He who follows the path of fel and corruption.[completed]

[ruwendje44]

The Welcoming

Spoiler:

Chapter one: The welcoming
Chapter Two: Initiation
Chapter three: The first encounter
Chapter Four: Taking It Abroad
Chapter Five : Rehab
Chapter six: It takes everything
Chapter Seven: As rough as it may get
Chapter Eight: Practise makes perfect.

“You've returned Mistal'aerix…”

Fel magic is the source that brought this man back to the coven where it all begane.
It was the taste of foul magic that made him realise that power was the only source to succes.
No one would ever try to do this, if it wasn't for the pure satisfaction... The taste, the feeling the satisfaction to become one with what he was actually trying to control.

As Mistal stepped into the dark room, lit by three small burning candles places upon a very elegant looking desk. A man raised from his chair that was standing behind it.
The man bowed before Mistal and waved with his hand. The candles started to burn brighter, revealling more of the room Mistal just entered. A woman covered in black attire and two human males stood up as well, nodding at the Sin'dorei that just entered the room.

“It has taken you long enough to return to your-...”
The man waved around the room and smirked at Mistal.
“... former -but- comfortable home.”
The smirk disappeared again and made way for a more mysterious expression.
“We have missed you, Aeliana...”
The woman said while she took a step into Mistal's direction, revealling more of herself.
It was a young Sin'dorei woman. She wore a black robe, and a black cowl covering her face.
Her eyes who were as bright as that of mistal showing her association with the Fel.
Mistal knew that it was Imaera Sunfury, who was hidden under that cowl.
But her voice seemed harsher than he remembered.

“The vial... Show me the vial.” The man said and extracted an arm. “We have to be sure that you still have it.”
Mistal started to grab for his pouch, but as he did a burning pain went through his body, making him bend through his knees and tackle his fall by stretching his arms and break the fall.
Blood started to pour out of his noseholes as he lowered himself on his stomache and tried to endure the pain.
“Too slow, Mistal'aerix...” The man said as he grinned and took a few steps into Mistal's direction.
“S-stop!” Mistal said under his breathe. “I-... I brought...Aw!” Mistal turned onto his back and started shaking.
“This is what you will have to endure, everyday... Everyday, Darn filth!” The man released the curse upon Mistal's body. “Now give me the vial, and hurry!”
As Mistal slowly got to his knees, he grabbed the small vial out of his pouch and gave it to the man.
“Good...” The man smiled at Mistal. “Get up. And clean that hiddious face of yours.”
Mistal stood up as fast as he could, but bended over and started to vommit.
“Ha, and you want to become one of us? You want to experience the true nature of Fel?!”
“Y-yes..” Mistal made a second attempt to stand straight. He wiped his mouth and looked at the man with a blank expression. “Yes I want to become one of you!”
A high pitched laugh filled the room. A laugh so foul, so sharp it would send a chill through the touchest of men's spine.


The horrible laugh came from Imaera.
Mistal couldn't place the laugh at first, but when he looked at the woman who was just two steps away from him, he saw the small cracks next to her eyes.
Green glowing cracks, revealling what she had become.
He realised that the old Imaera was gone, or maybe hidden behind those awful cracks.
But somewhere he knew that it would not be easy to ever get to that old Imaera again.
And if it was possible, the person who would try to break through that hard skin, would have been close to death himself.

Mistal pulled his robes straight again and looked back to the man.
“I willingly ask you to train me, master.”
He bowed elegantly before the man.
The man nodded and started to rub his chin. Long black hair that was covering half of the man's shoulders moved a bit as the man did so.
He took a small step into Mistal's direction and cleared his throat before speaking.
“...This won't be like any of the other trainings you have completed so far, Mistal'aerix.
And your powers shall be put to the test on a more devastating way than you can ever imagine.
By asking for my permission to train you,
you need to be aware that death may find you earlier than you had forseen, that death may end your training before you could complete it.”
The man smirked.
“If you willingly bow before me, you have to be sure you are ready to become stronger than those who wringle their fingers,and send out a chaotic bolt.
What I am about to teach you, what you will become will not only take more than your physical, but also mental powers Mistal'aerix.”
A quick moment Mistal thought he heard sympathy in the voice of his soon to become master.
“To become one of us, you will have to learn that living in your beloved city of Silvermoon city, will not be tollerated.
Not by those who linger with The Light.
Nor would warlock covens treat you as you are used to.
You may even have to break bonds that were important to you.”
Mistal shook his head.
“I have nothing that is more important to me, than my own power!”
The man nodded.
“Good, then from now on, you are an initiate in our coven.”
A grin appeared on the man's face, revealling sharp teeth as he strechted an arm and fired as what looked like a green beam of energy towards Mistal.
As Mistal saw it coming, the chaotic bolt had already hit him.
And blasted Mistal back through the room, knocking him against the wall...

Darkness... There was only darkness left...





Power doesn't make you more than just a mere servant that has to endure the curse of the Legion, Mistal'aerix.
The powers that will be released by the time you have finished your training will be very hard and dangerous to beare...
The path of Fel magic is corrupting, deadly for some even...
Make sure you will carry through your training...
Be sure to be fully committed to the powers that the Fel has to offer you, or else...

It'll be too late...

Soft... The bed Mistal was placed upon felled soft...
The sheets were covered with silk, and the room around Mistal was slightly lit by one candle.
Mistal tried to get up, but a hand pushed him back onto the soft pillow.
“That was quite the blow, not?” A female voice said.
“Of course this will be done to your, day by day, week by week...”

A soft chuckle filled the room as Mistal closed his eyes and decided it would be better to just listen.
“What have brought you all the way back here, Mistal'aerix? The path you have decided to follow is very dangerous, and one like you should know that by heart...”
“I-.” A finger pushed against Mistal's lips, preventing him to continue.
”Your reasons are not important, just that you are alright.”
Mistal slowly opened his eyes and looked at the woman that was sitting on a chair next to his bed.

Imaera sat next to him, her face wasn't covered by a cowl this time, and her facial traits were revealled by the small candle that was burning on a small table that stood on the otherside of Mistal's bed.
The cracks in her face glowed brightly. It did not look as awful as Mistal thought it would. Her skin was red, and her hair as dark as coil.

Mistal looked at the small candle and smiled.
“This is my final chance to become stronger, to help my allies...” The tone of his voice was soft, polite.
“They have supported me by giving me a chance of working together with people who had similiar goals to mine.”
He watched how the small flmae danced, as if it was very happy to be burning.
“At first everything seemed perfect, no losses, a base... A lot of members.
But then a team of people guided by a Demon hunter infiltrated our base and did some major damage to both the base as our members.
That was the moment I realised that I was not strong enough...”
His voice increased in power.
“That was the moment I realised that my powers was not as good as that of the oppose organization that killed our leader...”
A small flame of rage appeared in Mistal's eyes as he moved his eyes down the candle onto a small vial that laid on the desk.

Mistal smirked. “Fel-blood.” He turned his head the other side and looked at Imaera.
“The true source... The most purest essence of Fel magic. Used by those who made a pact with their demon.”
Mistal raised a brow.
“What was it that you had to offer for your companion?”
Mistal grinned.
“It must have been your beauty...”
Mistal looked straight into her eyes, knowing she would either burst into anger or just ignore the question.
But her reaction wasn't what he had expected.
“There is no importance of telling you, Mistal'aerix...”
She flinged a piece of hair over her shoulder.
“Beauty is only used by those that sell their bodies for money, here there is no such thing...
Here we don't care about vanity... As you have noticed.”
She looked straight back into Mistal's eyes.
Mistal turned his face to the ceilling. “... Of course, you are right... But I was just interested.”
“Ha! Curiosity is a flaw, Mistal'aerix! Becareful with what you ask, here the people aren't very keen of people that love to dig their nose into a matter it doesn't belong to.”
A grinned appeared, revealling her dangerous looking fangs. Mistal shrugged and smirked.
“You are here to make me drink the liquid... To make me drink the Felblood.” He looked back at Imaera.
“Honestly it would be a waste of your time, Imaera... I don't need your help, I can drink it by my own.”
Imaera perked a brow. “Ha, the arrogance... No, Mistal'aerix I am here to check upon your well being... I was ordered to...”
Mistal nodded. “I see, so Ish'tar finally ordered you to do something ‘important'.”
He smirked as he looked back at Imaera.
“You are free to leave my room and report back to him. Tell him that I am awake again.” Mistal waved his hand twards the door. Motioning to leave.
“I will, once you have finished your first task, Mistal'aerix.”
She smirked at Mistal in return.
“And before you bother to ask, you will have to find that out for yourself. I am here to see if everything works out just fine. We can't loose another member who shows some great potential.”
Her expression became more serious.
“So untill then, don't bother me with your cursed tongue, and do as you're pleased.”

Hours passed and Mistal just looked at the ceilling, thinking about all the opportunities, tasks and dangers that lay ahead of him. He knew that the path he had taken wasn't the easiest. He already figured that Ish'tar wanted him to drink the Felblood. And he was fully aware of the side affects. He knew that whatever they had planned for him, was something he needed his powers for... Powers that were brought to him by drinking the Felblood. His powers would increase tremendously, but the effect of stop drinking it, would result in some nasty drawbacks. As tempting as the good effects sound, he also knew that if he starts drinking it, he would eventually become just as Imaera and Ish'tar... Corrupted and even demonic looking.

