Sooner Nation - FICTION

Little Sooner

*chuckles*

Putting Ahren and Sooner Magic together... 'careful whatcha wish for Sooner Spirit...

Part XII

Ciara's Prison - Centuries ago
Time passed slowly for a near immortal demonness trapped in a few underground rooms. Her last sight of the human's world had been those three red headed *******, and then her prison had slammed shut. Months passed into years and decades. Her rage waned and waxed before she regained enough control of herself to begin her efforts to regain her power and free herself. She began scrying into the human world, scrying into the future and the past, and saw that there was hope for her. She saw the pact, how it was made, and she saw that it would be broken, centuries later, but it would break. The question remained, though, whether it would bring her freedom or her death. Either possibility could come to pass, and she intended to stack the odds in her own favor.

More years passed while she learned the circumstances of her future. The possibilities branched endlessly but she saw ways she could manipulate things in her favor. She saw the woman who might give birth to the third. There was man, a soldier, the father. If he died in battle, the third daughter would be born. if he lived, it would be another century before another possibility arose. She marked that event, and looked further. She would be sure he died.

She identified the time and place where the sisters would start to draw their power. It was an open plain at that time, but would be home to three sisters in a few centuries. It was far across the ocean from the island where ó Floinn made its home. Many things would change for ó Floinn, she saw, including one branch of the family crossing the ocean and finding its way to those plains.

She spent her captive hours at her scrying ball, and traced back and forth across time and place, seeking a servant. She would need eyes, ears, and hands when the time came. And there it was. She found her way to a pair of young tribesmen. She watched them, sensing that the next moments were important. One of them was tall, handsome, well-built. His hair was black and coarse and worn in a long, thick braid that hung down his back. He wore a loincloth and carried a handmade knife, which he used to skin his kill - a muscular buck, with an impressive rack of antlers. The young man had killed it with nothing but his knife. His pride was clear, and Ciara understood that he would now be considered a man among his tribe. Unfortunately for the hunter, another young man hid nearby, and Ciara watched him sneak closer. The second was smaller with one leg twisted and weak. He would never have had the strength to chase down a deer and kill it, but he had still been sent out to try, and undoubtedly either die or endure lifelong shame for his failure. The smaller man's face was twisted and bitter, and Ciara could see what he intended.

This young man would be her tool, and his family down the generations would follow. He longed for power and prestige that would never be his without her help. She waited until after he struck, killing his tribemate with treachery and guile, then sent one of her imps to him. She instructed the imp to take on the form of a raccoon, knowing he would trust an animal spirit more quickly. The deal was struck over the body of the dead hunter. The ancestor of the man who would take the name Akando claimed the kill of the dead hunter, and accepted the gift of magic from the demoness, swearing his family into her service. In return for that service, his family would become powerful in the tribe, shaping the future of the tribe, making decisions that would put her servant Akando in position to do her will centuries later.

Akando's studio
Akando felt the summons and avoided it. He had nothing to tell Ciara Banenighe, and she would not accept that well. But he simply could not get to the youngest Nation girl. Not in a way that wouldn’t attract considerable negative attention.

And his mistress seemed to blame him for Caryn Nation leaving as well. As if he’d ever had any influence on her. And the youngest hardly set foot off campus and went everywhere at full speed. There was no attracting her attention with a kata display on campus, or a graceful session in his studio. And many people would look askance at a middle aged man approaching an 18 year gold.

The summons became uncomfortably painful, and he braced himself before turning to the mirror hidden far inside his studio. He drew the curtain back and touched the frame. Ciara appeared, beautiful and terrifying.

“Useless human!” she bellowed at him. “You are a waste of life! Your ancestors who served me before you would be ashamed at how you have disappointed me!”

“I am sorry, Ciara. The girl is inaccessible to me.”

“Find a way to make her accessible, you fool! And don’t let this one escape you as the others did!”

“I could hardly-”

“Enough excuses!” Ciara roared at him. “You have one reason for your continuing existence: Bring the Nation girls into their magic. Of your three chances to obey this simple command, you have failed twice! You will succeed with the youngest, or I may bring you here to me.”

