Akriel Galious moved like an old and senile assassin, but he felt like a paladin.

The former priest was over seventy years old—a mortal length of time thought unfeasible in this modern society. His age certainly showed. Shambling forward from the rear of the hall, his was an elderly figure of frailty and creaking limbs, his large gnarled hands clutching a walking stick to maintain precarious balance. He was clad in a garish cloak of dark red, which bore unidentified bruises of black, purple and blue. His limbs were sickeningly thin, his neck leading up to sunken, angular features. The shadows seemed to hold less sway around his face, but it revealed a sinister smile and smouldering black orbs.

The Queen had meanwhile risen from her perch to see the spectacle for herself, but her guards were arrayed before her and out on the floor. They were no longer around her. They were no longer alert to other trouble. Only her closest royal aides were near and even then, they were on a par shoulder-to-shoulder with her.

The old priest did not hate the Queen personally. She was, by all accounts, a wise and fair individual who ruled with general benevolence. Her station was by birthright. A shame then, that her loyal subjects and the Royal Court were a corrupt, righteous lot who cared only for wealth and money. Akriel was a paladin in disguise, but they would not know it, would not recognise it. They would never associate him on such a level. His very appearance worked against him. Galious would never disguise that, would never allow any illusion to hide what he was, what he stood for, for his beliefs however outspoken, however much maligned.

Himself a priest long ago, Galious quickly came to resent the politics at play. As the righteous holy tier of the Royal Court decreed, so the church followed. It was more pleasantry that peasantry, heavenly proclamations which did little for those in need. Akriel had tried to do what he could, but his own upstart ambitions were trampled on.

“It was not always easy to point out contradictions in soceity . . .”

Akriel knew nothing would easily change soceity, it was certainly not enough to talk about it or to try and convince people. Those in positions of power did not want to relinquish their position or disturb the status-quo. Akriel knew that even killing the Queen—the figurehead of the monarchy and the Royal Court—would not be enough. It needed change from within. Getting within the ranks, a subtle twist of decision-making, slow but very gradual and effectual change. The Wicked Quartet had taken steps in that direction. But Harvold, Cerise and countless others had failed to see the rationale. Ma’Trevan alone had succomed to their way of thinking, but that was because he stood something to gain.

Greed and corruption.

Akriel loathed it. His goal tonight was simple: abduct every member of the Royal Court.

* * * * *

The material in the centre of the floor repelled the knife and then it seemed to billow out. It looked strangely metallic within the illumination afforded by the hall. Donovan gasped in horror—it was coming for him!

Indeed, the material flew down to greet him. It came so quickly, he didn't know what to do except unceremoniously drop the woman he was carrying and fall back. It was purely a reaction of horror and survival. To his continued horror, as he stepped back, the material sank down over the woman and literally consumed her. When it wafted back up into the air, the woman was gone.

Zephir stood there narrowing his eyes slightly, if it was possible without closing them, and turning his head slightly to look at him with one eye or the other. He could feel the man's power but it didn't match. It was intriguing at the least. "Mmm... I do say if you needed a date for the party I can think of better ways to gain one." Generally a jovial sort but slowly he was being whittled away as he was gaining an idea of the intent of the seemingly insidious man before him, "Perhaps a walk in the gardens would clear your head. Come we will speak and leave the people to their party, or what's left of it."

Tidus came peeling back in but thanks to his mask people merely noticed the door flying open and that in itself caused a second disturbance until the doors were secured again with the House Dilysnia Mage inside. He stopped and stared at the center of the room looking at the two venerable men one appeared to be sinister and the second shocked him more, was his old master. He also noted the presence of Deston, the heir to Dilysnia, standing in the front of all the people. He sighed softly praying he would go unnoticed by the darkly clad man.

Deston hated those who tried to command through terror. From the panic evident in the crowd he called out again for an answer from the man who had just taken the woman Donovan attempted to help. He was keeping his courage up though he felt if he wavered in the slightest he would tumble like a house of cards. He didn't draw any weapons since they obviously weren't of any use against the black sheet and he wanted to keep things a civil as possible.

