What Dreams May Come

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

(( April 5, 2011. ))

It was early when Dawn first pondered turning to her bed; much earlier than she'd normally done. The last few days she'd just been so tired - so tired, in fact, she hasn't made nightly demands of her body slaves. One slept best when they were sated, after all. Her mouth opened wide and her arms drifted out wide in the yawn. She pulled away the lush silk coverlet and sheets and slid into the cool comfort of her bed. Squirming shifts brought her further under the covers, spreading her form out upon the bed. "Mmm," she crooned to herself, allowing her eyes to slowly drift shut.

When she awoke, however, there was something unmistakably different about her room. Everything seemed as it should, of course. All her things where they should've been, at least there was that. The architecture was proper. However, everything was cast in a dark, flickering red light. The art on the walls, as well, was different than it had been before. The depictions were darker, the style was more intense and instead of images of single beings the walls were washed in panoramic views of battles between thousands. Devils, Demons and Men were shown being puppeteered by ancient Daemons, the images those of historic points for a being versed in their particular history. Outside, there was nothingness; only fire and shadow. Outside the walls there was only flame. The grounds were deserted. Well, mostly. All the warring images, the fires within the grounds, and even the shadows seemed to be pulling toward the largest, most ornate conference chamber.

At the very beginning, as she blearily blinked red-gold eyes, she blamed it on the surprising and annoying grogginess. She was used to coming awake all at once, but she struggled. Slowly sitting on the lush linens, she frowned. Brows knitted; she was at least more curious than nervous - in the Estate, she was comfortable in her security. Bared feet touched the thick black carpet lightly before crushing it as she stood. "Anubis?" she murmured. Her head canted to the left and a few tentative steps were taken forward. The steps after that became bolder, more assertive as she came to herself and looked around. "Show yourself." She directed to the winds on her way to the chamber, willingly led.

"Only you have been allowed into this place." The voice seeped out of the walls, the ground; though it seemed to come more strongly from the chamber than anywhere else. Within it, on the highest seat, was a woman. Or, something that seemed to be a woman. Her body was wreathed in shadow, clinging to her like wet, writhing cloth. Her hair was a deep, bloodied red and ran easily to the floor. Every inch of her was a testament to the divinity artists of all disciplines seemed to find in physical beauty. Her eyes were solidly gold, though the color seemed impatient being contained within such small areas, and it moved as clouds might across their surfaces.

As Dawn stepped into the room, the woman's face came more into focus. Every angle, curve, and feature Dawn prided herself on above all others was noticeable in this stranger. They seemed to fit together more perfectly on her, however. As though she had originated them, and passed them through the ages down to the Dragonelf as a personal gift. She smiled. "You have something I want, sweet child."

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

She paused just inside the entryway. This was the sale arena; the showroom where slaves were put through paces by prospective masters and mistresses. Usually sand- or straw- filled, the floor was swept clean. Steps whispered as her soles glided across the expanse. With each step inward, her eyes widened at the vision before her. "Oh, Goddess," she breathed. There was wonder in the voice; awe, and a simultaneous adult need combined with a childish desire to please.

Her laughter was akin to seeing a sunrise for the first time. "Do not insult me with such a pathetic title, sweet child." She brought one arm up, and crooked a finger. Come hither. "Come, present yourself to me."

She took a single step forward. While she may have something akin to worship in her expression, she didn't yet venture closer than that single step. Perhaps she didn't feel worthy, or perhaps there was that small murmuring conscience that warned her away. "What may I call you? What do you seek?" Her gaze dropped for a moment, overwhelmed by the sheer marvel before her. Hands trembled faintly.

"There is no title, name, or proper method by which to address me. However, given the circumstances, you may call me…" She pondered, for all of a moment. "Desiederia." The walls rumbled, ostensibly, in agreement with her idea.

"Desiederia..." She tested the name on her lips, found it good. Then she awaited the answer to her second question.

It wasn’t answered. Not directly. "How have you felt these past few days, my child?"

"Felt?" The Dragonelf frowned, glancing toward the pristine ground, ostensibly in contemplation of the question. "I do not understand. I have felt as well as always. Business is robust, and the children are well. Rose has perhaps been more of a trial as of late and has been wearying me..." She trailed off, turning her gaze up toward the woman as if she were drawing life from the sun above for the first time. "What trial will you have me undertake? I am ready."

