"Your fight is with me alone.” The voice echoed through the halls of space and time, their crumbling walls holding so many untapped secrets. “We Ssshall Sssee” Replayed the hissing sound of a basilisk. “Sssoon enough, you will bow to usss” Clawed footfalls followed and shadows danced as the flames in the wall torches flickered. “Come to me, Sssoren, come to me.” called the basilisk. A figure clothed in shadows that clung to the cloak they wore turned, the hood hiding the face save for the eyes that pierced the darkness throne by the cowl. Their silver pupils scanning the surrounding room for the owner of the hissing voice that continued to taunt it.
Soren opened her eyes, finding herself squatting on the balcony railing outside her apartment. Nightshade purred lazily as she lay half asleep on the lilac coloured linen sheets. Jynx, a Siberian ginger tom, and Trouble, a snowy peke face, tumbled around on the worn, grey wool carpet. The soothing tones of Gregorian chants filled the air. The smoky sweet scent of Incense mingled with the warm summer breeze that floated through the flat. Turning from her perch on the iron rails she jumped with calculated accuracy to the paved balcony and walked inside.
Picking up the two kittens from the floor she walked over to her rather plain bed. Dumping the two playful kittens next to the rather disgruntled black Persian she proceeded toward the kitchen. Striding past the electric drum kit and supped up Yamaha motorbike surrounded with parts and tools that served as her dining/lounge room area she reached the kitchen and flicked a nearby switch to aluminate the dark corner of the house, a purring jinx nipping playfully at her heels. As soon as the light came on she drew a quick breath and thin, jet black claws shot out from under her nails.
Realising it was only Damien she retracted her claws and sighed quietly, though jinx didn’t stop hissing. Damian, being a demon of time and space, enjoyed his method of transportation, appearing in a dark corner, far to much. Bending down slightly Soren gently scratched behind jinx’s ears to calm him, her silver eyes never leaving Damien’s orange ones. He laughed. The sight of his golden fangs unnerved her to say the least. His hearty laughter rang out through the Gregorian chants that still sounded around them.
He was topless and dressed in loose fitting training pants with draw strings. The gold embroidery on the black material shone slightly in the flickering light. The scar that stretched across his chest a grim reminder of times when things weren’t so nice. The ugly gash spanned its way across his torso, among others, from his right shoulder to his left hip. The slight imprint of his brands followed the edges of the scar. Her own brands were on the insides of her forearms, from the elbow crease to her wrists.
“I take it your not here on business.” said Soren, crossing her arms over her chest, the silver bracelet’s on her arms glinted in the light as much as Damien’s fangs did. Damien laughed again. “Unfortunately not” he answered, his deep voice resounded slightly around the tiny kitchen space. He gapped the distance between them in a single stride and put his hand on her shoulder, his fingers brushed against her long black streak in her moonlight silver hair.
Pushing his hand away from her hair she slipped passed him and opened the fridge door. The door was stocked with small packets of blood and vials of funny coloured glop. On one side of the small fridge was edible stuff, the other was stacked with ingrediance for potions and samples.
Turning to the edible side she reached for a jar of spicy tomato relish but found an almost invisible hand appearing out of thin air, stretching through the thin, rubber like membrane of time and space. The hand gripped her forearm with in a vice like grip. Wrenching her arm free she slammed the fridge door shut with a bang and slight jingle of jars.
Turning she saw Damien laughing his head off, tears welling in his almond shaped aqua eyes. Anger boiled inside her as her own silver, cat-like eyes narrowed to slits. She turned back to the fridge and opened it again. Grabbing the tomato relish and a block of cheese she set to work making one of her favourite snacks.
Damien was still laughing, leaning against the brown kitchen bench while trying to catch his breath. Failing that he fell into another fit of laughter. Marching up to him she stuffed a jatz, with cheese and tomato relish on it, in his mouth then went back to her bedroom and turned on the small TV that sat on a stand in the corner, next to the sliding door out to the balcony.
The evening news flashed on the television, showing the world the lies that the government wanted them to know. Damien walked in to the room, chewing thoughtfully on the jatz. Turning off the CD player he walked over to where she sat on the edge of her bed and stroked Nightshade, who now lay sleeping.
“What of our fate?” she asked, staring at the moon. Damien’s face suddenly became serious, as was his tone. Sighing he said “They are still debating. They can’t find Avion or Fernier, so there is still hope for them at least.” The they he was referring to was the council. The people that had, only years before, had used them to gain their level of power they had now. Now that Soren and her band were no longer needed they were going to destroy them all.
“Is there any hope for any of us at all?” asked Soren, her voice wishful. Standing she walked back out onto the balcony, followed by Damien. “Who knows” was his sombre reply. Turning to face him she was met by his own saddened gaze. Reaching out she put a hand on his shoulder, a smile touching her lips. “it’ll be alright” she said with more courage than she felt. This seemed to relive Damien slightly for he returned her smile and patted her hand.
“I had best be off, Rose needs a visit” he said finally with a mischievous wink. Soren’s smile widened, remembering the last time Damien popped in on Rose. She had been picking out shards of porcelain from various dishes out of his skin for almost a week. “Have fun” she said, watching the swirling shadows consume him.
“How I wish I could see how that goes” She mused to Trouble, who had joined them and was now pawing at a tendril of ivy that had spilled from the earth ware pot that it had been contained in. Walking back into the bedroom she sat on the edge of the bed and watched the news. The images of fiery street fights and riot police flashed past her eyes. Finally having enough reminder of the evil in the worlds she stood, turned off the TV with a flick of a delicate finger and walked back into the kitchen. Finding all her previously made jatz eaten she chuckled slightly and want to change.
Looking to the floor length mirror near her messy dressing table Soren scrutinized the 15 year old figure looking back at her. Waist length moonlight coloured hair, broken only by the jet back streak that coloured the right side of her fringe, if the long strands of hair could still be called a fringe, topped her head. Silver cat-like eyes that told of wisdom and experience beyond that of her supposed years set into a pale, thin face with high cheek bones. Sharp fangs resided beneath slightly blue, full lips. Thin of build yet stronger than she probably looked, she could beat a man without breaking a sweat, almost.
Her fingers were long and delicate, ending with naturally black long fingernails. Same with her toenails. Tracing the intricate tattoo on her upper arm with a finger she sighed. Her waist was thin as were her hips. Shortish yet thin legs supported her fragile looking body. A body that had once wielded weapons the gods themselves daren’t wield. A body that once defeated armies of millions.

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This story is also posted on Elfwood as is its counterpart, the second chapter. I may post it here some time soon. Pm (preferably) hybrid_13 or myself for the link to the second chapter.