Akando blanched. He resisted the urge to remind her that he had succeeded with Cydney. Instead, he nodded his head and said, “I will not let you down,”

“You will not let me down, again,” Ciara corrected him, and the mirror went blank.

Praetoria - months later.
“Oh my God, Ahren....” Caryn marveled as they rounded the last turn in the winding cave and saw Tyrant’s throne room for the first time. The pair crouched behind a rock jutting from the otherwise smooth stone wall. The immense room beyond was dark and filled with the brimstone stench of the steaming lava on either side. The red glow reflected off the ancient statues and pillars lining the walls. And at the back... “Is that Statesman?”

Ahren peered through the scope of his REPR. “Yep.” he confirmed. “And Tyrant on the ground, with at least a dozen of Marauder’s men between us and him.”

“If Tyrant could beat Statesman, what can we do against him?”

Ahren glanced at her. “If we head back to our earth to get help, we may not be able to get back in time.” He patted his belt pouch. “You see if you can get him over here, and I’ll see if I can knock some of the tough off him.”

She knew her doubt showed on her face, but she’d learned to trust Ahren over the months they’d been partnered together. He might be new to his current career, but his experience as a hero before he took up his rifle showed in his tactics, knowledge of the complex structure of some villain groups and, most currently, in the bizarre realities of the Praetorians. If Ahren believed they could do this, she was willing to give it a try.

“I’ll see if I can clear out some of Marauder’s men before I attract Tyrant’s attention,” she said.

“I’ve got your back,” Ahren agreed.

The pair had worked out exactly as Cydney had hoped. Ahren had stepped comfortably into the role of mentor, Caryn had initially resisted her role as his student, but she couldn't help but respect Ahren's knowledge and experience. Over time, they grew to trust each other, and it seems that the hurts that had crippled them both began to heal. Ahren wasn't the man he'd been - and how could he be with his other half gone? - but he was comfortable with who he'd become. And Caryn had finally succeeded in putting her past behind her and looking forward. In so doing, she'd become a hero to make her sister, her mentor, and her friends among the Ghosts proud.

Caryn darted forward and flew at the first rampager. A powerful kick to the jaw, followed by a spinning kick to the gut took out the first, and a leg sweep dropped the second. Her feet, knees, elbows and fists found their targets again and again, smashing jaws, cheekbones, and occasionally teeth. She ruined knees, fractured ribs, and caused multiple concussions. And the Praetorians she didn’t take out were dropping one after another from Ahren’s expert marksmanship. All the while, the bright colors of the magic flowed into her, and she saw the world with a shimmering rainbow overlay. She no longer found it distracting, and sometimes it gave her interesting information. Like the magical bonds on Statesman were being powered by Tyrant himself. Which meant both that he would not be exerting his full power against them, and that defeating him should be all that was necessary to free Statesman.

Then she pressed her luck just a little too far and Tyrant spotted her. He spun to face her, “Statesman will never be free!” he bellowed. He charged toward Caryn and she let out an entirely girly shriek, “No! Don’t hurt me!” she cried, and ran from the room. She darted around the corner past Ahren and dived for cover, peeking up just in time to see Tyrant set off Ahren’s traps and go flying. Ahren rose smoothly from his crouch and began firing, while Caryn darted back in. She lept up and landed with both feet on Tyrant’s chest just as he got his feet back under him. He shook his head, and then that face - so like Statesman’s - focused on her. “You’re a fool, Caryn Nation,” he said, “I killed your counterpart when she tried to challenge my power, why do you think you can stop me now?”

“You’re not real,” she responded, and smashed her foot into his face.

She stumbled back when his fist sank into her belly before she could dodge aside. She coughed and danced back to get her balance again as he responded, “Real enough to finish you!”

Behind her she heard Ahren’s quiet warning, “Duck.” and she dived aside just as Ahren unloaded a storm of bullets into Tyrant. Most of them bounced uselessly off his armor, but a few found their mark. Tyrant’s body jerked back and forth under the onslaught and Caryn waited, timing her leap perfectly so that when the bullets stopped, she was there. She lept into the air and planted her foot firmly on Tyrant’s upper chest, pushed, and spun in midair. She landed nimbly and snapped a kick right into his jaw. And he dropped.