The raven fabric which sought the members of the Royal Court worked quickly to devour them. It would not be easily stopped. Its wards were considerable. A second body was consumed by the material, a middle-aged man clad in white finery who had a curled moustache.

The dark priest did not recognise Zephir, although he knew his was a presence at odds. A personal bodygaurd of the Queen perhaps. Galious had no bone with the woman, but he had no desire to step outside. His presence here was to intimidate. He would do no such thing out in the gardens.

The old priest shambled past the Queen, not entirely disrespectful of Zephir, his cavernous cloak billowing over the floor. “The party is yet young. Please, do as you will. I have something to say to all.”

The Queen jumped in her seat in surprise as Akriel’s form appeared unbidden from behind her. Nearby guards moved to intervene, but Galious simply stamped his staff and whispered a word. The men stopped, puzzled expressions forming on their faces.

The old priest stepped onto the ballroom floor and his deathly gaze fell upon the crowd of affected nobles. He looked ready to address them.
* * * * *
Donovan gasped and turned to Deston. “That . . . that thing is swallowing people from the air!” He pointed as the black fabric fluttered across the room to embrace another individual: Lord Bulotonio Menzies, a prominent figure of the Royal Court. “We need to get everyone out!”

That would prove to be an impossible task. Fancily-clad nobles were in various states of panic. Most simply couldn’t get out the doors: they were crushed up again the sides of the walls. Others stood transifixed on what was happening on the floor. Donovan cast a look to the dance floor and witnessed the form of the priest. His spine curled in horror.

Bianca was weary from searching the halls for Analicia, there was a good
chance her golden haired friend had went back to the ball. Of course that
is what she hoped. Colorful skirts swayed around her ankles as she turned
and made her way back the way she came, through the dim lit halls
of the estate. As she came closer toward the ballroom she noticed people
rushing out, faces ghostly white behind their masks. Screams rang in
the air like church bells did on Sundays. A hand rested on her belly as
the screams of men came to ear, were one of those screams from the
man that Fathered the child in her whomb?
In her head she prayed he was alright, some looked at Bianca like a mad woman
as they fled, the raven haired beauty pushing through the crowd, eyes looking
for Donovan. "Donovan!" Bianca shouted over the noise of the terrified
crowd, she herself stumbling back as she was suddenly bumped by
people panicing to ger out of the room.

Deston sighed as the old men seemed to completely ignore him. Hearing Donovan he turned and nodded, "Calm yourself sir. We should coordinate efforts. Start getting people's attention by any means necessary." Deston moved to those closest to the door and fought at getting to the door. He took a few of the men and physically attempted to snap them out of their panic. Taking one he held him and slapped him hard across the face, "Pull it together or you'll be next to get swallowed by that evil!" he said loudly, "Get others and help me get the doors open and you and your friends can escape a similar fate!" he attempted to get a few others to help him but many were still too fear stricken.


For Zephir it was time to take a serous stance before this man who was abducting persons of the court. "Still yourself!" he said sternly directly to the crowd and with an abnormal volume. For most it would interrupt any sort of thought process, fear induced or otherwise and allow them to reassess their situation from a clean slate. Also in response he made a motion with his hand, his own garb fluttered slightly and a soft breeze blew past the guards gently twisting around each of the frozen men. They would feel a coolness seep into their limbs and a slightly calming sensation, and soon they would find their bodies responding to their own will. Zephir also took a precaution and placed a ward up around the queen and her guards. They could move within the circle of about 15 feet but could not pass that invisible line.

Looking back at the man, Zephir kept his distance but followed his direction and kept silence, but glanced slightly with a small smirk at the actions of his old pupil in approval.

Tidus could see Deston struggling attempting to get the doors open. So the young mage, compared to the others in attendance, gave minimal concentration toward the door and began to forced it open.It was slow but it began to crack letting cool night air in. Some figured others were trying to open it and their shouts of "It's opening" or "Hurry!" might be enough to direct others to move enough to get them fully open and let people pour out.

