Markiel

Madadh looked at Hermod's hand, noticing the faint glow of magic that encompassed him. "Yes I see that now, I wonder why I didn't notice earlier."

He then turned his gaze to Delors saying, "My name is Madadh, and it isn't spirits that plague me. Its a demon." He pulled down slightly on his gray leather jacket, revealing an infernal mark on the right side of his neck. "I'm actually only 14," He said, his deep voice sounded on the verge of cracking. His gray hair shook as a sob shuddered through his body. "I was trying to summon one, and I wound up with it inside me." Tears streamed from his eyes as he slumped down into the newly remade chair.

"After the ritual I blacked out, but I came to among the bodies of my family. My body had been changed, and everything felt so different," He completely broke down at this point, his massive body wracked with internal pain.

"Thank you," he mumbled to Shaye. He stood up slowly, looking down at the broken chair in embarrassment. "I'm very sorry about that ma'am," He said looking over at Delors. "I'll find some way to pay for it," He glanced about nervously, then directed his wild eyed gaze back to Delors. "You can do magic can't you," he said timidly, as if he was afraid to ask.

At the mention of the word magic the shadows about Madadh gave off a faint whisper, almost as if the word itself had brought them to life.

Madadh looked at Hermod. "I ah, made a mistake," He said simply, a pained expression coming to his face.

Madadh Allaidh walked down the streets of Kings Row. His massive form and dark aura parting the crowds before him. Those who happened to pass by close enough heard dark whisperings emitting from the shadows that stuck close to the hulking form.

"Never, never enough, I have to keep fightin'," Madadh said to himself.

Suprisingly something answered him, "Just let it go, give in and let uss easse your pain," the insidious voice whispered. "We know what is besst for you, we can make it all go away,"

"no, No, NO!," shouted the disturbed being, lashing about at the shadows around him. The shadows drifted about lazily, Madadh's fists having little effect upon them.

Snarling in frustration, he brought both his fists up and smashed the sidewalk below him to pieces. He sat there for a second, seathing, listening for the sound of the voices that haunted him. Silence, beautifull, golden silence, was the only thing about him for just a moment, then the sounds of the city rushed back to him, and he remembered where he was.

He glanced about, but he was all alone on his side of the street now. All the civilians had run in terror, and there where even a few policemen he spotted walking briskly away. He felt a slight tug in his chest, and knew instantly that somewhere nearby there was a being of magic.

He gazed about, trying to find its source, and found himself drawn to a small, comely, diner. He stepped inside, looking at the few supers that were already in the place, but none of them where the source he had felt.

Just then Delors stepped out from the kitchen with the cobbler and Madadh's jaw dropped. This! This was the source of the power he had felt. He couldn't believe it. He plopped down onto a chair in amazement, only to have it break underneath him, sending him sprawling to the ground.