For just a moment, all was still. Like that ominous silence just before a storm breaks, then all the swirling rainbow colored light in the room rushed into Caryn. She was filled with it, filled to overflowing. She gasped in surprise... then it was over, and Statesman... THE Statesman stood in front of her. He offered his hand, “Thank you, Sooner Magic,” he said, his large, powerful hand wrapping around hers. “I have been watching your career from some time.”

He turned to Ahren then, “I’m not surprised to see you here, Ahren. You always have fought the good fight.”

Statesman turned back to Caryn, “Let’s go home.”

Ciara's Lair
Ciara Banenighe explored newly available areas of her lair. Akando was a fool and near useless, but the Nation girls were drawing the magic. The process was slow, but the glow from the first orb was nearly gone, the second flickered weakly, and the third, while still bright and steady, had several small flaws. And each time the daughters ó Floinn drew on their magic, the barriers that trapped Ciara drew back a little more.

She was delighted to discover that she now had access to her trophy room. She trailed her clawed fingers over the prizes she’d claimed when she was free to walk the human world. Many of them were items taken from the woman ó Floinn she’d killed. She ran a red-gold braid threw her fingers and smiled, savoring the memory of the slow death of the woman from whom she’d taken the beautiful, long braid.

She dropped her prize and whirled about when the magic hit her. For just a moment, the barriers dropped completely; she felt it. Then they wavered and slowly reformed. Ciara raced out of the trophy room, flying further than she’d been in centuries. The barriers had dropped all the way to the borders of her lair. She was at the opening before she even found the gleaming wall. When she placed her clawed hands against it, it felt like soggy paper. She laughed aloud and returned to her throne room. There she saw that the second cabochon sphere had gone dark. She held it in her hands, threw back her head and laughed.

Colleen's home
Colleen Nation sat in the shade of a lovely cedar gazebo on a warm afternoon. The day was lovely and sunny, and she smiled as her dainty calico McCalli lolled about in sun soaked leaves. The house was lonely and quiet now that Cerise had left, and she considered once again whether she should sell the house and find herself someplace smaller. But, it was the house she and Daniel had picked out together, and every time she considered moving, it felt like she would be leaving a little piece of Daniel behind.

She felt the magic stir. She’d gotten used to feeling it since her daughters began pulling on it more and more, but this was strong enough that she knew something significant must have happened. She rose gracefully, intending to call Cydney or Caryn and makesure everything was ok, when the phone on the wall in the kitchen began its shrill ring. Colleen trotted to answer it, and was greeted by an angry voice so thick with Ireland that at first she couldn’t even understand.

“What the devil are your girls playing at over there, Colleen?” she finally made out.

“Gran?” Colleen asked. The elderly woman on the other end of a very long cable was furious, and the voice was strained.

“Don’t give me this ‘Gran,’ nonsense, girl! Don’t you know it’s not just you and yours that will hurt for this? The Beast will come for all of the women of ó Floinn! For that matter, our men will pay the price as well for your foolish and selfish actions!”

Colleen paused to get her temper under control before answering. “What would you suggest, Gran? It’s a little late-”

“It’s too late already! Too late by far! You doomed us all when you chose-”

“Stop right there, Gran,” Colleen broke in. “These are my daughters we’re discussing. If you have a helpful suggestion, I’d love to hear it. Otherwise, the topic of my choice to have three children is closed." Colleen paused to take a deep breath, then continued. "You could try helping us find answers. You’re right there, Gran, right where it happened. FIND us a way to fix this. There has to be a journal, a history... something.”

A long silence on the other end drew out until her grandmother sighed. “I was about to say too much. I had hoped to die of old age while asleep in my bed, not torn apart by a Beast. Child, I know the end is coming soon for us all. But I had expected it to happen when your third daughter was born. I don’t know why it hasn’t. Perhaps there is an answer.”

“Find it Gran. If anyone can, I know you can.”

“You have my love, Colleen.”

“Goodbye, Gran.”

Ciara's lair
Ciara Banenighe stalked the enlarged confines of her prison. Entire rooms and halls and caverns were open to her now. She could stretch her wings and fly finally. But it was still a prison.