Regardless on the stampede that moved toward the door Bianca pushed
her way through them in the opposite direction. Her mask was knocked
off her face in the frenzy and crushed by the crowds feet. Even at her
height it was hard for her to see over the mass of nobles. Something in
her became frantic, she was oblivious to what was going on and she could
not see anyone from the House Dilsynia. "Donovan!" she shouted out
again, but her head snapped in the direction of Tidus's firm voice.
She gasped as she felt someone step on the skirts of her gown, fabric
ripping. Her hands gripped up her skirts and attempted to make her
way toward Tidus in hope Donovan would be near. Analicia was still
no where to be found, Bianca was praying to God she was alright.
"Tidus!" she shouted once again, hoping her dear friend would hear her
over the noise of the panicing crowd.

Akriel had waited years for this occasion, to instil terror directly into the hearts of the nobles. Perhaps he’d achieved that already. However, more was to come. Some looked at his lascivious form and shrank back in horror. Yes, he thought, you should fear me. Your reign is soon at an end.

The old priest whispered dissonant syllables, decrepit words which petitioned the darker powers of the world. The ballroom floor began to smoke and char beneath his feet. What guards were near shrank back in fear. Akriel kept his malignant gaze levelled on the crowd as the smoke curled up directly beneath his form. His presence may have been perceived as a mere hallucination, so horrifying was it. As the smoke continued to rise, a sinister mark appeared emblazoned on the floor: an eerie pentagram filled with crooked sigils. Through this simple mark, Galious could attune himself with the powers of unholy darkness and channel devastating power all the while remaining free from intrusion.

He was going to say a few words, but found himself unable to. His hate ran too deep. His words would be lost on them. One bruised and drunken noble had meanwhile approached the priest from behind. Akriel did not see him. “Why are you pay . . . paying part in the charade?” he shouted. The nobleman clearly did not realise the import of the situation. Galious heard him but did not turn to greet him. The priest sighed and raised his stick. He traced a mark in the air with it. Power surged from the pentagram and channeled through his old form, thick draughts of fire erupting from the end of the stick. He pointed it in many directions. Flames arced through the ballroom, setting curtains and furniture on fire.

People were caught in its path.

Screams rang out.
* * * * *
Donovan felt a lurching sensation as the smoke appeared around the form of the old man. Instinctively, he knew things were going to get worse. Where was Bianca, he wondered?! She gone to look for Anaclicia, but was she still in the room? Had she come back in? His eyes scanned around anxiously. Suddenly he began to panic, began to doubt where exactly she was.

In that panic, he became separated from Deston. A lost figure, the flames came at him, and searing agony. The advisor screamed in anguish.

An erie feeling traveled up and down her spine as finally she saw the elderly
priest, smoke and fire rising at his feet like he was the Devil in the flesh.
Bianca let out a shriek as the fire shot out in all directions, not only the
fire burning the tall curtains but also the attendee's of the ball. The
oh so familiar scent of smoldering flesh flowed into her nostrils, her stomach
curling, threatening sickness. Men and women became human torches,
some in utter shock running and catching whatever or whoever they touched
on fire. Air from the doors that were ajar fed the fire, fueled it making the
flames seem even more hellish.

Then she saw her lover, her heart sank as she saw the fear on his face.
It was as if she was having an out of body experience, it was
as if she was floating above and saw her body run toward Donovan.
Whatever was in her way she shoved, it was her prerogative to get
to Donovan. Those green gray eyes saw the glow of the flames that
were coming at Donovan at an allarming rate. The weight of her body
collided into his, her prayers ringing out in her mind that she would push
him out of the way in time. Arms wrapped around him, eyes closing
tightly as she braced for what was to come. A part of her expected to
feel the heat burn off her skin; if this evil fire was going to steal Donovan
away she was damned sure to follow with him.