She smiled once more. "You have already embarked upon my trial." One leg rose, and crossed over another. "You began it the moment you saw him, and began your plans to garner his attention." A ghostly image of massive, tattered wings unfurled and stretched out behind her, then were gone. "And now, it quickens."

"What do you mean?" She frowned in earnest, giving a light shake of her head. Confusion began to take root and she fought to quell it. "Him, who? I do not understand. Anubis? But we have been married near ten years..."

"Not your husband." Her hand rose, and beside her seat the body of the Daemon Dawn knew so well boiled up from the ground, offered by the shadows themselves. "This one."

A sudden gasp-turned-hiss, as Dawn’s red-gold gaze shifted towards and then fixated upon the figure highlighted by Desiederia’s words. "Skid." The single response was drawn out, a mixture of fire and ice, sex and hate. She gaped at the shadow-monster a moment longer and then turned so-slowly once more to the woman. "What of him?"

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

"He is the medium through which I infect all that is." Her smile spread. "He is my creation. My one and only. My pretty, little, Son." The body on the puppeteer’s string jerked into life, then writhed in its noose and died with her words, boiling back into the ground without so much as a sound. "And through his madness, his rage, and his lack of control, I find small joys in these Worlds." Her eyes, while unable to obviously fixate on one point, seemed and felt to have settled directly on Dawn's. "I have brought you here to be the first to tell you… Something is beginning to stir within you.” A smile began to spread. “New life." Her smile broadened to the point where the gentlest hint of fangs could be seen.

There was a moment when the import of the revelation was lost on her; that second where one has heard the words but has not internalized them into comprehension. "New li...” Suddenly it dawned; the storm broke and her eyes rounded wide. "WHAT?" She stalked forward. "What do you mean new life?" There was no protective gesture taken, no hand upon her stomach. Dawn apparently didn't have an immediate mothering instinct.

"I mean exactly what I have said." Her smile remained, immaculate and perfectly in place.

"He made me WITH CHILD?" The noise escalated until it was a near-screech. Her hands splayed in the air, imaginary claws kneading the air in her agitation. Underneath it all, however, was a growing echo of fear.

"Not without your assistance, of course." Her legs uncrossed and she leaned just the slightest bit forwards, the writhing shadows dripping from her frame to the ground, where they scurried to rejoin the fold. "Causing him to become capable of such an act is, in itself, a feat worthy of recognition."

"I did not assist him," she denied hotly, only blinking in surprise as that thought seeped into her understanding. "How did he make me fertile?!"

"Do not lie in my presence, impudent whelp. It cannot benefit you." The fires along the walls shot high, for all of a moment.

She started from her fury, jumping back. "I do not know how," she hissed defensively. "I have only procreated once, after the conclusion of the ritual!" She shook her head in negation. "I did no such ritual with him."

Her eyes narrowed, slowly. Then she let out a breath, and leaned back upon her veritable throne. "Your Draconic blood began to boil when exposed to his." The shadows spread from her hand for a moment, recreating an image of a tiny Dragon moving through the air. "Dragons, noble creatures they are, still fall prey to mating heats."

Thrown, she gaped. "What?" emerged as a whisper, and once more she was sent gaping. "He threw me into heat?! Why did he do that? DID HE KNOW?" Building again, she finally erupted.

The laughter she let loose was a beautiful thing, like a chorus of bells. "My poor Skedras, he had no idea. He had no idea you had done the same to him, either; else he would never have taken such a risk." The tiny Dragon began to grow as it flew; larger, and larger as it circled the room.

The movement caught her, stole her attention. She watched the Dragon as it enlarged. Wings mantled and she darted forward, aiming a slice through the air around that tiny Dragon. "I WILL KILL HIM!"

She laughed, again. The Dragon burst into wisps of shadow as Dawn thrashed in its general direction. The wisps sunk down to the ground and pooled there, whereupon more shadow began to gather with it. Then a body began to rise out of the ground, standing upright. It was female, with short hair and wings like Dawn's. The only parts of her that wasn't pitch black and covered in shadow were her eyes. They were gold, tinged with red, without irises; only pupils, black and dilated. They stared up at the Dragonelf.

She flinched. "No!" A dark scowl was cast at the figure, then at Desiederia. She whirled and stalked for the entrance.

"You cannot escape this, my child." Her voice followed Dawn out into the hall, before the entire compound began to melt, and crumble. "I can hardly wait to see you again."