One more daughter ó Floinn needed to start using her power to shatter the last crystal. Then all she would need would be their lives, and the prison would be broken. And free of the need for entire line to continue. She would hunt down and kill every last decedent ó Floinn that drew breath. She would rip out their throats with her claws, break their necks, chew out their hearts....

She entertained herself imagining the carnage, but it was past time she reclaimed a most valuable asset and the barriers had dropped enough that she should be able to summon him to her. Conall Cian was her prize, her favorite among her followers. His fury, his frustration at being compelled to obey was delicious, and it have been far far too long since she'd had the opportunity to summon him to her. It was time they became reaquainted. She waved her hand over the crystal and saw him there. He was settled in a throne-like chair, brooding, with a delicate female imp crouched just behind the throne. He was in conversation with a man who appeared human, but even through the crystal, Ciara could tell that he was much more than human.

She assessed her power carefully. There was likely to be a battle here soon, and she must win it. She nodded, thoughtfully. It should be enough. She reached for him and watched him jerk to his feet. His face was furious.

“This should be most excellent....” she muttered aloud. She pulled at him and watched him set his feet and hunch his shoulders as he attempted to resist her call. She wrapped her magic around the reins that controlled him. “Come to me!” She commanded. The pressure between them built. She felt the moment he relented like taut rope snapping. He ripped a portal into her prison. He stood there, head lowered like a bull about to charge, wings flared around his body, his shoulders heaving with his breath.

“Magnificent...” she murmured to herself, then raised her voice to purr at him, “It is good to see you again, my Conall. Come to me."

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Oh ****.

Part XIII

Ciara's Prison
Conall Cian made one brusque gesture to his own followers, the man and the imp, and stepped through the portal.. Ciara cocked a brow when the man stepped back but the imp cast a dark look at the man and then scurried after, dogging Conall's heels into Ciara's presence. The portal closed, and then her still untamed pet stood before her. Ciara ignored the imp as beneath her, but she did run her gaze up Conall's body. “Come and kneel before me, my Conall,” she smiled. “I would have you at my feet once again.” Her words were vicious and deliberate barbs to his pride and each one had its intended effect. He straightened, drew himself up, but stalked across the room to her.

She waited, watching him come to her. Oh, he had grown so much more powerful. And one day he would break free from her. But... today would not be that day.

He stopped in front of her, his power oozing off his body like fog off a lake at dawn. His muscles tremored like a man holding a load at the limit of his strength. His wings flared and his eyes burned, but he folded his legs beneath him and knelt beside her. His little imp crept around and crouched just behind him, nearly hidden in the shadows of his wings.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice a growl forced out through his clenched teeth.

"No concerned greetings? No expressions of delight at discovering me well?" She laughed. "No... no concern from my pet. I should have collared you, to remind you to whom you belong"

He was silent, though she fancied she could hear the thoughts tumbling in his head. Finally he spoke again, "What do you want, Ciara?"

“I want you to bring me the three sisters ó Floinn. I want to kill them, take their power, and finally be free.” He looked up at her, his eyes burning. She waited, but he didn't ask for more information. He was motionless before her, but the imp moved even closer behind him, her discomfort was plain. Ciara laughed again, enjoying his anger and frustration. She'd forgotten just how delicious they were. "But for this moment, I want you kneeling at my feet." She uttered a low, sultry purr. “It pleases me to have you here again, my Conall.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on his head, like a master stroking a valued hound. She could feel those fine tremors and knew he was at the limits of his self control. She would push him past it and let him learn quickly that she still controlled him. She leaned over him, placed her lips at his ear. “I still own you,” she breathed. She stroked her hand down his back and felt his muscles tense. She felt the moment he decided to try her.

He moved faster than she expected, so fast she had no time to react at all. His fist slammed straight up into her face, then again as he rose to his feet in an explosion of power. He punched her again and again and again, his fists too fast to even see. She stumbled back. He was even more powerful now than she’d realized, and a glance at his imp revealed that she was helping him, pouring her power into him as well. Ciara spread her wings and rose into the air to try to gain some room, but he lifted up after her. They dove and spiraled up and around like a pair of raptors, clawing and swooping about. He caught her and brought his fist down on her in a move that stunned her and knocked her from the air. She tumbled down, spinning, trying to shake off the blow. It was his first mistake. It gave her the time she needed to recover. She spread her wings, using the momentum from her out of control fall to gain speed and soar up high above him. More importantly, it got her away from him, away from the terrifying power of his fists.