Mistal smirked as he weighted the good and the bad.
“Interesting...” He said.
“Hmm?” Imaera looked at Mistal with a frown. “Have you thought about your task?”
Mistal chuckled. “I already did...” Mistal slowly sat up straight in bed. He reached for the small vial on the table and looked back at Imaera.
“... Like I already said... I'm ready.”
He pulled the cork out of the vial and brought the vial to his dry lips. He closed his eyes as he poured the liquid into his mouth and swallowed it instandly. Slowly he placed the vial back on the table and looked at Imaera. The veins on his forhead started to become visible. His eyes locked themselves on Imaera and his lips curled up into what looked like an evil-ish smirk.
“Let us begin.”
His voice echoed through the room as he stepped out of bed and walked towards the door.
He stretched his arm towards the door and with a quick gesture the door flew open.
Because of the power that was released upon the door, the candle was blew out and Mistal made his way upstairs.

[ruwendje44]

* Initiation *.

Fel magic is the purest form of Arcane magic.
Using the magic itself may result in self destruction. To understand the true nature of Fel magic,
some use even more powerful tools than magic alone. They use blood, rituals, some even inscribe runes.
It is said that most powerful men and women who practised the arts of Magic, mutated.
A mutation that would set soul and body on fire...

Rushing steps could be heard behind the door, and before Ish'tar was fully turned towards the door, it slammed open.
“I'm ready.” Mistal said. His eyes were glowing brightly and his veins on his forehead looked like they could explode any minute.
His tone was lower than it was before and his stance showed anything but piece.
“Ah, Mistal'aerix, Imaera completed her task and made you drink from the vial.”
His lips curled into a grin as he looked at Mistal. Ish'tar was very pleased with what he saw infront of him.
“Follow me, I have something that would satisfy your thirst.”
Ish'tar turned he walked to another door and opened it.
Behind the door one of the human males nodded at Ish'tar, turned and went and disappeared.
Ish'tar beckoned Mistal to follow. Mistal obeyed and the three men made their way through a long, shadowlike hallway.
Mistal could not resist the urge to observe every little detail.
The torches that drew small lines of light on the ground.
Small spiders that had made their web near the torches. Rats crawling back into small holes in the walls.

As the three made their way through the grim lighted tunnel that lead them around corners and through some other doors.
Mistal felt himself restless. He was filled with anger, rage even.
They stopped infront of a giant solid black doors.
The doors seemed to be made out of Iron, with runes inscribed on them.
Mistal studied the doors and looked at the two other men.
“Where are we?”
He asked under his breathe. Glancing over to the figure that must have been Ish'tar.
“You are about to find out.” Ish'tar said and walked towards the doors and placed his hand on one of them.
Runes started to glow a soft blue as Ish'tar mumbled some words in Eredun.
After a moment the doors moved, making way for the three men.
Ish'tar motioned the two men to move into the large dark looking room.
Ish'tar followed the two men and placed his hands together.
The doors moved back into their previous state.

At first there was only shadow. But as Ish'tar waved with his right arm, torches started to lit.
“Welcome to our training ground.”
Ish'tar smirked as he observed the expression on both their faces.
“As you can see it does not offer much of comfort. Which you won't need anyway.”
The smirk was replaced by a grin as Ish'tar continued.
“I brought the two of you here since it is time to put Mistal'aerix's powers to the test.
Most of the initiated haven't come much further than this room, and hopefully for you, you will.”
Ish'tar's expression became more serious again.
“Both of you have tasted Felblood You feel what it does to your powers as well as your instincts.
It can be said that both of you seem to enjoy the power it grants so far.”
Ish'tar leaned to his right as he looked at the two men.
“But how do you work with it?”
Mistal quickly ganced at the human.
He considered the man, although the man did not take his eyes of Ish'tar.
Mistal turned his attention to Ish'tar again.
“There is no right or wrong... Atleast not here – within this room.
Once you have taken the blood you need to use the advantages it grants you, you need to cope with it.
–But-, It is dangerous... Both of you can kill a none aware opponent in seconds now,
but what happens when your opponent has taking a sip of the blood himself?
What would it mean in battle?”
He glanced over from one to another. “Today we'll see.”
The grin returned and expressed the enjoyment he felt for his tortures way of speaking.
Ish'tar knew what was about to come, and he knew that from it would come a new member.
“But I have to warn each of you...” He continued.
“The fight may not be decided by harm that was done to one another, but also by the way your body reacts to the felblood.
The feeling you have right now, may feel very comfortable, pleasant also, but remember that that will change through the time you have spend in this room...
Each of you may find himself weakened in one way as your fight continues.
Your spells won't have good effects, you faint, maybe even instant death.
Every body reacts different to it and therefore at the end of the fight, I will wait for the ‘winner' and give you a new vial, filled with a bit of felblood to support your recovery.”
As Ish'tar was finally finished with his speech, he spread his two enormous wings and took off.
He flew to the other side of the room, where a large chair stood.
Ish'tar landed next to the chair and waved with his hand.
A black barrier made out of smoke appeared infront of him and the chair as he took his seat.
“You may start whenever you feel like it.”
Ish'tar said as he looked at the men and nodded.

The human took off his cowl and nodded at Mistal.
“It seems we have much incommon, Elf.”
Mistal smirked and lifted his head a bit.
“You may think, human, but I am sure we differ in more ways than you can ever imagine.”
The human smirked and shook his head.
“Do you really think it would b-...”
The man stopped talking as two shadowbolts went straight for him.
He quickly drew a rune and a ward of shadow appeared infront of him.
It absorbed the two shadowbolts.
“Man of surprise I see.” The man grinned as he drew another rune.
Mistal was familiar with the rune and decided to create a Shadow ward as well.
The human cursed and narrowed his eyes. “Darn you!”
His eyes widened as another shadowbolt hit him in the stomache.
In just a second he was blasted back against one of the walls surrounding the battleground.
“Less talking, human... Why do you human always talk wh-...”
For a split second Mistal's vision was clouded. Then a tremendous pain infiltrated his body.
Mistal's body was pushed against the ground, the blow pushed all the oxigen out of his lungs, forcing him to inhale.
As he did his body started to shook. A pain filled his lungs, his torso. It felt as if everything was set on fire.

“Your arrogance makes you weak, Elf.”
The room darkened as Mistal lay on the ground.
“It is a pity you Elves don't realise your own flaws.”
A chuckle gave the words extra strength. Mistal tried to focus but everything around him turned dark.

“To understand your own abilities, you shall have to learn how it feels what your victims feel!”
Mistal looked up at a man whoms voice and figure were fimiliar to him.

Mendarian, a man who taught the dark arts with passion.
Long black hair fell onto his shoulder, a blue with black robe fell down onto the ground revealling just a little of his figure.
The thick fingers that weren't covered were stretched. His eyes as Green as that of Mistal looked at the small boy.

“Mistal'aerix, you have come a far way since you have joined our academy... But you still lack the most neccesary skill.”
The man raised his brows as he considered Mistal'aerix.
“Well?” Mandarian crossed his arms and stared at Mistal'aerix.
“You are right... Sir. But it is only due to-...” The back of Mandarian's hand found Mistal's cheeck. Mistal gasped and slowly brought his hand to his left cheeck.
Tears started to well up in his eyes as he felt his cheeck becoming warmer.
“There are no excuses, Mistal...” Mandarian shrugged. “Again.” With an arrogant glance Mandarian looked at the target that Mistal was aiming for.

A shock went through mistal's body.
“Mistal'aerix, it seems that you have nothing more than big talks and no powers!
Ha. Who would have thought that one who showed so much potential would be killed this quickly?!”
Mistal's eyes opened, without a word or even passing a glance at the human, Mistal got back to his feet.
When he stood straight again he slowly lifted his head until his eyes met that of the human.
“I would not be so certain, human.” The words were given strength by the hatred that lay beyond them.
“I never said we were finished...”
Mistal lifted his hand and stretched it towards the human.
“Agony!” A bright green ring filled with smoke appeared infront of Mistal's stretched hand.
The human gasped as the curse hit him. He fell to his knees as his body shook. His eyes rolling back and forth, showing of sclera.
Mistal took a step into his direction and folded his hand -adding more power to his curse.
“You are not the first, nor the second who squarled around like this before my feet.”
He grinned as he stood before the man. “And neither will you be the last.”
Mistal lifted his free hand up and three small flames started to dance on his fingertips.
“Immolate.” The three small flames enlarged but remained on his fingertips.
He looked at them for a moment before he lowered his hand and aimed for the man.
“Burn filth!”

The three flames quickly merged together and went for the squarling man.
The moment the flames got in touch with the robes the human was wearing they quickly started to devour every inch of the body.

The man rolled over and screamed as the flames started to eat from his flesh. Mistal could only stand and watch the scene.
How the man got devoured by his final attack.
Mistal glanced over his shoulder at Ish'tar.
Ish'tar looked back at Mistal with nothing more than a blank expression. Not giving any opportunity to Mistal to read his thoughts.
Mistal looked back at the man that went silent and had called him by his name. Mistal would never allow a mere human to call him by his full name... Never!

“ You have done well, Mistal'aerix.” Mistal looked to his right and Ish'tar stood beside him.
“I will have one of my people to clean this men.”
He smirked as he slowly turned his face towards Mistal. “It seems you know how to work with this... This Felblood.”
“Don't underestimate my knowledge, Ish'tar.”
Mistal's voice got some strength as he continued.
“I have done my research in the past, and I know what this blood will bring to one like me.” Mistal took a moment to let his words echo through the small room.

