The Four Realms - Mistakes (Kyris)

"H'atze . . .".

"Don't worry Zen", she gave him a quick grin, "It'll be fine. I mean, I did it once before. Now that I know where I went wrong, I can summon a stronger demon".

"That's what I'm afraid of, H'atze". His soft voice made her look up from her task to gaze straight into his fiery red eyes. As cruel and cold as they appeared, she could see the worry in them.

She got up from the ground, dusting the knees of her robe, "Zen, you're here to protect me, not to tell me what to do and what not to do". She risked another smile, "You don't see the other nithkier telling their H'atze what to do".

The young demi-human remained silent. He had nothing to say to that, and she knew it. "Very well", he muttered, turning his back to her and stalking into the shadows, his gaze locked to the ground.

Kyris watched his retreating back and sighed. "Zen", she walked up to him and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder, "I know you're worried, but it'll be alright. I can handle this. You know that".

"If something was to happen H'atze . . .".

"Zen, nothing will happen! If you're worried that nian will kill you for this, I won't let him".

His expression stiffened. "You have no power over that, H'atze. Lord D'en does as he sees fit. Besides, I'm not worried about that. It's my charge I'm more concerned for". With that, he faded into the shadows. Shaking her head to herself, she made a mental note to apologize to him later. She supposed his anxiety was justified though. Should she summon a high-level demon, it would take some time before she would be able to harness its power. And if she couldn't . . .

She shook her head. Why was she doubting herself? Of course she could do this. It was easy. Besides, if her Ni'Khez was complete, the creature should not be able to harm her. Kyris placed the finishing touches on the summoning gate.

"Zen, I'm done", she called out. Still no answer. Shrugging, she stepped into the middle of the Ni'Khez, shut her eyes, and concentrated on the task.

Just beyond her hearing, she picked up a soft, "Kyris-lian . . . be careful". She smiled, and began.

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Something's gone wrong!

Kyris' eyes flew open as she looked around her warily. She knew the runes were perfect, her incantations flawless . . . what had happened?

There was nothing. No demon had appeared. She frowned, but waited for a few minutes just in case. Still nothing. 'Damn', she cursed inwardly, stepping out of the Ni'Khez, 'What the hell went wrong?'.

"Nandye", a voice purred beside her ear.

"What the . . . ?!". Kyris whipped around to face it and was greeted with a pale humanoid figure floating inches above the ground. It looked remarkably like a normal female necromancer, complete with the long flowing hair pitch black hair and haughty features, but dressed in robes of old. She could feel the power emanating from it and couldn't help but be awed. Suddenly, she wished for the protection of the Ni'Khez. However, once one crossed the seal was broken. D'en had repeated that fact often enough. "Who are you?", she asked guardedly.

The figure did not respond, instead circling Kyris as though inspecting her. Kyris turned to watch her, trying not to turn her back on this figure. Despite herself, she was beginning to feel uneasy. Finally, the figure floated back a couple of feet, nodding to herself. Then, "Amazing . . . after all this time, there is another . . . you will do perfectly".

"The hell?!". Kyris jumped back as silvery strands struck the place she had been a second ago. By instinct, her hand curled back and she hurtled a death rune at her attacker. It burned bright silver as it shot unerringly towards the figure.

"Agile little creature, aren't you?", the woman mused as the rune faded just before it reached her. Kyris stared at her. Her death rune had failed? "No matter. It will just be another bonus when I . . .". She stopped abruptly as shadows appeared to encase her, beginning to glow a dark red. Realizing what was happening, she threw her arms up, yelling out a word sharply. The shadows ripped apart and all of a sudden, Kyris found Zen'tsen in front of her, poised for a fight.

The woman touched the side of her neck, then brought her hand up to look at it. Red stained her palm. "Very good, Nithkier", she commented softly, "It is a rare one indeed that can even touch me, much less draw my blood".

Zen'tsen said nothing, merely watching her every movement warily. "Zen, step aside. This is my battle", Kyris told him.

"You will not be able to win this fight, H'atze", he replied calmly, "And I won't allow you to fight".

Kyris, realizing she had lost control of the situation, began to draw a rune to summon her stepbrother. Once Zen'tsen had made up his mind, she knew she had as much chance as her family migrating to Eden.

