Slave to Circumstance

[111]

Evangeline lies under the black bed-coverings, comforter drawn up to her face to avoid the chill. Stone walls and marble floors did not lend themselves to a warm residence. Appropriate then, for a residence owned by a man who was not warm himself. Or... was he?

 

She looks over to see Xel'enfer's sleeping form, black skin and scales, crowned with a spray of white hair. Evangeline had known the man for almost a year, and every meeting had been a harsh one. She had hated him for who he was, and what he represented, thought him a monster, taking advantage of the weak and helpless, making them his. Evangeline sighs and fingers the mythril collar fastened to her neck, marking her as one of those she had deemed helpless.

 

Yet... helpless she was not. There was nothing truly keeping the collar on her except her own willingness. A willingness backed by her desire to learn what Xel had promised. She could understand the rules, to an extent, the discipline. The things Xel had knowledge of were dangerous indeed, and one did not simply hand weapons to a recruit without the training and discipline to use them properly. 

 

Still, the situation confused her. Xel seemed less interested in cruelty, and more in mirth. The man smiled, he laughed, even sang. Things she never would have believed him capable of. Things she never thought she would have done as well in his presence. Why then the symbols? The collar... the strange rules? 

 

Why this code, that seemed more the master of Xel than he was of her? This path he was desperate to follow? And when was she going to learn how to summon a demon army and take over the city?

 

Evangeline grumbles and burrows down into the blankets, for in the end, there were only two choices. Leave, and give up on whatever she might learn, or stay, to see what the next day would bring.

 

As dawn breaks the next morning, it would find Evangeline had remained, dozing lazily in the grand bed.

[111]

Evangeline rolls out from the silky black sheets, rubbing her eyes and yawning in the cool air. It was her second night in that bed, and it had been as uneventful as the first. Xel'enfer did not ask she sleep in it, and seemingly had no issue with her using her own room.

 

Yet, her own room lacked a fireplace, and it did not take long for the chilly air in the stone manse to leave the elezen shivering in her narrow bed. Her body puckered with goosebumps she had covered herself with a blanket, trekked to the Master bedroom grumbling all the way, before falling asleep in Xel'enfer's warm bed without a second thought. 

 

Evangeline's long legs stretch out in the warmer morning air toes curling before she reaches out to drape the blanket across herself one more. The bed is empty, Xel seemingly having left before her. Sleepily she trudges back to her room, tossing on a set of clothes, before making her way down to the kitchen. Xel seemed to believe her currently too unstable to learn anything of the void, that without some discipline she would simply be consumed by it. She of course, disagreed, but the man was dreadfully stubborn, he had been setting her rules, tasks, judging her to see if she would actually listen and obey. 

 

Today she was told to cook breakfast for the house, a task less daunting than it would seem. Evangeline had cooked for refugees of Ul'dah and the Brume both, and it was not long before She has an assembly line of several large pans sizzling, depositing eggs, sausage, and toast onto a array of crisp white plates. She covers each with a towel to keep them warm, before settling down to eat one herself.

 

Evangeline finishes quickly, sending her dishes clattering into the sink. The elezen hurries off to her room, equipping herself for a days travel, and slips through the manor's main door. As she slips out she leaves a note in the main hall.

 

 

Off to build an airship, should be back tonight.

Breakfast is in the Kitchen.

- Evangeline

[111]

"That ye never truely fancied me. Yer jus' like any other natural lass.... get yer curiosty sated, an' ye go off lookin' fer a man."

 

"Donna need ter tell me...."

 

 "I know how it is..."

 

Klynzahr obliges finishing off her own glass, before upending the remainder of the bottle. Although her face is flushed deep purple, she remians oddly steady on her feet. After the empty bottle hits the table, there is a painful silence. Then she says quietly "M'sorry ifin I made ye uncomfortable, back there in th'brume. It had been a long while ye see an'.... well I jus' got th'wrong idea."

 

"Allus did try ter go slow with ye.... jus' ye were such a lovely thing, I ...."

 

"Well it were damm hard ter resist ye fer long."

 

"....... M'sorry again lass. Really, I am."

 

----------------------------------------------------------

 

 

It had been a while, since she had needed its effects. 

 

The gentle kiss of oblivion, of forgetting, of being... empty.

 

It would, she knew, banish the voices that plagued her.

 

For weeks, months, she had almost thought herself a different person. A changed woman from the Heretic that had stood in court, spitting on her accusers. A woman who helped instead of hurt... who brought change without suffering. 

 

Yet she couldn't do that.

 

The Elezen pushes the plunger down slowly, eyes lidding as she slumps down against the book case. 

 

She couldn't change anything...

 

The syringe clatters onto the wood floor with the sound of breaking glass, and Evangeline bends down to pull off the strap on her arm, her teeth latching on to it in a practiced motion.

 

All she could do was harm...

 

Her head touches the wood floor and she loses herself to dreams.

[111]

"It's going to work this time..." Evangeline mutters, as she applies the dye to her raven locks. The dye is the color of burnished gold, the hair color she was born with, the color her friends and allies had grown used to seeing upon her head. The die catches at first, then like the two times before, began to hiss and bubble, the color fading in a puff of golden steam. 

 

"Thal's Balls!" Evangeline curses, throwing the tin of dye against the wall, sending it bent and clattering across the floor. This third dye was strong enough to etch color onto steel. Not for the first time she wondered at the value of Xel's "Gift". 

