paced slowly towards the dais, only the rustling of their robes
betraying the presence of the watchers lining the nave. She bit back the
slight nervousness and fear she felt, telling herself that was exactly what
they wanted her to feel. At the foot of the dais she dropped to one knee and
bowed her head, awaiting the Master's words on her summons there.

"You have been a thorn in our sides since you joined the Nihilists, Shanyeil
d'Lardick. A thorn that has avoided destruction only by the slimmest of
margins." The Guildmaster's voice was harsh and cruel, but with an odd edge to
it. She flinched slightly, knowing his words to be brutally true. Her
bloodlust had often caused difficulties with her lack of control. "However, the
Fates seem to have plans for you in our Guild."

She jerked her head up to look at y'Bolgari in surprise and curiosity, startled
to hear that she had not been summoned here for judgment.

A slow cruel smile curved his lips as he nodded. "Yes, you have a chance to
save yourself if you can complete the mission I assign you this day. A mission
that can salvage your place not only in the guild, but in our city as well. But
if you fail, your skin will become a new covering for my chair. Do you
understand?"

With a nod she looks down again, showing her submission to the orders of her
Master. She wondered just how bad this mission was going to be that it was
going to give her a chance for salvation...

"You of course know of the battle we have been waging for the last 8 months
with the fish prince, Maranth Feyriella." He paused a moment, as if waiting for
her answer.

"Yes Master. Although, I have not been permitted to join in the battle after
the first month." Her voice was properly humble, yet carried an edge of dark
hunger.

Without warning, his staff lashed out, catching her in the side of her head and
knocking her to the floor. "And we both know why." he snarled, lunging to his
feet to stand over her. He placed the tip of his staff in the hollow of her
throat and glared down at her, his eyes a dark red. "You will not fail me
again, d'Lardick. For more than just your place in the guild is at stake. If
you fail this time..." He leaned down and hissed the last words directly into
her face. "If you fail this time, you will die."

Barely moving she nodded eyes wide with fear. y'Bolgari stared down at her for
a moment, then moved back to his chair and sat, laying the staff across his
legs. "Come closer. We have much to discuss."

She shifted to kneel at his feet, and for many long minutes, there was only the
sound of his harsh voice whispering softly. Suddenly Shanyeil gasped, a sound
filled with surprise and delight. "Oh. Oh thank you Master, thank you. I will
not fail you in this, I promise!!"

The Master looked down at her and nodded, a sadistic smile playing on his lips.
"You had best not."

Chapter Three

^Four long days^, Shayneil thought to herself. ^Who would have believed they
had already built their 'New Celest' so big.^ She fed another log to the fire,
its cheerful crackling mirroring her mood. ^Thank Nil for my demon. I would
never have gotten her out otherwise.^

With barely a glance at her bound prisoner, she slithered to the top of the
hill to peek over it to the south. About two miles off she could see the fires
from the fishprince's camp. An insane light flickered in her eyes as she
grinned malevolently. ^Yes. this will be perfect. So close, yet he could not
save her...^

With that she slid back down the hill to stand beside her prisoner. As she
looked down, all Shayneil could think of was amazement that someone so frail
and weak could possibly think herself worthy to be wed to a Prince, even if it
was only a Prince of fishes. "What idiots your people are", she hissed softly.
"You're nothing more than fodder."

The tiny Merian woman glared up at her, fury almost hiding the deep fear in her
eyes. She squirmed her body trying to get out of her bonds, but only managed to
entangle herself even more, causing Shayneil to laugh maliciously.

"Oh? Don't worry little one. You will be free of those bonds soon enough... If
I were you, I would be wishing for them to stay on even longer..." With those
words, and a sadistic cackle, d'Lardick wandered off to gather a bit more wood
for the fire, enough to keep it burning brightly for the full duration of her
game.

Moments later, the sound of muffled, agonizing screams began to come from the
fireside.

Chapter Four

A soft cough from the entrance of the tent caught Feyriella's attention. He
looked up from his maps wearily, seeing a nervous messenger standing in the
opening. "Yes? What is it?"

The messenger looked down, then sighed softly and looked back into his Prince's
eyes. "Your Highness...they...there's... You need to follow me, sir."

With a slight frown the Prince followed the messenger, smiling at his troops as
he went by to try to raise their spirits. When they went beyond the outer
sentries, he started to get a bit nervous, wondering if perhaps he was being
led into a trap. Just when he was about to turn back, the messenger stopped
and pointed towards the hill in front of them with a trembling hand.

"There Your Highness. The scouts are waiting for you up there. Please... I
can't go back up there sir." His voice was shaky with shock and horror,
causing the Prince to look worriedly up the hill. He waved away the messenger
as he began to use his magic to build up defenses, maybe to give himself time
to get away if this was, in fact, an ambush.

Finally ready, he walked up the hill, slowing as he caught sight of the three
scouts, their appearance shocking him. All of them were pale, sweating
slightly, as if in some sort of shock. The youngest one was on his knees,
dry-heaving into a bush, body shaking with the force of his shudders. As he
reached the top of the hill, he started to ask them what was going on, when
something at the bottom of the other side caught his attention.

"Oh no. No. No this can't be..." His voice cracked as he ran down the hill,
heedless of his own safety, hurrying to the form he had caught a glimpse of
below. The form of his beloved wife of under a year, her body hanging limply
from a wooden frame. The blood dripping down the center support was still wet,
the sound of it hitting the ground so loud as to near deafen him.

He fell to his knees, keening unconsciously as he forced himself to look at
what had been done to her. Her beautiful, translucent turquoise skin peeled
back in thin strips from her shoulders to her hips, hanging limply down like a
gory skirt. Her eyes, forced open by small wires hooked into her eyelids. The
agony and despair that twisted her beautiful features into a grotesque masque of
misery.

"Oh Ellania, I'm so sorry. I should have guarded you..." He stopped speaking
and bowed his head, body shaking in horror and grief. Suddenly his head
snapped up, a crimson glow filling his sapphire eyes. "No. No it is not my
fault. THEY did this to her... they will pay. Their blood will spill in
torrents to pay for your pain my beloved." He rose to his feet and headed back
to his camp, the madness in his face terrifying his scouts.

Chapter Five

The Council rode out surrounded by their guards, surveying the battle with eyes
filled with dark delight. The fishprince, once their greatest problem, had
become their biggest helper, his tactical ability gone in the face of his
madness.

"I must compliment you, y'Bolgari." the Warlady said huskily. "Your plan
worked out perfectly. Look at them." She waved her hand towards the battle,
the unfocused, random movements of the Celest army illustrating the success of
the Nihilist Guildleader's plan. "We've gone from a stalemate, to being near to
winning. I am very pleased."

He opened his mouth to answer her, when a scream of frenzied fury cut him off.
From the center of a mass of men came Feyriella, running towards the Council
heedless of his own danger. "YOU!! You took her from me! Your blood will be
shed to pay for her death!" Recklessly he blasted with his staff, torrents of
water shooting out in random directions, only one clipping one of the guards.

With feral smiles, the Council pulled up their horses, nodding towards their
guard as they watched. Two of the guards began looping around him, coming up
behind him to quietly, anti-climactically, slip their blades through his back,
killing him before he even knew they were there.

As his body slipped from the blades, the sound of his forces groaning in
despair rose above the sound of battle. With that sound the war was won by the
Council and their troops, though the battle was not yet over.