Sharp teeth showed as Ish'tar grinned.
“Now go and see Imaera... You have completed your initiation and are now a full member of our coven. Do mind... That your trial has just begun.”
Ish'tar's eyes stared straight into those of Mistal.
Mistal nodded in return and slowly made his way back through the tunnels.

Mistal got back in the small room where he was first welcomed by Imaera, Ish'tar and two humans. He looked down at his attire.
“You have to change those... If you want to be taken more serious, Mistal'aerix.”
Mistal looked up and without showing any sign of curiosity or shock he looked at Imaera.
“Did you enjoy your little Initiation party? Or did you had to give everything you have?” Imaera asked with a high pitched voice filled with sarcasm.
“You know that if you had to give all, you will not make it... And you'd better give up before it is too late.”
Mistal grinned as he placed a hand against the wall to his right and leaned against it.
“The lack of vanity still doesn't suite you, Imaera... You were such a lovely woman, but look at you know.” Mistal shook his head.
“If only your-...” Mistal got pletched against the wall, Imaera's hand clenched around his neck.
“Never, speak about them... Ever...” She hissed as she kept her fingers around his throat. “...Or you'll be sorry.” She let go of his neck.
Mistal took a deep breathe as he leaned over and tried to get his vision steady again.

“The two of you seem to get along just fine, I see.”
Ish'tar stepped into the room and held a soulshard in his hand.
Mistal took a glance at it.
“Yes this is actually yours, Mistal'aerix. Pity you had no idea that you were allowed to take what you owned.” Mistal shrugged. “I will next time.”
Ish'tar nodded.
“And that, Mistal'aerix, might be soon. I have a task for you.”
Ish'tar took a step closer to Mistal,laying his claw like hand upon his shoulder.
“You will have to departure and go to Desolace. There you will find a group of Satyr, just show them this little souvenir and tell them it is their student.
Once that is done, you may get the opportunity to study with them, since they know some things about the fel and nether better than we do.”
Ish'tar grinned lifting his lips revealling his fangs.
Mistal nodded. “I understand.”
“Good. Now if they ask you how he'd died, tell them about your initiation.
They will understand the matter and will with most luck invite you to one of their rituals which will be held in three weeks. So make haste.”
Ish'tar pushed the soulshard in Mistal's hand.
“Behind you there is another vial filled for you with felblood. As promised it is yours.”
Ish'tar turned to the door on his heels. “Imaera, follow me.”
The two went back through the door Mistal and Ish'tar came from. Imaera gave Mistal one last mockery glance before she closed the door behind her.

Mistal slowly made his way back through the tunnels that would bring him back to the surface.
As he finally reached the final door he opened the small wooden door.
“Fresh air...” He took a deep breathe. “Yes...”
He closed his eyes and smirked as a soft breeze went through his hair. Making his hair dance on his shoulders.
He slowly opened his eyes again and looked down at his attire.
“The woman is right, I should change before making my departure.”
His hand slowly lowered towards his pouch and pulled the small vial filled with green liquid out of it.
He lifted his hand and looked at it as the smirk became a grin, revealling his teeth.
“True power comes with great responsibility.” He said as he lowered the vial again and placed it back in his pouch.

“Kiniha.” The name of Mistal's hakwstrider. Mistal decided to travel by Hawkstrider.
His Dreadsteed would give away much more than he was planning for.
Slowly a Hawkstrider walked over to Mistal. Her dark feathers danced because of the soft breezes that brushed themselves against them.
Mistal looked at the Hawkstrider with a non-expressing glance. He took the reigns in his hands and pulled himself up on the back of the Strider.
He did not much care how exhausted the animal would be once he would set off to Desolace. It did not matter if the weather was waiting to be released upon him and his Hawkstrider.
As long as he would make it to Desolace with not much of delay he would be glad.
It was already a pain that Ish'tar made him travel all the way to Desolace without sharing such information earlier.
“Ha!” Mistal tucked his legs into the Strider's stomache. The hawkstrider screeched and started to make a run for it.
Mistal looked back over his shoulder.

Thank you, Ish'tar. I won't fail my training.

Mistal's heart pounded with excitement as his Hawkstrider raced through the forest, forced by Mistal's excitement to be as fast as possible in the Desolace.

[ruwendje44]

* The first encounter *

Reach for the unpleasant if you want to succeed. But be aware, if you don't know where the limit it, you'll be succumbed by your own flaws.
Monstrous creature, nightmares, even pain will follow you wherever you go, and once you've started there is no turning back.
Try to avoid –that- what might change your mind… This should be taken serious. Or you will lose yourself and your hard worked goals.

Travelling by Hawkstrider. It was not what Mistal preferred.
He looked at his Hawkstrider with awe.
How pathetic… This is not what I prefer… Not at all. If –He- would find out about this, he would laugh and mock me for this…
Mistal shook his head and waved with his right hand. Keeping his left hand firmly on the reins.
The vial he had won, through his little initiation battle, jumped out of the pouch and right into Mistal's outstretched hand.
He looked at it with an expression revealing lust.
The Hawkstrider kept running on full speed. Leaving nothing but dust in his wake.
Mistal uncorked the vial and let the warm, filthy liquid pour into his mouth, to his gullet.
He coughed after his last drink. His body temperature raised. The veins on his forehead began to set.
Mistal took a deep breath and tucked his legs deeper into the Hawks' stomach.

Days passed and as Mistal travelled on his saddle on the back of his Strider, he carelessly pushed his animal to its limit.
He wanted to arrive at the Desolace as soon as possible. Even if that meant the death of this disgusting mount.

Mistal finally reached the port known as Booty Bay.
He stabled his Hawkstrider and gave the Goblin stable master enough money to make sure he would take care of the animal, while he would take a little break here in this economic driven town.
As soon as he pushed the doors open to the very populated Tavern his face took on a more serious look.
He did not need anyone, who would put his or her nose into his business. Especially since his business wasn't tolerated by the large majority of Azeroth.

He looked at some pirates which were sitting on a table near the entrance.
Some of them glanced back at the warlock that just stepped into the tavern.
Mistal caught their glance and looked straight back at them. All of them returned their attention back to their table.
Mistal smirked and continued towards the counter.
He lay ten pieces of silver on it and nodded at the Goblin. “I would like two glasses of water and one glass of White Dalaran… Oh and I want to rent a room for tonight.”
The Goblin looked up at Mistal and nodded in return.
He grabbed two small glasses and turned on his heels towards a giant barrel. He poured the two glasses with what looked like water.
Again turned and placed them on the counter. He then bended over and grabbed a large bottle and another glass from behind the counter. He poured the liquid into the glass and nodded.
“That'll be fifteen silver and fifty-five copper, Elf.” The goblin stared straight into Mistal's eyes and smirked. “Nothin' ain't fo' free, eh!” He said.
Mistal swallowed the first words that came to his mind and instead gave the goblin a polite smile. “My mistake, goblin.”
He placed his hand in his robe and pulled a sack out of his pouch filled with coins.
The sound that was accompanying the sack made the goblin look up at the Elf again.
“Did some business, eh?” The goblin grinned as he looked from the sack, back to Mistal as he handed him the key to his room.
Mistal gave a nod. “Indeed.”
He placed the remaining coins on the counter and flipped his hand. The three glasses lifted themselves in the air and hovered closer towards Mistal.
The goblin looked how Mistal placed the money sack back in his pocket.
Mistal gave the goblin one final glance and turned, walked over to the stairs and continued to the first floor. Small crowded tables filled the floor.
A table was filled with a small group of Kal'dorei.
They gave Mistal a quick glance before they returned to their conversation.
On another small table a group of Humans, Dwarves and Gnomes were as it seemed to Mistal, arguing about a small parchment that laid in front of them.

Mistal could not bother to stick his nose into their conversations or thoughts and so he looked over the first floor. His eyes paused on a table at the end of the corridor.
He slightly nodded and made his way to the table.

Mistal had taken his seat and had placed a book –inscribed with green runes on the cover- in front of him.
He sighed and opened the book. Revealing nothing but a blank page.
Mistal just looked at the page and smirked. “Secrets… Only secrets…”
Mistal closed his eyes and silently repeated an Eredun phrase.
Slowly letters started to burn themselves in the page. He continued his silent chant and the smell of burning paper started to fill his nostrils.

Once Mistal was done he looked down on the book. His head ached as if his head was recovering from a good blow. His eyes felt heavy, but Mistal resisted the signs.
He narrowed his eyes and focused them upon the page. Slowly he started to read the first two lines of the text.

Today we were taught a good load of history. I never was really keen of History.
But today has changed my ignorant way of believing!
Today we got to learn some things about the wars that had raged over Azeroth so many times.

Mistal looked up and made sure to check if no one was standing near him.
No. The people on the other table table were still working on their valuable argument, raising voices in the heat of it.
Mistal narrowed his eyes again and read the text.

Spoiler:

Today we were taught a good load of history . I never was really keen of History.
But today has changed my ignorant way of believing! Today we got to learn some things about the Wars that had raged over Azeroth so many times. Well… Not really raged over Azeroth but was due to some demonic influences from a group of demons and corrupted races. They serve a banner that is known as foul in our community. Although everyone knows that we still have people among our kin whom have been very close to these corrupted people.

Kael'thas our previous leader who had brought so many good things to our people. Although most of our addiction we have to bare today, was brought to us, was due Kael'thas. My respect for him has increased. No… It has been triggered… yes.
I know that it will bring some great opportunities to our people… Or at least to those whom follow the path of Fel and corruption.