She laughed, “Now, THAT’S my Conall...” she taunted. “You never disappoint.” She laughed again and unleashed her power, knocking him twisting and fighting away from her. When he zipped back up towards her, she struck him backhanded, following up with a blast of fire from her palms. His fury was plain on his face, but he should never have given her the chance to regain her feet. She drove him back, blow after blow, and blast after blast. He was powerful but she was older and her power came from a deep, ancient pool that he could never match. Once she had the upper hand, she took her time, delivering a thorough beating. She punched, kicked, clawed, bit, and burned him. He never stopped fighting her even when he couldn’t stand any more. He collapsed to hands and knees, still trying to fight her while coughing up a bloody froth, and from the shadows, she heard his imp utter a dismayed wail. He tilted his head to look up her, his eyes filled with frustrated fury.

She crouched in front of him. “Say it, Conall.” She demanded.

He coughed again, wiped the blood from his mouth with a bloodied and broken hand, and his gaze dropped. His eyes still burned as he stared at the floor, at the drops of his own blood there.. He took a deep breath, held it, and breathed out, “You own me.”

Ciara laughed, the light sound of a delighted school girl with a new toy. “You!” she pointed at the cowering and terrified imp. “You can fix him?” The imp nodded and scurried to Conall’s side. Her eyes burned like Conall’s, and she never took her gaze from Ciara as she poured her power into him. Under the imp’s care, bones re-knit, flesh closed, and bruises faded. Conall climbed slowly to his feet. Without a word, he knelt again beside Ciara. She placed her hand on his head and stroked him. “Bring me the daughters of the clan ó Floinn, my pet.”

“Tell me how to find them,” he answered grimly.

---
He seethed, he burned, he was fury. He did not allow himself to flinch when Ciara stroked his head again, he knew she did it just to drive home her point. He saw his plans tattering and blowing away on the wind from this *****’s wings. It maddened him.

“This one, my Conall.” She gestured and the large clear crystal fogged then formed an image. A young woman, barely more than a girl, appeared in the crystal. She was engaged in animated conversation with someone not in view. She was pretty, tall, slender, pale skin, green eyes, and strawberry blonde hair held back in ponytails. He frowned. She looked very familiar to him, yet he was certain he’d never seen her before. “You will aid my human minion in bringing this one into her magic. Then, my pet, you will bring her and her sisters to me.”

Ciara gestured again, and the image of the girl was replaced with another of two women. He jerked with surprise, then made a show of shifting position in hopes of hiding his reaction. He knew these two. And the family resemblance was why he’d thought he’d known the other. He didn’t know, yet, what Ciara wanted from them, but these two were powerful heroes. She might well be asking for more than she realized.

“Yes, Ciara, I will make sure they are brought to your presence. I will see to it.”

Conall's Lair
The more research he did, the more hopeful he became. Who would have imagined that mortal enemies could be his salvation. Who have believed that there would ever be a day when he and any members of the Ghosts Reborn would have the same goals? But the more he learned about how Ciara had been imprisoned, the more he saw that he, Sooner Spirit, Sooner Magic, and their young sister all needed the same thing - the destruction of Ciara Banenighe.

He caught movement from the corner of his eye and saw Excruciatrix nearby lurking in the shadows, her red eyes flicking from him to Arano nearby. He shook his head, perplexed as always by her behavior, then turned back to his musing.

Did they know? He suspected not. If the story had been carried down through the generations, the third sister would never have been born. “Never again would three sisters born to the line ó Floinn ever be...” he spoke aloud.

At his voice, Excruciatrix ducked back into the shadows. He scowled and turned towards her. “You! Come to me!” he commanded.

She hesitated, reluctant to leave the shadows, then Arano sighed, looking up from the thick, dusty tome in his lap. "Obey your master, you worthless thing! If I were your master, I would beat you daily until your ceased your defiance!"