 

The ceremony had been quick, almost hurried, the blood and potions swirling around her like a vortex. The scents of alchemical herbs assaulted her nostrils, and she almost thought she heard a deep, cruel voice, as her body absorbed the dark purple brew. Though... absorbed was the wrong word. It was almost as if the neck deep fluid was forced into her, through every hole, every pore of skin. Her body felt like a a vessel under pressure, and for a moment, she feared she world burst. Her vision had gone black, and for a few pain wracked, senseless minutes, she rolled upon the floor of the chamber and screamed, the fel energies reworking her body for their own purposes. 

 

At the end, it had all faded quickly as it began, leaving only her hair outwardly changed, from a golden brown to the deepest black.

 

There were... other effects as well, though not as obvious. Evangeline reaches out once again for the slim dagger, and as if she still wasn't sure of the results, slowly cuts a red line across her forearm. The red blood wells and drips down her arm, collecting on her fingertips. She watches, as the drip slows, before fading entirely, the skin stitching together. In mere minutes, it is done, the skin of her arm unmarred, the only hint of the wound the trail of blood on her arm.

 

Evangeline sinks back in her chair, cradling her head in her hands. "Hells..." She mutters, "What did I do?"

 

Whatever she is now, it is something more than a mere Elezen... or more likely, something less. Xel had called it a gift, smiling when he saw the ritual did not destroy her. More importantly, he also claimed it was the first of many...

[111]

"Hold fast and prepare to die, Vile Drake!"

Gurthbar Serpentstrangler, fairest of Ishgard's holy dragoons stands upon the shattered wall, calling to the Dragon beneath him.

 

"My lance will taste your insides this day!" Indeed, his Lancehead glitters in the moonlight, cruel barbs coming off the head like so many tearing claws.

 

"No, Fair Dragoon..." The dragon turns, his own lance glistening as well, giving a mating hiss "It mine which will taste yours..."

 

Gurthbar pales, and his knees tremble, for it was a mightly lance indeed... even larger and more barbed than his own...

 

Evangeline makes a happy squealing noise, her feet kicking in the air behind her as she lies on her stomach, reading a cheaply bound novel on Xel'enfer's large bed. "M-my..." She blushes, turning the page, "Ah!" After a few more paragraphs she flips over, needing a moment to process the 'vivid' imagery of her favorite author.

 

In doing so the cover of the book is revealed, 'The Dragonsong Whore, Book III; The Great Wyrm's Wyrm'. Banned in Ishgard, nevertheless the series sells well among the imaginative all over Eorzea.

 

She sighs happily, cheeks blushing, as she hugs the book to her chest. "I'll have to thank Xel for getting me an advanced copy."

[111]

- Three Months Later -

 

It was a rich taste, bursting with complex flavors. She rolled a chunk of it on her tongue, the swollen organ 

detecting every last subtle nuance of flavor, before it was washed down in a fresh wave of blood. 

 

"Ah...~" She purrs in pleasure, taking a moment to enjoy the terrified look in the woman's eyes, that last bright 

spark of life. Evangeline bends down and takes another bite out of her prey's neck, the Hyur's struggles growing 

faint, drained of blood and aether both. "You taste lovely, I just want you to know." A clawed hand moves to 

caress the dying woman's cheek, leaving a streak of blood on pale skin. "Truly..." 

 

The woman's lips move soundlessly, her body trying in vain to keep the delicate mechanisms of life from breaking down. "W-why...?" the words eventually creak out, raspy, like a gear without grease.

 

"Because lovely as you are..." The once elezen grins through bloodstained lips, "Prey is prey." A pair of 

batlike wings twitch, and then she's at the woman's neck again, more a beast than anything else. The woman's legs twitch twice as blood splatters down, then slowly cool as the air is filled withe the sound of meat being 

devoured.

[111]

Evangeline lazily uncoils as the first fingers of dawn creep through curtained windows. She murmurs softly, her feet sliding across the soft silks, clawed toes spreading as her muscles twitch with relief. The wings on her back twitch as she reaches up to wipe a splotch of still wet blood from a yawning mouth. 

 

That was odd, it was clear. Almost like... drool.

 

Oh. She'd done it again.

 

Evangeline grumbles with frustration and tosses off the sheet, revealing a rather ordinary looking, if short,  Elezen. The dreams had been getting worse as of late, especially in the last few weeks, as if the void taint had been spending the previous months simply settling in. Now it was ready to make itself known. Her pillow had suffered the worst, a patch of wet ragged cloth, torn where she had gnawed on it during her sleep. She'd gone through several pillowcases in the last few weeks, perhaps they were sold in bulk.

 

She pads over to the mirror, full of the unnatural energy which seemed natural to her now. Whatever the taint was doing to her body, it had its benefits. 

 

Still though...

 

Evangeline leans into the mirror with a sigh, giving her reflection a forced smile. "I don't think they got any longer today..." She tentatively reaches up and touches an elongated canine, looking almost like a keeper's fang. She checks her head next, checking the pair of small bumps which had appeared a few days ago, bits of bone almost pushing through the skin.

 

"Hells." She exhales, the reality of her situation falling upon her. "Let me hope Remioux is the scientist he says he is."

 

Evangeline walks away from the mirror, grumbling, "Because there is no way I'm going to come crawling to a priest."