Kael'thas may have brought us an addiction. A misfortune maybe. But I see some great potential by the things Kael'thas has brought to our people.
Therefore… One day I will make my way to Outland… And find the group that stayed behind… A group with more experience than any other person here in Azeroth.
Another vow has to be made!

By the burning desire to become powerful, I vow upon my own power that one day I will find the ones left behind by our people. Those also known as the ‘Felblood Elves.'

Mistal raised his head from the page and rubbed his eyes. The headache seemed to have been increasing while he was reading.
He lifted his hand up and made it move above one of the small glasses filled with water.
A small wisp of shadow escaped the palm of his hand and lowered itself in the glass.
Mistal looked at the liquid as he lowered his hand on the table again.

At first nothing happened. Then slowly the water started to become darker, absorbing the shadow that lay upon the motionless water.
Small dark flames started to dance upon the water as it continued to become darker.
Mistal's eyes were focused on the glass. His face free of emotions or an expression.
The water started to whirl in the small glass, little droplets jumping out of the glass onto the table.
Mistal's vision started to become blurry, as he kept his gaze focused on the whirling water. And slowly his vision was as black as the liquid in his glass.

Flames… Green flames…

Blazing flames was everything Mistal could see as his mind's eye got some of its vision back.
Mistal's headache had disappeared and nothing besides flames was what Mistal could see.
“Initiate!” A voice echoed through the endless tunnel filled with blazing flames. “You've come a far way so far!”
Mistal tried to see who was talking to him, but no success.
“True powers comes forth to those worthy of it! And you… You seem to have the potential, Mistal'aerix.”
A chuckle filled the dark space and echoed inside Mistal's stomach.
“But is it enough?!” It felt as if someone had fired a shadowbolt at Mistal. He couldn't move but the pain was anything but pleasant.
“Now you won't have the pleasure to meet me… Yet.” The voice lowered in tone. “But you will.”
The silence made it harder for Mistal to resist the urge to snap back to the here and now.
But something intrigued him to stay focused and listen to whatever this -thing- had to say.

“Now that we have connected, it will be very hard to turn your back on the people who took their time and energy to train you.
We have been waiting for someone with equal goals as to ours… and little have passed the tasks that you have so far, Mistal'aerix.
Tell me… Do you enjoy the powers the felblood offers to you?”
The flames that blazed started to become smaller.
“Yes I have.” Mistal replied in his head. His headache seemed to reduce.
“Good…” A small vial started to appear in front of Mistal's mind eye.
“This little vial holds a lot of power… Initiate. And as you have experienced as of late, there are some side effects.”
Another chuckled intensified the air in the tunnel, enhancing the headache to a whole new pain level.
“One of the side effects are the headaches, burning skin… maybe even stabbing pains on your back or on your forehead.
Do not worry, initiate… These pains shall lessen in time, creating better advantages for you…
But you shall have to continue through your training as well as to continue drinking of the felblood!”
Mistal started to realize that his body was shaking, not because of the tension… but because of something else.
Something outside this blocked cage of flames and invisible voices. It was because someone was touching his body.
“Initiate, we shall meet again… sooner than you shall realize.” The connection was broken and Mistal slowly regained his own self.
His eyes weren't set to open yet, but his body shook heavily as someone pulled on his robes.
A voice… Female… It looked like someone was yelling his name… But it seemed so far away.
Mistal's eyes opened, his vision was blurry and he could not get a good hold of his surroundings or the female who was shaking him.
Mistal's body stopped shocking, and with a blow, his head was bumped back to the ground again.
Slowly he tried to get himself up.
His vision started to get a better grip on the world around him. Mistal decided to relax his muscles and regain his vision first.

Seconds passed, maybe even minutes, but finally Mistal had regained his vision.
He looked up at the woman that had been almost shaking him out of his attire.
Her eyes were wide open, staring right into his… and her expression showed only awe.
Mistal shook his head slowly and grabbed the edge of the table. Making it support him as he pulled himself up, back onto his feet.
The woman took a step back but kept her eyes locked onto Mistal.
He did not get it why she was so stressed and decided to look around the first floor.
The tables which were crowded earlier were deserted now.
No one but the female and himself were on the first floor.
Mistal gazed back onto his table and looked at the book that was still laying open. He waved his hand and the cover smacked itself shut upon the stack of pages.
“Y-you… Must leave.” Mistal gazed back at the woman.
Her awed expression had made way for anger… fear even. “I want you to be gone!”
Mistal perked an eyebrow and smirked.
“Is that so?”
Mistal looked at her and drew a sigil in the air. “Curse of Agony.”
The woman fell onto her knees and grabbed her head.
Her body started to shook because of the heavy pain shocks that went through her body. Mistal's considered the woman.
Then he knelt beside her and placed a finger against her forehead.
“It would be wise to stay silent.”
He grabbed the woman around her waist and took her to his rented room.

Once inside the room he threw the woman onto the bed. He then continued towards a small corner and placed his pouch on the ground.
He made his way back towards the woman but as he passed a broken mirror his attention got caught by his reflection.
Mistal fully turned towards the Mirror, giving himself a better look.
His cheeks were covered by what looked like bruises. Thick red stripes marked his face. Just above his eyebrow two small thickenings could be seen.
The two bags under his eyes were dark and a vein on his forehead thickened as well.
He let his finger move over his face. Frankly the thickenings didn't hurt. But they did chance his appearance a bit.
Mistal decided that it would be better to put the cowl back over his head and interrogate the woman.
Whatever she had seen or have heard was crucial to his well-being.

He turned on his heels and walked over to the bed. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and considered the woman before he waved his hand.
The woman gasped and swung herself over the side of the bed to vomit. Mistal looked at the woman and smirked.
“The worst is about to come, Milady.”

[ruwendje44]

Taking It Abroad

Her legs were hidden under the blanket that covered the bed. Her head was lowered in between her legs, clamping her hands on both edges of the bed. The air was filled with little sounds… Sounds created by sobs. Tears ran down her cheeks onto her shaven legs.
Shivers ran down her spine as she imagined what could happen to her. She knew that this man was not playing games. In fact she knew that this man meant trouble.
She tried to relax her muscles. Make herself stop sobbing.
As long as the man just asked her questions and she'd answered them right, there would be no use for tears nor the fear that was keeping her in its grip.

“Now I will ask this one more time. What did you hear?” Mistal stared at the woman.
He knew that it would not take much more than a little use of magic to make this woman speak.
He breathed heavily, his head ached and on top of that he had to deal with something he had never really had any problems with. Innocent people…

“I heard you screaming… Sir. I was on my way to my room and saw you sitting at the small table. Your body was shaking and I thought you needed some help.”
Her breathing hastened. She made an attempt to look back at Mistal, but no success.
The way he looked, the veins on his forehead, the large lines through his face… No it was not what her eyes could bear.

“Aha…” Mistal rubbed his chin as he started to pace through the room.
“So I was screaming… Did you hear anything else besides the yelling? Did you take a glance in my book?” Mistal turned to face the woman again.
His lips curled into a smirk as he observed her. He enjoyed watching people being tortured by their own fears and dreadful thoughts.
“I must admit that no one else has ever told me to leave… Just because I was screaming.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Especially since that would mean that people would come to help me. Try to get my attention and bring me to a room afterwards… But instead you told me to leave the tavern, with a glance as cold as ice.”
His smirk spread and revealed his white teeth.
The woman could not help it to stare at the teeth and lifted the blanket up, covering the half of her face.
“Well?” Mistal's smirk disappeared again and made way for something more serious.
His eyes shot a cold glance at the woman.
“Not answering is not an option for you, human!”
He stretched his arm and aimed it at her. The woman tried to crawl under the blanket that was draped upon the bed.
“Fine…”
A sigil appeared in the air. And the woman recognized the sigil from before.
“No stop!” She shouted. Mistal raised his eyebrows in a fake motion of surprise. “Ah so now you want to talk?”
“Yes… Just don't put any more spells on me.” The woman said, while she whiped some tears off her cheeks.
[color=#800000] “You are in no position to ask for any favors.” Mistal stepped closer to the bed and took a seat on the end of it.
“Now please explain to me why I should have left this dock… And be as concrete as you can be.”

It took the woman a while to tell Mistal what she had seen.
She seemed to enjoy telling it since she crept out of her shell and told the story with what looked like a smile.
Maybe she hoped that it would help to keep Mistal on a distance, but she should have known better.
This man was not the regular man you would meet here in Booty bay. Neither did he care much about her well being. No he cared for what he thought was most important.
Getting rid of people who stick their noses in his business.

“I see…”
Mistal raised himself back to his feet and started to pace again.
“I am not sure what to do with someone like you.”
The woman looked up at Mistal.
“You could at least let me go… I need some sleep too, you know.”
Her attitude had changed significantly since she had told her story. And to Mistal it seemed she thought she could just leave without even getting a warning or something of the like.
It pleased him to see such hope in such a hopeless scenario.