While Conall cast a warning glance on his ally, Trix hunkered down, then scurried into the light and darted to him, dropping quickly into a crouch at his feet. She glanced up at him once, showing her red eyes ablaze, then looked down at the floor. Her wings were held tightly to her body and she seemed to be trying to take up as little space as possible.

He absently placed a possessive hand on her head, on her human-like yellow hair. She flinched, then froze, then deliberately leaned into his touch.

“Why do you not fight me?!” he asked irritably.

She glanced up at him, “I do not understand,” she said.

“Did you want to be bound to me?” he asked.

She shook her head and answered softly, “No.”

“Did you want to come here with me?”

“No,” she said again.

“Do you want to obey me?”

She turned her burning eyes to him and said with some force, “No!”

Arano interjected a loud, "Hah!" and Trix flinched, pressing even more firmly into his legs.

“Then why do you? Why do you not fight?” He clenched his fist in her hair. “Why do you stay nearby? Why do you not run from me until I call?”

She was silent for a long moment and he tightened his grip until she whimpered slightly. “I cannot win against you... yet.” She flinched as she dared to utter that last word, yet the honesty of it caused him to release his grip. “If I fight you, you will hurt me. If I fight you too much, you may imprison me, or kill me.” She fell silent, looking down, then turned her eyes to him again. “As Ciara Banenighe may yet kill you....” She leaned into his legs, like a pet seeking comfort. “It was not my choice, but my fate is now tied to yours. As you become more powerful, so do I.” she sighed. “It is to my benefit to aid you as I can.” She looked down again, and her voice was quiet as she asked, “What becomes of me if she kills you?”

They both knew the answer, but after her honesty, he didn’t begrudge her the words, “You would become hers.”

She let out a small, low cry. “No, no.... If I have to answer to another, not... her.”

He sat back, thinking of Excruciatrix’s words. “The three sisters ó Floinn,” he said finally and stroked her hair again. “The sisters ó Floinn can free us both of The Beast.”

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I'm happy to be cheering on Connall ! GREAT writing !

I THOUGHT he would wind up being an asset to them. ;p

Sooner, if I remember right, 'Trix is one of your characters, right? Would it be possible to get a screenshot of her and Conall together? I keep seeing her in my minds eye ans somewhere between the size of the VetPet imp and Baby New Year.

I am LOVING the story of all the intertwined demons!

Conall's not as large as I pictured him. I pictured him with the huge build and maxed height. still, thanks for the pictures! That rocks!

Look at Trix next to him. She could walk under his legs without crouching - though he might want to tiptoe just a bit... those tiny little horns are sharp.



Anyways... the next chapter is probably going up tonight. Just polishing it up a bit.

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Ice did this image also to post. It shows Conall in his true form, and two of the human forms he can take. The one to the right, the detective, is the "cop" form, and is the most common form he takes. The one on the left is a slightly more grown up (young teen, or maybe even pre-teen) form of little Christopher Newman, who, you may recall, Conall used as a conduit into this world.

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Part XIV

Campus Corner
Cerise twirled before the three way mirror in the back of a tiny little antique clothing shop just off campus corner. The dress was perfect for initiation. A flapper style dress, festooned with strings of multicolored beads. The fabric of the skirt stopped mid thigh, and strands of shimmering beads hung from the hem down to the knees, creating a beautiful, shimmering dance of color that moved and flowed with the wearer. The dress itself was bright fuschia, with red and blue lace trim, ribbon details over the bodice and rainbows of sequins and beads decorating it. She'd already found a pair of low heeled pumps, covered with glistening crystals, with a wash of color that started with sunshine yellow over the toes then darkened to a deep, rich purple. She thought she might try doing her hair up like the Irish girl from her dream, with curls and ribbons. While it made a large dent in her budget, she thought the brightly colored outfit would be completely perfect for next weeks initiation ceremony. Then she'd be a full Chi-O-S sister, and would be eligible to move into the house the next semester.

She glanced at her watch and realized that if she didn't move, she'd be late for cheer practice. She quickly changed back into her jeans and hot pink Chi-O-S t-shirt, paid for the dress, and ran to the nearest CART stop. She couldn't wait for initiation!

As she ran, her shopping bag flung over one shoulder and her long-legged jog carrying her quickly and nimbly down the narrow sidewalk, she never noticed Akando sitting nearby watching her, frustration - and maybe a tinge of dread - clear on his face.

