Artanis On The Red Moon

The demon, a titan of a brute, horned with red skin that looks like it's about to burst into flame (or has just recently), and grotesquely male, moves towards Artanis. As it does, it moves out of the way of the bed behind it, and Artanis sees his mother behind the vile thing, lying on the bed obviously having just had relations with the demon. And she looks like she was enjoying it, a broad smile across her face.

She doesn't notice him for a moment, and then tries to cover herself when she sees her son standing there. The demon looks back and forth at them, and laughs, saying, "Before your mind bursts, elf, I should explain that your random leap here through the rift was not so random. I've been planning to capture you thus for quite a while. But your ancestors in your blade interfered on the last couple of attempts to rout you here."

"It's time you knew some things about your family," it says. His mother, Yaanaïra, looks like she is about to protest, but the demon interrupts with a booming voice," You'll get your turn!"

"As I was saying," it continues, "You're line has, for generations now, been half-demon. You, yourself, are half demon, that part hidden deep bellow your elfin veneer. But always there."

"And, before you ask," it looks him straight in the eye, "Yes, I am your father. The story about your elven father has been a fiction."

His mother turns away at this, unable to look at Artanis in the eyes. The demon continues, "Why? Why keep this from you? Easier to keep the secret if you didn't know and couldn't spill it yourself."

Continuing on almost without pause, "And to answer for your mother, because she will be reticent to do so, why consort with demons? Well, the answer is bound in an ancient prophecy. Ancient even to elves and demons. You see, one of your ancestors determined that there would be, at a time in the future, the birth of a slayer of elves. An abomination, part human, part something else, that would be the doom of elves everywhere in the world. A thing that would drink their spirits."

"So, needing to create something to defeat this slayer, the seeress saw also a path to salvation. She enchanted a sword, to retain powerful demons. And then she had a son with a demon, a son who had a natural talent to be able to sing to the spirits of the sword," it changes the rhythm of it's explanation here. "Oh, she knew that nobody would ever believe her visions, that no elf would support her plan. But she knew what she had to do. If she could decieve this line of sons that they were only singing magic, and not allowing demons into the world, she could decieve all. And as each elf in turn died out, they would become a demonic spirit themselves, Entisyys, and would be forced to serve her plans in perpituity after death, allowing the wielder to become more and more potent with each death, until the time of the prophecy."

"Still, there had to be somebody to pass down the sword from family member to family member, and to watch the progress from afar. That's where your mother and the other descendants of the seer come in," it seems to take glee in revealing this. "Raised from birth to be consorts of demons, they've known nothing else since. And they've performed their roles admirably."

The look the demon casts back at Artanis' mother is disgusting.

"What's interesting," it continues, not waiting for Artanis to interrupt, "is that my lord, the god I serve, Scalu, Master of Nightmares, cares not whether the elves live or die. We've done our part thus far. But now the time of the prophecy comes night, the signs are all right. And we want more."

Yaanaïra turns back with an accusatory look, but the demon ignores her. "I have you here now, and I have the keys to return you to where you need to be. If I do not, then the prophecy will come to pass, the slayer will be born, and you, and all other elves will be slain."

"But I'm willing to bargain," it says. "In fact, I have some other things to offer you, Artanis, Slayer of Slayers. First, I can deliver you to the one you love. Second, I can give you back what the demon called the Taker has taken from you. Third, and lastly, I can give you an understanding of your powers that none before you have had. Such that you might wield that sword as I believe you must in order to accomplish your tasks."

"All this I offer, and only one thing I ask in return," he says. "That you swear a magical blood oath that, when the prophecy is fulfulled, and you ascend to lord of elves in Sel-kai, that you continue to pledge your blood line to the production of half-demon sons."

The sight of the demon is a dreadful one to behold upon itself, but Artanis retains control of his fear. Yet as soon as he sees his mother, he turns white with shock. Not quite listening to the demon's powerful voice, he stammers a few random syllables, his arm feebly raised towards the once deeply respected figure, whose image was crumbling away as the horned being strung his insane story along.

When the demon comes to a satisfied end of the bargain, Artanis does not respond immediately, his eyes still vague. Fear has left it's place for an unsound sentiment.

He then stares the demon in the eyes, a cold new light kindling.

"I must also know your name, father." The last word stings as it drops like ice from his lips and he shrugs off an uncanny feeling of losing spiritual consistency.

"I must know your _real_ name, as it is also mine."

The loss is fulfilled and Artanis welcomes the cold.

"Then, after your offers have been guaranteed, I will swear the blood oath that, when the prophecy is fulfilled and I ascend to lord of elves in Sel-kai, that I will continue to pledge my blood line to your service."

The demon grins, apparently amused at the elf's need to know it's parentage. Artanis can guess that this is not something that's important to demons. "I am Eortauruus," it answers him.

His grin continues as Artanis agrees to the deal - which makes Artanis feel that the demon likely understands that his elf son doesn't intend to honor the deal fully. The fact that he is unperturbed by this is disturbing. Apparently the demon has great faith in the prophecy.

But not in Artanis, however. "No, I can't merely trust that you'll honor your word. The blood oath must be taken first. This will seal both of our fates to this endeavor. Neither of us will be able to break our words."

He looks at Artanis expecantly, awaiting an answer. Then the demon's attention is grabbed by something that Artanis can't see. The demon addresses what is apparently thin air. "Ah, Entisyys, you come to aid your descendant."

The demon weaves a spell quickly, a ball of arcane light entwined with a mass of elegant symbols blazing in the air speed forward and strike something invisible, intangible. The demon says, "There. Gone. Your Ancestors seem to think that our deal is done when the prophecy is over, that they will be freed from their indentured servitude in the sword - that you're service will then end and you'll be free. I rather think it's just beginning."

The demon grabs a bowl, etched with more of the sort of symbols that were part of the spell he just cast, and quickly cuts his arm. Bright green pours from the gash, looking as though it's very slightly flaming or fuming. He proffers the bowl to Artanis. As the bowl becomes close, he can feel the cold in his blood wanting to mix with the heat of the blood in the bowl.

"You can feel that it's right, cant you?" says Eortauruus. "Isn't that the truth...son?"

Artanis takes up the bowl and looks through the green mixture, slowly changing to an intricate pattern of lighter and darker shades, not unlike the eyes of his beloved.

He looks back up at Eortauruus, ready to comply to the ritual, yet still suspicious.

"Will she be as before? Will she continue to be as she should? Or have you some distorted notion of what returning her means?"

"You have my word...trust of which will be irrellevant once we've sealed our deal with this ritual oath. So you can have no objection," it says. "I have no reason to decieve you, you can see what it is that I get from the bargain. That is sufficient to me."

Artanis nods, and takes the oath, pouring his glacial blood into the bowl...