Time to strike, Mistal'aerix.
Mistal's attention got caught by a familiar voice. He looked around the room to see if there were any green flames, or eyes or whatever he could find to see where the voice came from. No use. There was nothing more than just himself and the woman on the bed.
“I must admit, that you do deserve a little favor… Not?”
Mistal placed his two hands together and looked at the woman with a sincere expression.
The woman nodded at Mistal in a very enthusiastic manner.
“Yes.”
Mistal smirked and lowered his hands again. Taking a good look at the woman.
“For a favor to grant I will need your name.” His insides started to boil from excitement.
“Marie Aledodger, sir.” She looked up at Mistal and took a bow.
“Now may I have yours, sir? It would be neat to introduce yourself as well.”
She kept her gaze focused on Mistal as he started to pace through the room.
“Oh dear Marie… How rude of me… But I must admit that I cannot trust you with my identity.”
He turned to look at Marie for a few seconds and continued his pace.
“But I could give you in return of a favor, this room.” He stopped and looked at her. Her eyebrows raised and a smile spread on her face.
“Would you honestly do that…? I mean… I would really like that, Sir.” Her eyes beamed and Mistal nodded. “Good… Well I will have to make departure now.” Mistal walked over to the corner where he left his pouch and made his way towards the door.
“Wait.” Mistal turned to eye Marie. “Yes?”
“Won't this be some sort of trick? I mean… you haven't sent for any assassins or something, right?” Mistal waved a dismissive hand.
“Dear Marie, I would never do such a thing. I am a man of my word. And I promised you this room for the night, now I have to go, since I will be having a long ride up ahead.
But please enjoy your evening, and don't forget to return the key tomorrow.Farewell.”
Mistal grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. As soon as he stepped onto the corridor he smirked and turned to face the door he just closed.
He placed his cheek against the door and closed his eyes.
“Your body shall be devoured by the flames caused by Immolate, dear Marie, and your head shall spin, ache.”
He whispered. He opened his eyes again and took a small step back and drew a sigil on the door.
“Corruption and Immolate shall be placed upon Marie Aledodger.” The sigil colored dark red as Mistal finished his curse. He turned and smirked as a awful scream filled the corridor.
Mistal glanced back over his shoulder at the door and grinned.
“Never put faith in one who practices the art of Fel magic, dear Marie.” He continued his pace downstairs.

Once Mistal reached the dock he went to the dock master and asked if there was any room on the boat that would cross the Giant blue over to Kalimdor.
The Dock master told Mistal there were free rooms left, but he would have had to pay double the amount of money due to the late announcement.
Mistal agreed and made a deal with the Dock master.
Five hours later he went on board of the enormous ship that sailed off to Kalimdor.



It was already late when the boat finally arrived in Kalimdor. The dock of Rachet was quite populated.
Mistal inhaled deeply before he nodded at the dock master and made his way over the small Tavern.

Mistal ordered a glass of water and a piece of bread. The waiter brought him the food and drink and went to his other customers.
Mistal took his time to observe the people around the Tavern and smiled as he did so.
There were a few humans, whom didn't give much away about either their profession or abilities.
They were having a laugh and didn't seem to bother with the people around them.

On another small table sat a young Sin'dorei woman dressed in a leather vest, covered with feathers.
Her right arm was hanging besides her chair and her eyes were focused on a dish filled with what looked like soup.

Mistal quickly drank his drink and finished his piece of bread. He walked over to the Goblin and nodded when it was his turn to pay the dinner.

“I would like to rent a room for tonight.”
Mistal said as he focused his eyes on the Goblin.
“Too bad we don't have any rooms, eh?” The Goblin replied with a grin on his face, revealing his sharp teeth.
“But we do have beds which you could use, Elf.”
The Goblin's lips thinned as the grin broadened.
“Very well, I would like to have a bed for the night, how much does it cost?”
Mistal made his hand move to his robe and grabbed a sack filled with coins.
The ears of the Goblin twitched in curiosity as he looked at the sack.
“Five silvers for the dinner and a bed for tonight. Six, if you wish to have a dish waiting for ya tomorrow morning”
Mistal smirked and nodded. “Here is your five silver, Goblin.”
Mistal turned after he gave the money to the goblin and walked between the tables,
turned around a corner where he took the time to observe the part where the beds were laid down.
He shook his head and walked over to one of the small bed that laid in a corner.

After Mistal finally made himself comfortable between the sheets. He drew a sigil on the ground and a black ward whirled and covered his bed. Mistal closed his eyes and let his mind fall deeper into the unknown but comfortable dream world…

[ruwendje44]

Rehab

Mistal woke up by the sound of footsteps.
He looked up from his bed and saw two humans walking over to separate beds and made themselves comfortable between the sheets.
Mistal turned between the sheets and reached for his pouch. He pulled the pouch under the sheets and opened it.
As Mistal started to realize that what he was looking for wasn't in the pouch he pushed the sheets from his bed, grabbed his pouch and rushed out of the Tavern.

Miles from Ratchet, Mistal wandered through the savanna like landscape of the Barrens.
Small streams of sweat started to run down Mistal's face. On his way he undid himself of his Cowl.

Mistal knew better than to think that it was only the heat that made him feel like this. No… It was also because he did not have any more Felblood.
The addiction had already started since he drank his vial back in Booty Bay. And now his body started to react to the shortcoming of the liquid.

Hours passed, but to Mistal it felt as if it were days. His eyes felt heavy, his breathing got slower with the hours.
And slowly he started to lose his orientation. The world started to whirl around him and he lowered to his knees.
When he fell on his knees his head started to throb. He reached with his hands to his head, but lost his balance and his face smacked onto the dried ground.
And seconds later Mistal closed his eyes and everything became black…

“Once, you had decided to become one of us, you may have forgotten what it would take… Mistal'aerix.”
The voice made Mistal open his eyes. Green flames danced in front of his mind's eye.
“Seeing you fail these tasks… Is nothing more than a confirmation to the Burning Legion as well to me! We don't accept failures within our ranks, Elf!”

Silence…

Why haven't you showed yourself… Demon? The sentence filled the room filled with green flames.
Slowly, echoing against the walls of the room a chuckle started to increase in power.

“That, Mistal'aerix, is a interesting question.” The flames reduced in size again and the echoing of the chuckle disappeared.
Again silence filled the room for a few seconds before the sound of someone inhaling oxygen into his lungs reached Mistal's ears.

“You must earn the honor to meet me, Elf. First you will have to finish your journey towards the coven found in Desolace.
And you will have to work with them, train with them and continue to drink the Felblood.”

Mistal shook his head as he slowly observed the room with narrowed eyes.
I have no more energy… My body won't be able to continue this way.
Again a chuckle filled the room only this time a searing pain rushed through Mistal's body.
Ugh… Mistal lowered to his knees.
“Pathetic Sin'Dorei, you've been warned.”
Another pulse of pain rushed through Mistal's bones, limbs anywhere possible.
“Those who have been drinking Felblood for over a week will become vulnerable if there is no blood near them for more than a few hours.”
The pain reduced, but Mistal couldn't get back to his feet. His body ignored his commands.
“As long as I'm not finished speaking…” A cough.
“You are not allowed to lose focus, Elf.” Another cough. This time a chill ran over Mistal's back.
“Now… As I mentioned before… The lack of Felblood as made you weak. Therefore you feel like dying. You haven't reached your destination. Pity…”
Silence.
Mistal couldn't take this anymore. This demon or whatever it was, was playing with his mind and Mistal knew it.

“H-he-…” Was everything Mistal could say before another pulse of pain went through his body.
“You took a vow! A vow of becoming stronger and more powerful than your superiors today are. Then where is that power Mistal'aerix?”

Work with me… Body work…

“It is of no use, Elf. You have failed your task.”
No I have not, no!
“Ha, I find it ironic to see you squirrel and be pained… Especially since you were so confident about yourself.
Confidence that was misplaced by just a mere person, trying to take everything he could on his shoulders and forget about the bumps in the road he travelled.”

One of the green flames started to blaze brighter than the others.
The flame started to dance before Mistals mind eye. As Mistal focused his glance on the flame, a vial appeared.
“Something you should consider in the future would be your weaknesses. I have already told you that we don't accept failures in our midst, Mistal'aerix.
Once you have reached the coven in Desolace you will be put to your limits and even further.”

Time never went by as slow as this moment. Mistal started to realize that the voice was right and that this was the last chance he was given by this Demon.
He could not afford another misstep.

The vial uncorked by and the liquid started to flow towards Mistal.
“Remember my words, Elf, and consider them well.”
The liquid poured itself through Mistal's opened mouth. The filthy taste and burning feeling that it brought to Mistal's gullet made Mistal's eyes dilate.
The darkroom started to fade and the last thing Mistal heard before his eyes open was a chuckle.

Mistal got to his knees and smirked. The effect of the liquid had given him the ability to wake up again and continue his path.
He slowly got to his feet and drew a sigil in the air. A purple pentagram appeared infront of him. He stretched out both arms and closed his eyes as he started to mumble a demonic chant.
Slowly the ground underneath the pentagram started to open and the sound of a stallion erupted from the gap in the earth.
Not much longer a Dreadsteed jumped out of the Pentagram.
Mistal opened his eyes as he said the last words and the gap closed again, leaving a small mark of black ash on the place where the penetagram was.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked over to his Dreadsteed and tickled the lower jaw of the creature.
“We have no more time to waste, I want you to take me to the Desolace as quick and swiftly as you can!”
The Dreadsteed whinnied as Mistal grabbed the reigns and jumped on the beast's back.
“Now!” Mistal tucked his feet into the beast's belly and the Dreadsteed made a run for it.


Hours later...


The grassy landscape made way for a somewhat more darker land.
The sound of warfare a few miles to the east predicted the battle of the Alliance and the Horde. Mistal smirked as he looked towards the eastside of the Desolace.

The horde and Alliance shall fall one day. When that day comes it will be everyone for itself.