Ciara's Lair
Conall held his temper with an iron grip. Ciara had summoned him again, and he wanted to give her no excuse at all to demonstrate her power over him. He knew he couldn’t break free of her, as much as that knowledge rankled within him. Until he could hope to fight her and win, it was in his best interests not to fight at all. He glanced down at Excruciatrix, clinging to his left side, always just behind his wing. Perhaps there was something to be learned from her, he thought. She certainly had an easier time in his service that he had in Ciara’s.

Ciara lounged in her throne, her lush body draped strategically with a rich velvet cloak with a deep sable fur collar. Her imps were huddled in a far corner, which indicated her mood was more volatile than she displayed. He drew in one resolute breath, determined to give her no reason to push him, and stalked to her side. With only a brief hesitation, he knelt at her side as she preferred. Excruciatrix crouched, keeping Conall as a shield between herself and Ciara.

Conall didn’t allow himself to flinch when Ciara placed one possessive hand on his head and stroked. “My Conall...” she murmured. “My pet. Look there.”

His eyes followed her hand to a silvery cage suspended from the stone ceiling. A cage that held a human male. The cage was too small to allow him to stand straight, and too narrow to allow him to sit. The human was young, with the coloration and features of a type they called Native American. From Conall’s own experience with Ciara, he knew that the anger and defiance in the young man’s expression would do no good for his health or comfort .

Conall took in the sight, considering if it were intended as a threat or a warning. Without ever taking his eyes from the human, he asked, casually, “Who is the meatsack?”

Ciara laughed, the light bell-tones of a girl at a party. “The human is called Benjamin Tenkiller. He was once special to the second of the ó Floinn girls,” she said.

“And because one of them loved him, you make him suffer?”

“He attempted to interfere with my plans for her. But that is not the point.”

“What do you want, Ciara?” Conall asked finally.

Her hand flexed and he felt the points of her claws press into his skin. But then she relaxed and laid her hand flat again.

"You have delayed long enough. It is past time you obeyed me."

Conall waited, but she seemed to want a response from him. "Tell me what you want from me."

“There is a group of young women. They had targeted the second sister and when she refused them, they took control of this human’s mind to punish her. That same group now has their grip tightening on the third. I do not understand their power, but they will not be allowed to succeed. All three will be mine. These women cannot be allowed to take control of her power. You will go there. You will meet with my worthless human servant Akando who will make this situation more clear. You will extract the youngest daughter ó Floinn, and you will encourage her to take up her power.”

Curious how she would respond, Conall asked, "Would it not be easier to kill her before she becomes powerful?"

Ciara's mood changed in a flash. She turned on him, slashing his face to the bone with her claws. "Do not DARE to question me on this!" she spat.

Conall froze, controlling his temper with an iron fist as his blood dripped down his body to pool on the floor. He raised on hand to his face, feeling the tatters of flesh there. "Trix..." he murmured quietly, and waited while her soothing magic healed the wounds as if they hadn't occured. When the last of the pain had faded, he glanced up at the man in the cage again. “She loved him...” he mused.

“She did. Very much. And now he's mine.”

Conall nodded. "I leave tonight."

University of Oklahoma Campus
Conall crouched atop the clock tower over Bizell library, looming over the campus like an enormous living gargoyle. He stared down at the human youths scurrying about and pondered the foolishness of humans, gathering their young - their best and brightest - in a place like this. How easy it would be for even a small group of his followers to destroy this place, or make them all captives. And there were places like this all over the county... no.. all over the world. It was typical human arrogance, but anything that would make his eventual conquest of this world easier was something he would appreciate. If he could just get free of the ***** first.

He had not yet made contact with Ciara’s human servant, though he had been ordered to do so. He would, he had no choice but to obey, but he wanted to observe and understand more before he did. He had been ordered to contact this Akando, but not to obey him. He wondered if Ciara realized that. He also wondered how a human could conspire with a demon against his own kind. Negotiation with a demon was tricky, and humans with their weak wills and trusting minds were ill equipped to dance to that music. Such deals rarely worked out to the benefit of the human, and yet... they continued to try.