"No you don't", the woman snapped, the same time Kyris felt her limbs freeze. Zen'tsen sprang forward again, his movements so fast it was barely even visible. However, all of a sudden Kyris saw him crash against the wall and then pinned there by invisible hands.
The woman laughed, "Finally! I can live again". With a motion of her hand, more of the silvery strands appeared and this time struck their intended target with deadly accuracy.

Kyris managed to catch a glimpse of Zen'tsen yelling something out, but then darkness overwhelmed her.

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D'en stood next to the bed, gazing down upon the motionless figure lying there. His expression was one of calm, totally unreadable. Even his golden eyes displayed no emotion as he scrutinized his stepsister.

'You . . . ', even mentally, he could not finish the sentence.

A sharp click from behind indicated a door being shut. Almost instantly, another man appeared by his side. He lacked the finesse and poise of the heir of Jal Hyl, though he held the same bearing and self-assured confidence.

"What brings you here, Níal?", D'en asked. Again, there was no emotion in his voice as he addressed the newcomer, "This is hardly the place for a warlord of your status".

Níal, as he was called, ignored the comment. Instead, he unfastened his cape, draping it over the chair and sitting his large frame onto it heavily, "I came here as soon as I heard the news".

"Father will have my hide for this".

Níal laughed, "He does favor his youngest so". D'en shot his friend a sharp look, debating with himself whether or not he should punish him for making light of the situation. Once he saw the seriousness in Níal's emerald eyes though, he decided to let it go. Not disappointing him, the warlord's tone lost its humor, "D'en, was she not . . . guarded?". A slight nod. "Was Zen'tsen not good enough?".

D'en was silent. Both men knew what would happen to an incompetent nithkier. Those unable to protect their H'atze were usually discarded and replaced. In a world such as Valhalla, such precautions were necessary. However, he knew his friend was extremely attached to Zen'tsen. After all, the nithkier was Níal's only son, bastard or not.

"What are they going to do with him?". Níal was admirably calm. A closer look however revealed the warlord's fists clenched tightly.
Dén thought of the young demi-human. There was no possibility of him continuing his life as a nithkier. The usual course of action would be to kill them. After all, nithkier were demons and as soon as one was killed, another would be born, ready for training. However, Zen'tsen was an unusual case. He was the son of Níal Kieenson, one of the Jal Hyls' much-respected generals, and Ceshnaz, a high-level succubus. It was extremely rare for a succubus to give birth, especially one as powerful as her. She was one of the sources from which Dén drew his magic from, after all.

In his mind's eye, Dén pictured Zen'tsen. The young demi-human had inherited his mother's inhumanly beautiful features, the mesmerizing ruby red eyes, the deadly, sensuous grace with which he moved. From his father he took his height, his charm, his skills, and his dedication to his duty.

D'en sighed, "Níal, you know as well as I do that . . .".

"I will not allow him to be killed".

"Níal, I doubt he'll be killed". He saw his friend look at him in surprise, and plunged on, "Níal, he would be more valuable if he was sold off as che'lartan".

"What?!", Níal roared, jumping to his feet, "Have my only . . .".

D'en continued as though nothing had happened, "As you have boasted countless times, he is extremely attractive, though I doubt that came from your side. No doubt he would have his mother's sexual prowess . . .".

Níal gave him a sour look, "What? Has he been practicing on your elven sister?".

D'en's eyes flashed, and Níal found himself flying through the room, crashing against the lone table in the corner. "That was just a reminder to keep your comments of Kyris to yourself", the heir warned.

Níal grunted as he got up, brushing dust off himself with not even a scratch to mar him, "D'en, I refuse to allow my son to end up as a whore. He's my son for Tze'chean's sake!".

"One of his caliber would even attract the likes of Lord Idos", D'en remarked.

Níal glowered, "Zen will never fall into the hands of that perverted old bastard". After a few seconds passed, he sighed, "Right. I deserved that for even mentioning your sister into this". His tone became despairing, "But D'en! Not Zen. Not che'lartan".

"Would you rather death?".

"My own, yes".

"I think that can be arranged", D'en nodded. After another glance at his immobile sister, he continued, "Níal, we can't afford to lose you though. And before you mention it, I think I've done enough when I've first assigned Zen'tsen to Kyris. If it was up to my father, he'd rather a demon of Tzuj breed".