The Dreadsteed ran further into the devastated land. The landscape revealed the scars of war and the solitary that was caused because of it.
The only living things Mistal saw were Basilisks, eagles and enormous Kodos even some skeletons.
As the Dreadsteed continued his way towards the coven.
Mistal's eyes narrowed as a tedious pain rushed through his jaw. He closed his eyes and inhaled, hoping to reduce the pain. Instead another pang of pain.
Mistal moved one hand to his jaw and rubbed it. Nothing extraordinary.
When Mistal lowered his hand again he swallowed a load of saliva. Frankly it tasted like blood.
He pulled the reigns to make the Dreadsteed slow his pace and moved his hand up to his jaw again. A little stream of blood ran down Mistal's lip.
He opened his mouth and touched his teeth. And there it was.
His incisors were bleeding. Another pang of pain.
Mistal closed his eyes and tucked the Dreadsteed in the belly again. Making the Dreadsteed continue on full speed.

Mistal closed in onto the Coven and so he decided to take one more quick pause before he would continue his training.
As he jumped off the back of the Dreadteed he placed himself on a sandbank. He closed his eyes and started to Meditate.
Making his muscles and thoughts relax for a moment. He inhaled, exhaled and focused his energy.
It only took a few minutes for Mistal to meditate. He opened his eyes again and his body felt good, albeit that his skin was itching.
He took another attempt to feel his incisors. He reached for his left incisor and felt it.
By now the teeth had grown quite a lot and as he rubbed his finger against it he realized that the teeth didn't fit in his mouth anymore.
He sighed and stood up, walked over to the Dreadsteed and jumped on his back.

It seems the Felblood is mutating my body already…

He tucked his feet against the belly of the creature. As usual the animal knew what to do with the sign and took off towards the ruins which doomed up in the distance…

[ruwendje44]

Sargeron

Today the ruins are named after the Lord of the Burning legion, Sargeras.
This once village owned by the Kal'dorei is now home to the Hate fury Satyr. There have been rumors that these creatures hold some magical artifacts. But if that is true… Nobody knows.
Luckily for some of the people, they get the chance to train among these Fel-addicts and find out if these rumors are true. But still none of the men and women who have visited this place had ever spilled a word about the rumors and so it would remain a mystery.

The flow of Fel energy that lingered around Desolace felt good to those addicted to it. The grey sky, the sound of heavy footsteps from passing Kodos were the things that marked Desolace.

Mistal inhaled and breathed out as he stood right next to his Dreadsteed and looked at the Ruins in front of him. He drew a sigil in the air and a ward of black smoke whirled around his body. He patted the Dreadsteed on his neck and said some words in Demonic. With one last whinny, the Dreadsteed released itself from the plane and disappeared into the Nether where it belonged.

Mistal pulled the cowl back over his head and continued into the Ruins. He looked to his left and saw a giant Runestone. He looked back at the small buildings in front of him and a shadow to his left caught his attention. A Satyr with purple fur looked down on Mistal with a wary glance.



“Who is he, that has entered our sacred grounds?” The Satyr said in Demonic.
“The name is Mistal'aerix. I have come from the coven led by Ish'tar.”
The Satyr considered Mistal before he gave a small nod and mumbled a few words. Mistal couldn't understand what the Satyr said, but it did not matter. He had entered the Coven's ground. And from here it would get more trouble-some. But still he had made his first contact and that was good.



“Ish'tar, ah… How has he been?” The Satyr asked as he rubbed his chin.
“He has been doing a great job since he has trained among your people, Satyr.” Mistal replied.
“Good… What is the reason for he who have entered our sacred grounds?”
Mistal considered his answer and took a deep breath before he answered.
He lowered his head as he answered. “I have come here to continue my training.”

The ground under Mistal's feet started to tremble as a black circle appeared. Mistal smirked and jumped back.

“Would he have been a second too late and he would have been injured.” The Satyr said as he snapped his finger. The black whole disappeared again.

“I have something I need to show to the leader of your coven.” Mistal said as he grabbed his pouch. He searched for the small Soul shard and pulled it out of his pouch. He held it up so the Satyr could look at it.
“A Soul shard... Why would you show me this?” The Satyr said as he took a step into Mistal's direction.
“It is the soul shard of one of your initiates.” Mistal said as he looked up at the Satyr.
The Satyr motioned with his finger and the Soul shard hovered out of Mistal's hand into mid-air. He made the Soul shard hang in between himself and Mistal as he observed the shard.
“Jeoffrey the Human…” The Satyr said as a small pink beam whirled around the shard. Mistal looked at the beam with caution. “Yes.” He said as he kept his eyes focused on the shard.

The Satyr looked up at Mistal again and nodded. “You, undo yourself from the cowl.”
Mistal looked at the Satyr in disbelieve. He considered the Satyr and then gave the man a quick nod. “Of course.” He said as the lowered the cowl and lifted his face so the Satyr could have a better look at his face.
“He has been drinking a very valuable liquid, ah yes he has…” The Satyr said as he covered the remaining space between the two man and grabbed Mistal's face.
“He has been mutating… Good…” He released Mistal's face out of his firm grip and smirked.
“Follow me.” He turned around and started to walk towards one bigger building in the middle of all the small ones. With his tail he motioned Mistal to follow, and Mistal obeyed.

As the two man paced through the ruins towards the building, Mistal noticed they weren't the only one. Other Satyr had come out of their houses to see what was going on in their coven. Not only were there Satyr, but some Humans, Forsaken and a few Blood Elves as well. They were all dressed in Grey robes, some of them were wearing black masks around their head and other were too mutated to wear anything else then their casual clothing. Mistal observed the men and women around them and looked back to the Satyr that was leading him towards the building. They were almost there and the crowd started to surround them. The Satyr had stationed himself in front the entrance of the building and looked at the Surrounding crowd before he laid his eyes back on Mistal again.

“Today, we have a guest in our midst. What his purpose is for joining our coven shall be cleared through the conversation, I and the other elders shall have with this man.
You all shall treat this mean with respect as long as he is in our midst, and you shall not ask the man any question until the council and I have decided whether he stays or not.
Now get back to your daily orders and training.”

As soon as the Satyr was finished speaking the crowd scattered again and got back to their daily businesses. The Satyr nodded at Mistal as he continued his pace into the building. Mistal followed the Satyr into the building and was surprised by what he saw. One demon and four Satyr were sitting in a half circle. The first looked up, followed by the second, the third and fourth, but the Demon who should have been the last to look up did not and kept his eyes on a scroll that laid in front of him. The Satyr that just walked into the building placed himself next to the first sitting Satyr and looked up at Mistal. He motioned with his hand towards a cushion that was located in the middle of the half circle.

Mistal walked over to the cushion when suddenly his name was said by someone from the circle.
“You finally arrived, Mistal'aerix.”
Mistal looked up at the corner where the voice came from and looked at the Demon. Whom slowly raised his head to look Mistal straight in the eyes.
The Demon had green eyes and horns on his forehead. His pale grey skin and thin lips brought chills to anyone's spine, as well as Mistal's.
Mistal looked at the Demon with a considerate gaze, but decided not to reply to what the demon said and took his seat on the cushion.

“This man is known by the name, Mistal'aerix, and has been send by Ish'tar. Leader of the Shadow coven in Duskwood.” The Satyr said whom welcomed Mistal.
The Satyrs looked at Mistal and considered him, they all gave a nod in a motion of understanding but stayed silent.

“The Fel is a foul but powerful force, Mistal'aerix. We of the Sargeron coven have been working with its powers for over some decades now and still we are awed by the destructive power it has to offer. As you may have been told we perform rituals which empower ourselves and our students.” The Satyr spoke slowly and monotone.

The words came to Mistal as if they were enchanted with magic. Even though Mistal knew he was in a very dangerous place he still felt himself at home. The room was filled with a sweet scent that made his muscles relax. The pastel colored walls and furniture brought also a feeling of welcoming. One that did not make Mistal lose his focus though, was the Demon that kept his felgreen eyes on Mistal. Mistal felt the eyes burn on his skin, but decided not to look straight into the eyes. The feelings that he got when he looked in them brought chills to his spine as soon as he thought about it.

“We trust Ish'tar to have given you the appropriate initial training. We do not accept failure. To become one of our fellow members we trust the men and women who have send their students to us to have given them the right initiation so we, Satyr of Sargeron could continue their students training without holding ourselves or the students back.”
Mistal felt the urge to nod at the words of the Satyr that just had spoken. Something told him that if he did not show any sign of obedience he might would get in trouble.

“Take our words in consideration Mistal'aerix. For we have to teach you the arts of Fel-sworn.” The Satyr took a moment of silence and eyes Mistal.
Mistal opened his mouth and tried to say something but no sound was heard.
“To communicate with us, Mistal'aerix, you shall speak in Demonic.” The Satyr smirked as he noted Mistal about this.
“Here in Sargeron we speak in Demonic, for we want no outsiders.” The Satyr narrowed his eyes and folded his arms in front his torso as he observed Mistal.

Mistal smirked in return and nodded. “Very well, Satyr. From now on, I shall speak in Demonic when I am located by the walls of these ruins.” He looked at the other Satyrs whom stared at Mistal in silence.
All of them gave a nod, not revealing any thoughts or emotions.

The Satyr who had been speaking to Mistal grabbed something behind its back.
“Elders, this man has brought us one of our students.” He brought his hand back to where everyone could see it and lowered it on the ground. He opened his palm and revealed a Soul shard.
“The man brought us the human we had sent to Ish'tar to complete his initiate training.”
The Satyr looked at Mistal. “Mistal'aerix and the human had a fight to show their strengths and see how they would fight under the effect of Fel-blood. Mistal'aerix won.” The Satyr kept his gaze upon Mistal. The others lifted their heads up and looked upon Mistal as well.