Meanwhile Analicia was still closed away with the exotic mocha skinned woman
that had pulled her away. Heart was beating fast in her chest as her ice blue
eyes scanned over this attractive strangers figure. Oddly enough Analicia
found herself highly attracted to her! In her mind she tried to make herself
believe that it was the wine that was making her feel these things.
Then suddenly she heard shouts echoing down the halls, not just any sort
of shout but blood curling screams of agony and pain. Analicia snapped
out of the lure of the woman and turned, hands fumbling with the handles
of the door, "Dear God what is going on" said Analicia. Panic struck her hard
wondering the where abouts of Bianca and the others of the House Dilsynia.

Deston smelled smoke almost right away before he ever saw flames. All of the thoughts in his head were all edged out by a single solitary but quite powerful one. So he turned about and darted back into the Chateau and fought through the people that were all marching to a rekindled panic. He prayed Isabel had heeded his words and stayed by the pillar he had left her by.

Tidus heard the call for him and turned about. He searched the crowd and not until he saw his friend, the House Advisor burst into flames. What was worse he saw the man's bride to be and expectant mother fling herself upon him. He didn't even have the wind left in his lungs to force out a whisper let alone a shout. There was no way he would get to them in this flood of people and he was concentrating quite hard on keeping the door way from bursting into flames and a small overhang of the surrounding area. He wanted to turn and save his friends but he knew it would be irresponsible to possibly cause the deaths of all these people for his selfish act. So he watched as they burned, as people squeezed out the barely opened door.

Zephir was not amused in the slightest. He saw the pentagram and the sigils, noting them for what they were. He spoke in a whisper but the guards behind the ward would hear him quite well, "Get her out! The ward will keep you safe until you are out of the Chateau. Stay close to her. The barrier is centered with the Queen." Turning to the twisted being that was the originator of this long to be remembered day in history. "Enough." he said using the same trick as before so that only Akriel would hear him, "I know not your intent in this but there are other ways to get what you want. If you persist on this course things will end badly for many, possibly even you and I." he said with cold determination.

Amid the channelling and coarsing of unholy power through the priest, his form began to change. “Nwoooooo!” he screamed. Twisted horns sprang out from his forehead, sending the old priest’s form into spasms. The stick wavered here and there as he thrashed in pain, sending greater spews of flames in random directions. His eyes changed, becoming utterly black and unfeeling. A devil of a creature had possessed and overtaken Galious’s form. It was enjoying the carnage.

The Queen wept as she was hastily escorted out by the Royal Guard. The scene as they left was dismal, many fallen and screaming in pain.

As Galious was possessed, the flying black fabric—which had consumed now six members of the Royal Court (newly elected Marquis Ma’Trévan included) and delivered them to an unknown location—vanished from the air. It had claimed a fair tally. One member of the Court had been taken by the fire, but three others survived and had managed to get out of the building.

The beast felt the talk of Zephir, in a human tongue which he loathed. "Sacrifice yourself," it rasped, turned and pointed in what he felt was his general direction and let loose a flurry of flame.
* * * * *
Sunetra was out of the path of fire so to speak, and she even had a new play thing to engage with. Analicia heard the growing commotion outside and struggled with the handle to try and get out. Sunetra stepped over and roughly pushed her away toward the adjacent wall, firmly embracing the young woman. “You would leave me here?” she breathed. “Alone, with nothing? Kiss me, and I’ll let you go!”
* * * * *
Donovan and Bianca were consumed by fire and fell together to the ballroom floor. The heat was unbearable, giving birth to accute pain as the scolding heat cooked and burned his flesh and skin. The noise in his ears was ferocious and terrible. He became familiar with that agonizing level of pain, because there was no unconsciousness—there was no release. The pain seemed to curiously undulate, or perhaps that was his senses breaking down. Donovan felt the presence of another body connect with his, and despite the terror he knew it was Bianca. But what was she doing!? Her dress caught up in his, catching the flames. He tried to push her away, tried to save her, but her hands were wrapped around him!