Níal snorted, "You yourself wanted Zen to take care of your sister. Because he has a conscience. Because he's got the capability to care to prevent your headstrong sister into doing whatever she pleases".

D'en scowled, "I can see I'm wrong then".

"I am sorry, Lord D'en. I tried to stop her, but I failed". The two necromancers turned to see Zen'tsen step out of the shadows, guilt and sorrow written on every single line of his lithe body. "I am sorry I could not stop the demon", he added softly, though more to the prone figure lying on the bed rather than to the necromancers.

"Zen'tsen, what happened?", D'en asked, turning his golden gaze upon the demi-human.

He had to give him credit; Zen refused to flinch under it. Instead, the nithkier started, "Kyris wanted to create the Ni'Khez and she did. At one point she thought something had gone wrong as there was no demon, so she stepped out of the seal. The demon had been waiting for that".

"Did you not warn her? Why didn't you stop her?".

A look of pain crossed Zen'tsen's expression for a fleeting second. If D'en had blinked, he would have missed it. "I tried, Lord D'en. But the demon fought against me. I managed to wound it slightly, but only as a result of surprise on its part".

"I meant my sister".

"Kyris . . . ?". Zen'tsen's eyes flickered towards her, "I tried. I warned her against it, but she told me it would all be ok. She refused to listen to me".

Throughout all this, Níal had remained silent. At this point though, he made a motion to his son, "You know you were supposed to stop her from being so reckless". Zen'tsen made no move to say anything to that.

A sudden groan dispersed the tension. "The hell . . .?". Kyris turned to look at the three in her room with puzzlement.

D'en, sensing her confusion, informed her, "You passed out".

"What?!", she asked incredulously, "You've got to be kidding me".

"You passed out", he repeated, and this time there was a hint of anger in his voice, "Kyris, what in the four hells were you thinking? Summoning Deikyala like that". Níal jerked his head up in astonishment, Zen'tsen paling. Kyris looked even more confused. "If Zen'tsen hadn't summoned me at that moment, she would most definitely have possessed you".

"That was Deikyala?". Kyris was surprised, "I didn't think . . .".

"The problem with you, dear deika, is that you never do", he said icily, "Thanks to you, you've released her and now I have to hunt her down and imprison her again".

"It's not my fault!", she protested, "I just wanted to summon a demon to bond to!".

Níal shot D'en a look, "It was Deikyala? D'en, you can't dismiss Zen'tsen then. There's hardly any other demon more powerful than her".

"It does not matter", he said with a shake of his head, "Father will not stand for this. Zen'tsen was supposed to protect Kyris from any harm, and prevent her from doing anything as stupid as creating Ni'Khez before she's ready".

"But nian!", she began, but her protest died on her lips as she realized what her brother had just said. "Zen . . .".

"Sirja summons me now", D'en turned to leave, "I have to go. Father does not like to be kept waiting". He paused for a second though, before saying, "Níal, I believe you have a meeting soon?". The tall warlord made no attempt to get up, but after meeting D'en's gaze, strode outside.

Just as he stepped outside, D'en glanced at the room where Kyris was resting. He probed the wards to assure himself they still held. Though he was confident of his abilities, he was also well aware of others'. He knew Deikyala to be possessive of her chosen, and she would be back to try claim Kyris again. 'Deika . . .', he thought to himself, 'If only you know the trouble you've just gotten yourself into'. As he gave them a final probing, he added silently, 'Perhaps it's for the best . . .'.

Once left alone, Kyris turned to look at her nithkier. He was leaning against the wall, crimson eyes gazing into space. There was no emotion whatsoever on his cold features. However, the stiffness in his lean frame betrayed his anger. "Zen?", she asked tentatively.
His eyes flickered, but otherwise he made no indication that he heard her. "Zen . . . what does nian plan to do?". She couldn't help but feel fear for him. Not only was he her nithkier, he was also her most trusted friend.

"H'atze . . . I must go now", he suddenly spoke up, his voice as soft as ever, "Sirja has summoned for me. I think they've reached a conclusion on my fate". With that, he headed for the door. Sensing Kyris' puzzlement and anxiety, he continued, "I'm sorry lian . . . I've failed you . . .".

"But Zen!", but he was gone.