“This is the evidence that shows that Mistal'aerix is allowed to join our training ground.”
The other Satyr nodded in sync and kept their gazes burned upon Mistal's face.

The big Satyr stood up and the others followed his lead.
“Hereby I announce that Mistal'aerix has joined our ranks. May the Fel grant him the power he needs to complete his training and may the burden be enough to push his limits.”
Mistal looked at the Satyr whom then moved out of the building.

As a fresh breeze pushed itself uninvited into the building, Mistal kept his gaze focused on the curtains that hang at the entrance.

“Now that you have been granted access to the Satyr of Sargeron's art, you'd better take this opportunity at best as it may get, Mistal'aerix.
There will be a vial of Fel blood in your small but comfortable house waiting for you.
Be sure to drink it, since it will grant you some significant powers and abilities once you wake up.”

Mistal looked back over his shoulder to eye the demon. But as he turned his head and looked at the cushion where the demon sat, was nothing but emptiness.

Hmmm… I won't fail my task, not now!

Mistal slowly went through the curtains and stepped outside. He looked around.
People had scattered around the ruins and trained. Some trained alone, others together or in a group. Green flashes of Fel magic colored the ground just as another Fel fire skill raged from one opponent to another. Mistal smirked and continued his way towards his house.

On his way, Mistal had to ask the directions to the house. An older man told him that it was at the back of the building. Once Mistal turned around the last corner of the building and eyed five small houses. The three to the left were dark, some ragged curtain hang in front of the entrance and Mistal knew that those were already taken. The other two houses were also dark, but did not have any curtains. Mistal nodded tow himself and decided to take the fourth house. He stepped into the small cottage and was awed by how small the cottage actually looked. There was only a bed a sink and a toilet. Mistal shrugged and walked towards his bed. On the sheets lay a small vial. He didn't had to see what was inside of it because he knew that it was filled with Fel-blood.

After looking around the small cottage Mistal decided to go to bed. Hopefully he would get enough sleep so he could start his training with a fresh feeling.
He took off his robes and placed them next to his bed. He grabbed the vial and uncorked it.
Giving me significant powers… Mistal shrugged and drank the vial empty within a few sips. He placed the vial on his robes and pulled the sheets over his body.
His skin became itchy. He decided that it was because of the sheets and that he would try to wash them the next morning.
He closed his eyes and took some minutes to think everything through while the sleep slowly took over and he fell into a slumber.

[ruwendje44]

* It takes everything *

Tok…Tok…Tok…

The sound of a wooden staff knocking onto the wooden floor made Mistal realize that it was already morning.
He slowly turned between the sheets to gaze through the room and see where the knocking came from.
A small dark figure stood in one of the corners of the small cottage.
He stared at Mistal with his mist grey eyes.

“I hope I did not wake you from your slumber…” The man said.
“Hah, what made you think that?” Mistal shoved the sheets to the back of the bed and sat straight up to consider the man.

The old man wore grey robes, his eyes which were instead of grey, white.
He had a head full of white hair, that fell below his shoulder with a some curls.
He leaned unto his staff which looked like a simple branch that was chopped off a tree.

“Make yourself ready.” The man said and turned on his heels and walked out of the small cottage.
Mistal blinked and placed his hand to his forehead.
He lowered it again and looked at his hand.
Blood… Hmmm…

Mistal stepped out of his bed and grabbed his staff.
He turned and walked over to the small corner where he left his pouch.
He grabbed the pouch and lifted it up and started to run his hand through it to see for anything that would show his reflection.
He raised his brows as he pulled a dark colored stone out of his pouch.
He looked into it and saw that it reflected his face.
He held the small stone up a little higher and saw that the small nodules on his forehead had grown and became horns.
Dried blood surrounded the horns.
Mistal sighed and placed the stone back in to his pouch and pulled out a small handkerchief which he moved around the horns.

A few minutes later Mistal stepped out of his small cottage.
His attention got drawn by the small noise he heard when he woke up.
The man stood behind him against the wall of the cottage.
“You Sin'dorei only care about your looks.”
The man said with a sly smirk on his face.
“I'd rather look appropriate before I start my training.”
Mistal returned as he added a wink to his command.
The man nodded at Mistal and considered Mistal before he took a step into Mistal's direction.
“Well if you don't mind, I wish to continue to our training ground.”
Mistal frowned. “Well I won't hold you back.”
“Yes you do, Sin'dorei. I was appointed to get you started. So keep up, and follow me.”
The man knocked the staff on the ground and a green smoke started to whirl around the cane. Mistal kept his gaze focused on the cane.
A black orb appeared upon the head of the staff.
Little green sparkles started to dart inside the black globe.

The old man suddenly stood straight up.
He looked at Mistal with what looked like a sincere smile and nodded in the direction he was heading for.
“Follow me, Mistal'aerix.” The man turned his back on Mistal and walked towards a small ground full of circles and pentagrams.

Mistal smirked and followed the man towards the training ground.
He looked down on the ground and did not know what to expect.
He decided that it would be better to not expect anything and wait until the old man made a move.

“As you can see, we just entered our training ground. We shall be training around these ruins for as long as possible. But this here...”
He knocked his cane on the ash grey ground.
“Will be the pavement you will see, feel and smell most of your time around here.”
The sly smirk appeared again on the man's face.
Mistal raised a brow and rubbed his chin as he looked around.
He took in all the details that surrounded him and the old man.
“So this will be our training ground in the time I am around here?” He turned with his back at the old man and smirked.
“I think it will do just right. Since it is all we need.”
Mistal turned back to look at the man. The man looked back at Mistal and nodded. “It will.”

“You have been mutating…” The man said in monotone.
Mistal reached for the small horns that began to grow on his forehead and nodded.
“You have been mutating much further than you seem to know.” The man considered Mistal and with a hand he pointed at his teeth. “Fangs…”
Mistal touched his fangs with his hand and frowned. The Fangs had grown as well.
And Mistal did not notice any changes. Then he remembered what the Satyr said.
That the vial of Felblood would have big consequences.
The man grinned at Mistal and nodded. “Yes! You drank the vial, which was given to you yesterday… Good.”

The man mumbled a few words and in seconds a shadowbolt whirled around his upheld hand.
“Let us see if your power have mutated as well.”

Drops of sweat ran down Mistal's face, his teeth were destitute.
His eyes were greener than average and his muscles were tensed.
Three shadowbolts whirled around Mistal in circles of which one had green flames surrounding it.
“You need to focus, Focus boy!” The man yelled.
The three shadowbolts scattered as Mistal folded his hand and looked back over his shoulder at the old man.
“Boy?!”Mistal pushed himself back to his feet and stepped into the man's direction.
As Mistal stretched his hand at the man, he got pushed back by an invisible barrier.
“What the…?!” Mistal panted as he straightened his spine again.
“This here is a barrier. What kind of barrier is irrelevant.
I brought it up so I could teach you while not getting harmed by your tempered mood.”
The man tapped the ground with his cane and nodded at Mistal.
“Continue.”

Mistal exhaled and turned. He placed himself back on the pavement and closed his eyes.
He mumbled words as he placed his arms between his feet and a shadowbolt appeared beside Mistal's head.
“Focus just on this Shadowbolt, Mistal. As a warlock you need to focus onto the basic steps which every Magi learns throughout his training.
Visualization, meditation, focus and binding all of the three aspects together.”

Mistal knew that the three basic steps were indeed the essence to a successful spell.
But this was different.
He could visualize as much as he liked, but adding pure Fel magic to a shadow spell is exhausting as well as painful.
Mistal closed his eyes and visualized the shadowbolt in front of himself.
He tried to change the black entity of the shadow spell into a Fel green entity.
Then he reached for the mana pool inside himself and added the magic to the Fel green entity.
Somewhere he heard the sound of a chuckle, but he ignored it, and continued with focusing all his mana and Fel energy into the Fel green entity.
Mistal opened his eyes and looked at the Fel bolt that lingered in front of his eyes.
“That is what I meant!”
The old man said and placed his cane upon Mistal's right shoulder.
As soon as the cane touched Mistal's shoulder, he felt a strange surge that pulled all of his energy out of his body and with that feeling his eyes closed and everything became dark.


Hours later…


“He has completed his first Fel spell, sir.”
A voice familiar to Mistal said.
“Already? That is impossible… His mutation… Any changes?”
The voice of the Satyr replied. “This man, Mistal'aerix, has more potential than I have seen around here in three years… Michael.”
The Satyr continued.
“He most certainly has, sir. I had to use my own power to put him into a slumber… I hoped he would black out by the seventh try, but he kept going until he had completed the Chaoticbolt.
It is most interesting to have a student like this man, sir.”
Michael bowed before the Satyr and turned to look at Mistal.

The Satyr took the chance to get a glimpse of Mistal's facial features and rubbed his chin.
”His mutation has begun. I wonder what features he will develop during the months that have to come.”
The old man turned and nodded at the Satyr. “Don't we all?”
The Satyr shook his head and kept his gaze resting upon Mistal's body.
“I do not know for sure, Michael.
Some of us have experienced dramatic changes, which in the end killed them before others had the chance.
That some of us enjoyed the mutation does not mean that we could assume that this man would.” The Satyr lowered his gaze, eying Michael.
Michael nodded and turned to look at Mistal.
He grabbed something from beneath his robes and placed it next to Mistal's nightstand. “I believe he would enjoy a few sips from this, once he wakes up.”
The Satyr made a understandable gesture and turned to walk to the door.
He stopped on his way out and looked back over his shoulder at Michael.
“You leave this man to his rest as well, I assume?”
“O-of course, Sir.”
Michael replied and with just a few steps he stood behind the Satyr.
“Good” The Satyr said as he walked out of the small cottage, followed by Michael.