His target came into view. She was even prettier in person, her youth still shining on her face, her slender frame tall and graceful. She was animated and happy, engaged in a laughing conversation with the two young women with her. Conall frowned as he watched the trio. Magic ran powerful indeed in Sooner Spirit and Sooner Magic, so he was not surprised to see it in their youngest sister, but the two women with her... there was a strong and dark magic there as well. His frown deepened. Very strong and very dark. The regal blonde was filled with it and the brunette with her was nearly as powerful.

Ahead of the trio, Ciara’s human servant hobbled out onto the sidewalk. Conall knew Akando had had no luck making contact with Cerise Nation, and now it appeared he was resorting to subterfuge. The fit and healthy Akando limped along with a cane, making a fair imitation of a man barely able to walk. As the trio approached, his leg appeared to give out and he tumbled to the ground. The blonde and the brunette walked past ignoring the fallen man completely, but Cerise, in a soft-hearted fashion consistent with her sisters, crouched to help him up. Conall observed the interaction, and smiled when Cerise stayed only long enough to make sure Akando was steady on his feet again and then hurried off with her friends. Oh... this would be a challenge indeed.

Akando's studio
Akando was filled with furious frustration as he walked into his studio on campus corner. Ciara’s impatience grew the closer she came to being free, and Akando desperately needed something to tell her. He stepped into the back office area, flipped on the lights, and stumbled back. Standing before him was an enormous demon with wings flared and glowing red eyes. Crouched at his feet, peering from behind his powerful legs, was a tiny female with flaming eyes and dainty fangs bared.

“You are a fool,” the demon growled.

“Who are you?” Akando demanded.

“Who I am is not important, that I am here to correct your failures is all that matters.”

Akando paused, “She sent you?”

“You have proven yourself inadequate to the job. She sent me to see that you do not fail again.”

The huge demon was terrifying, and Akando found that it was much harder to behave as if unimpressed when the demon was in the same room rather than merely a vision in a mirror. Still, he took a moment to get his breathing under control before answering, “The girl is nearly impossible to reach. Her sisters were a challenge, but this girl... she is constantly surrounded. I can’t get to her without raising suspicion.”

“I am not interested in your excuses, human,” The demon stalked into the room, and the tiny one at his feet scurried after him, always managing to keep the larger one between her and Akando. “I am interested in what your mistress could have promised you to make you betray your own kind.”

“What are you talking about? I serve her, my family has served her for generations. I’m not betraying anyone!”

“Your family... what did she promise your family, then?

Akando summoned magic to him and dark energy flared around his fists. “Power. She promised my family magic. Because of her, we became powerful shaman of our people, and to this day my family is still important in tribal politics. Our arrangement with her has been good for my family, for my people. As for me... she has promised me all three girls when she is done with them.”

“Has she?” Conall asked with a crooked smile. Abruptly the demon was surrounded by a dark energy. It filled the building with its power. Akando could barely breath. “Your family was cheated. She gave you a mere fraction of the power you could have claimed. Instead of stealing power within your tribe, you could have ruled your tribe, every other tribe, and kept your lands sovereign.” The demon let his power fade away. “You have been lied to and cheated, as will always happen when humans attempt to play at bargains with demons. You think you will have your dreams, your rather pathetic dreams... but you will die at demonic hands, human... You will not have the girls, you will not have your power, you will not have your life.” Akando was stunned into silence. What kind of help had Ciara sent? The silence stretched out... then the demon spoke again. “Here is what will happen. I will capture the girl by force and bring her to you. Then, she will come to trust the gallant rescuer who saves her from the one she believes kidnaped her.

Akando considered it. The huge demon was terrifying. He didn't know how it would reach Cerise, but once it did, the girl would be panicked. And then Akando would “save” Cerise from the demon, gaining her trust and gratitude. “It’s similar to the way I earned the trust of her oldest sister,” he agreed. It should work for this one as well.

“When I bring her here, follow my lead, human, and everything will work out as I have foreseen.”

Read my stories!

Is that really the same thing? Did Conall promise anything to Akando? All I saw him say was "Your ancestor was an idiot. You're not much smarter. You're going to die badly. I'm in charge now."

Hey one thing I can do is cut through bureaucracy.