Arms wrapped around him so tightly, swearing she would not let him go.
Her prayers were all she could rely on to get them out of this alive,
hoping God would be their savior and spare them from the Devil's flames.
A scream rang out from her as she felt the fire licking at her skin, the heat
burning her and her lover without mercy. Though, Bianca had rushed
Donovan with such force the wrath of the flames would not be upon
them for too long, or she hoped. She had knocked them to the floor,
both of them sliding across the marble. Pain seered up her legs,
some of the flames that destroyed the skirts of her gown smothered
from sliding across the marble floor. Bianca's body acted like a human blanket
to smother out the flames that threatened Donovan even more pain.
Her once long ebony hair was singed and burned. It was hard for her
to open her eyes amongst the pain that racked her, before thinking to
even pat out the smoldering of her own garments she released her grip
on Donovan and slid off, any fire that still burned instantly being patted out
with her hands. Once again her hands fell victim to fire; it was all a nightmare
coming to reality. Fire had once threatened her life when the kitchens
in Dilsynia caught blaze - fire had also taken her village, her family. And at
the rate the fire was consuming the ballroom Bianca was frightened
it would now take her life as well. Once she was sure all fire was extinguished
from Donovan's clothing she forced herself up, burned hands fumbled to do the
same for herself. But when Bianca's eyes caught a glimpse of the beast that
now stood on the very floor she and Donovan laid she fainted from disbelief and
agony.

******


Analicia felt the air escape from her lungs as Sunetra shoved her into the wall.
Such strength were in the arms of this beautiful temptress! The breath of
Sunetra's whisper tickled the skin of her neck, sending a quiver throughout
Analicia's being. Lush curves of this mocha skinned, misty eyed stranger
pressed to the golden haired angel's. A wave of lust almost swayed her thinking;
Analicia knew she had to go to the aid of Bianca. Hands moved up the
front of Sunetra's body teasingly, just a gentle brush over her stomach,
chest, neck and finally cupped Sunetra's face, touch as soft as silk.
Analicia's kiss was like the destructive fire, it was hot and without mercy.
Tongue explored the strangers mouth, mingling with Sunetra's tongue.
But as quick as it had begun Analicia pulled away, ending the sweet forbidden
kiss with a small nip and tug to Sunetra's lower lip.

Zephir eyed the beast and spoke to it in it's own tongue, "I will do no such thing, beast. Now release this man!" Even as he spoke he traced out the proper sigils in the air. Soon, surrounding the original marking placed by Akriel, were new markings. These flashed a brilliant white and then faded to a soft blue. They were strong binding magics that he had used before to hold higher demons for information purposes, and should be enough to hold this beast if the old dabbler was smart and used a lesser creature for his fires. As soon as he saw the markings glow he readied a spell of banishment of the first order for this creature. If it had been a true summoning he would have simply killed the bound beast but since it was possessing he didn't want to harm the host, despite the current state of the Chateau.

Deston pulled Isabel out the door fought through the people and past them. The cool air washed over him. It was gloriously cold and refreshing but it burned his lungs from all of then smoke he had inhaled. He ran to their carriage and leaned against it catching his breath before even attempting to put her inside.

Tidus watched as the pair rolled around on the ground and once a good many people escaped he was able to fling the doors open and pin them in that position. Once he was satisfied he ran over to Donovan and Bianca and checked for vital signs. Bianca had merely fainted but she was burned badly, she would lose the child from this for certain, or they would both die. Next he check on the advisor. Donovan's flesh, crisped as it was, had a disgusting texture which he ignored and prayed he would detect something. Perhaps he would be able to heal the man if only there were signs.

Akriel was not in control, or at this stage he would have taken flight: his goal accomplished, the members of the Royal Court abducted, a little fire placed about the chateau, and his intentions declared.

Not so, however. The power he had called upon had taken control and advantage of him. Galious was not a weak man, but he had severely compromised himself in the pentagram and underestimated the powers of darkness.

Zephir now took on that power, and his move was a masterstroke of sorts. Its only shortcoming was that the contents of the new circle did not hold and bind the devil. The pentagram marked its own domain, in which it was free to do as it pleased. So to say, the space between outer circle and pentagram could be controlled by Zephir, but not the inner domain space as inhabited by Galious’s possessed mortal form. The pentagram acted like a one-way domain, if you like, the infernal beast could fire contents out, but nothing could get in—an ingenious trapping of Galious’s design to thwart general spells from mages of Zephir’s calibur. As it was, attempts to supplant the beast did not even concern the creature.

What did concern the creature, when it saw the markings appear and sensed the magic, was simple: the pentagram and its domain bound in this physical place meant:

a) The devil could not teleport the pentagram and its contents to another area of the room, it was held firmly in place
b) Zephir’s circle could act as a shield: what flame spewed forth from the pentagram could be blocked by this new barrier, preventing the destruction in the ballroom [oops, assumed to be true]
c) Zephir could indeed most certainly banish whatever physical matter existed in his circle, or begin a barrage of damaging spells against the pentagram.

The creature knew it was safe in the pentagram. It breathed esoteric words in the guttural tongue of demon, ignoring the mental urgings of Zephir. From inside the pentagram it opened up a writhing black portal. This devious gate sank down to a low, physical third-party domain, and, that place acting as an intermediary, a one-way portal opened beyond it.

Suddenly, near the ballroom ceiling, a great black vortex opened up, beyond Zephir’s new circle. The devil had created a workaround means of raining devastation on the hall, a means of effectively bypassing Zephir’s barrier. The form of Galious poked his stick into the writhing portal. Almost instantly, fire danced from the ceiling gate into the hall.

Now even if attacked or banished, the devil could continue its grim assault on the ballroom of the castle, given the assured safety of the pentagram.

The occupants must flee or die, it reasoned.

Bianca’s body and dress smothered the flames and put them out. Donovan had been unable to dislodge her. Badly scorched, his suit had deteriorated, his flesh exposed and blackened and swollen. His once handsome face was also black and charred. The fire had eat badly at his face and throat. The advisor was still conscious, but he knew his time was short, the pain was great and his heart was weak.

“Bi . . .anca,” he croaked. The noise he heard coming from his lips suprised him and horrified him, so devoid of feeling and emotion was it. He feebly tried to stretch an arm out to his love. He couldn’t do it, the pain was too great. “Tid . . . us! Old friend . . . get her out!?” The fire was now coming down from the ceiling, it felt like a volcano had errupted. The place was a furnace in the making. It was only a matter of time before the walls and roof came tumbling down. Donovan shoulder’s heaved as he sobbed, “Save yourselves!”
* * * * *
Analicia’s vigour and pursuit surprised the dark assassin. Sunetra did not expect that level of want and desire from the young woman, and yet she saw it unhidden in her eyes. It wasn’t forced; it wasn’t a contrived effort just to escape her. That being the case, the beautiful assassin lent into her mouth and submitted herself to the moment, her eyes closing, those long eyelashes still. The warmth was exhilarating. It was everything she dreamed it could be.

But then, all too soon, the moment was over, the girl gone, the girl fled from the room.

It had been worth it.

Analicia rushed down the hall she had exited the ballroom from,
toward where not too long ago was filled with beauty and radiance,
laughter and dance, happiness. But when she came through that doorway
what she saw made her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. Analicia
had seen death countless times, but this.. This was the very face of death
itself. Her lungs ached quickly from the heat, black smoke making it's way
to broken and ruined ballroom floor. The large flame filled room was filled
with the stench of death, charred bodies were scattered about all over the
place. A piece of the cieling crashed down not too far from her, startling
Analicia and snapping her out of her state of shock. Ice blue eyes began to
sting from the smoke, it was hard to see through the black fog that was
taking over the room.
Then she saw them, the couple that was filled with life and love earlier
were now crumbled like burnt rag dolls on the ground. Without even
hesitating, through the flames and falling debree, Analicia rushed over
to Bianca and Donovan. "Dear God in heaven!" she gasped out, looking
to Tidus, eyes wide, "We have to get them out of here, I can carry her!".
Her stomach churned as her skin felt the heat from Bianca's burns as she
lifted her dear friend. "Pick him up now!" she shouted, mind slow to take
in what the handsome advisor now appeared to be.