Mistal heard everything the two discussed besides his bed and smirked as he turned the sheets so he could sit up straight.
He looked at his nightstand and grabbed the small vial, left to him by Michael.
He kept the vial infront his eyes and his smirk disappeared and made way for a more sinister glance. He considered the drink.
So there have been men and women who did not enjoy their mutation…
How could it be that someone would not enjoy the mutation… The mutation which shall bring me more than I ever hoped for!

Mistal looked down on his pillow and saw more blood.
He frowned and reached with his hand for the horns on his forehead.
They keep growing…
He thought as he cleaned his hand with the handkerchief that laid on the nightstand.

Mistal decided that might be better to take a bit more of rest before he would return to his training.
He lowered himself between the sheets and kept his gaze focused on the ceiling.
Chaoticbolt... A spell some warlocks knew to use without using Felblood. But would their bolt be as powerful as mine?
He considered the option and smirked as he shook his head.
Of course not… He frowned at the ceiling.
Well maybe… But it does not matter.
Mistal turned to his left and looked at a grey wall.
The feeling that went through my body when I created my first chaoticbolt…
It was not as most of my other skills.
Not at all… It felt… dangerous as if tapping in a darker hole than that of the Shadow…

Mistal sighed and closed his eyes… Slowly the sleep conquered his body and he fell into the deep unknown.

When Mistal finally woke up the sun stood high in the sky. He stepped out of bed and washed his face.
A bit of blood dripped unto his handkerchief. Mistal ignored it and walked out of the small cottage towards the training ground.
Some men and women who were training looked up from whatever they did and followed his movement.
He tried to ignore their glances as best as he could. Though it did get on his nerves.
When Mistal reached the training ground he looked at Michael and nodded at him.
Besides Michael stood the Demon he had encountered a few days back.
The Demon kept his gaze focused onto Mistal and smirked.
“Mistal'aerix, finally… seemed as if you'd never wake up.”
Michael said with a grin on his face.
Mistal ignored the remark and looked at the Demon.
“And what is your name?” Mistal asked as he eyed the Demon.
“My name does not matter, student. I am here to see how your training goes.”
Mistal lifted his chin and lifted his left hand into the air. A shadowbolt appeared right beside him and Mistal closed his eyes.
Slowly a green glow surrounded the shadowbolt and slowly it the green glow got to the core of the spell.
“As you can see, does Michael do a good job teaching me my lessons.”
Michael's gasped at what Mistal said and looked at the demon. “I'm so sorry…”

The Demon stepped forward and snapped a finger. Suddenly two chaoticbolts went for Mistal.
Mistal's intuition took it over and he jumped from one place to another to avoid the Chaoticbolts.
The Demon smirked and snapped his finger again.
The two Chaoticbolts launched themselves unto the pavement. They left two coiled gaps unto the pavement and smoke rose into the air.
Others who were training nearby rushed towards the scene and stayed at a safe distance the moment they saw Mistal and the Demon.
Mistal looked at their face but did not get why they looked so scared.
“Your mutation… You are showing progress, Mistal'aerix.”
Mistal let his gaze move back to the Demon and eyed him.
“Pardon me?” Mistal asked with a frown.
“Your reflexes are way too good for a mere Warlock.
The mutation has also influenced your mental powers as well as your reflexes and power.
That is why you are supposed to keep drinking Fel-blood.”
The demon took a step back and realized that more people looked as that he thought.
“Off you go!” He yelled. And with those words the crowd around them scattered.

The demon looked back at Mistal and nodded.
“Now that I know that you have been advancing in the art of Fel magic,
I will be glad to bring this message to one of my superiors and tell them another member shall join the order.”
The demon kept his gaze focused on Mistal and smirked.
“We have had our conversations, by just a mere connection that was created by your will power to become one of the others.”
Michael's muscles relaxed and he sighed. The demon turned and looked at Michael.
“What is wrong?” He raised a brow and folded his arms as he stared at Michael.
“N-nothing…” Michael replied with a stutter.

Mistal did not know what to do or to say…
Did he just get an acknowledgement on his achievements so far?
The scouts of the burning legion were impressed with his progress?
It Mistal kept silent and awaited something as ‘Get back to work' or something.
But instead he was asked to take a good rest and drink another vial of Fel blood.

Mistal drank the Felblood before he went off to bed.
He thought some things through before he fell asleep.

Days passed into weeks, weeks became months and Mistal practiced and practiced.
With the months he learned how to develop his skills and train the reflexes which increased.
He enjoyed the tasks that got thrown at him.
Although not all of them worked out as simple as he would have thought.

Mistal knew that he was just a few steps away from completing his training, but until then he had to continue and wait for the moment to arise…

[ruwendje44]

* As rough as it may get *

Green chaoticbolts, Green fire spells, pentagrams and even minions.
That was everything that Mistal had seen the last months he had been training among the Sargeron Satyr ruins.
Although he had gained quite some advantages for following the arts the Satyr had to offer, Mistal felt as if he was still not complete.

The Satyr that has been keeping a close eye on Mistal stepped into his cottage. Mistal was busy with cleaning his clothes.
Although he obeyed every rule which was set by the Satyr within the ruins, he still did not think it would make any difference if you did or did not look good.
And as a true Blood elf, he stayed true to the thought of looking as sophisticated as could be.

The Satyr paused in the middle of the small cottage and considered Mistal before he pulled a vial of Fel-blood out of his pouch.
He held the small vial in his hand as he kept his gaze focused on Mistal.
Mistal turned and faced the Satyr and nodded.
“Greetings, sir.”
“You have been improving your skills among our kin and students. I must say you did impress me.” The Satyr said as he continued towards Mistal's bed.
He sat on it and clamped his hand together, holding the vial between his hands.
“Your progress has been noticed by the Legion servants. You may be very pleased.”

Mistal decided that it would be rude to stay while his superior sat on his bed and so he lowered himself to the floor. He nodded and smirked.
“It has been a honor to be selected for their ranks. Although I know that many around Azeroth and beyond would never except people like us; who work together with the Legion.”
The smirk disappeared and he looked at the ground.
“Mistal'aerix… It is lonely at the top, as the human recall.” The Satyr smiled.
“Your powers have increased by levels that some don't even know how to bear. It is a blessing to become one of us.
But it does bring some sacrifices like leaving some people behind.”
Mistal nodded and looked back up at the Satyr.
“Although the Fel changes our features, our powers and a bit of our hearts, we are still living beings with feelings.” The Satyr chuckled.
“Of course others would never admit that. Never expect another living being to acknowledge your powers, unless it is a Fel-sworn.”
The Satyr paused and scratched the back of his head before he continued.
“Here at our Coven, we should always remember Mistal'aerix.
You have been a man who did not impress anyone, until you started to mutate those wonderful features of yours.”
The Satyr observed Mistal's face and nodded.

Mistal did not know what to answer and decided to stay silent, and hoped the Satyr would leave him to his studies…soon.
As if the Satyr read his mind he stood up and laid the vial with Fel-blood on the bed. He walked passed Mistal and gave him a pat on the shoulder.
Then he left the small cottage.

Mistal had the idea he still wasn't finished with his training and something within him made him thirsty for more… Much more.
Suddenly Michael walked into the cottage and knocked with his cane on the wooden floor.
“I believe we haven't trained much today… Follow me.”
Mistal knew that it was only a matter of time before he would end his training and return to the living world around these ruins and devastated lands.
He stood up, drank the liquid and walked out of his cottage.
As he set another step towards the battle ground he heard a sarcastic cough.
“I asked you to follow, didn't I?” Michael said as he smirked slyly at Mistal.

Mistal turned and decided to follow the old man.
Michael walked faster than usual, he went from one corner to another without looking cripple. He did not even lean on his cane. Michael looked back at Mistal and grinned.
“Ain't Fel-blood an amazing drug.”
He looked back to where he was heading and turned another corner.

Mistal shook his head but did not reply onto the Human's remark.
Suddenly a small fence doomed up in front Mistal and Michael, and Mistal looked at it with a frown.
“Where are we?” Mistal asked.
Michael ignored the question and kept going forward. Mistal slowly saw where the man was bringing them.
Behind the fence a larger cottage stood. It looked a bit more sophisticated than he was used to.
A slight smile spread about his face as he closed in on the cottage.

Michael stopped in front of the fence and waved with his hand. The fence opened and Michael motioned at Mistal to enter the small garden.
Mistal stepped through the fence and turned to look at Michael.
“Why are we here?”
Michael grinned and shook his head.
“You haven't learned since you're here. The Fel has far more secrets than you and I together could ever imagine. You'd better let yourself be surprised and see what this is all about.”
Michael motioned with his hand to Mistal to move closer to the cottage and enter the house.
Mistal frowned but decided that his reflexes would warn him before he was even aware of the problems that might await him.

After Michael and Mistal both entered the house and Michael had given Mistal the opportunity to look around, letting him getting used to the cottage, Michael decided it was time to talk to Mistal about the things that were awaiting the man.
“Mistal'aerix, please take a seat, as there is a lot to discuss.”
Mistal turned with a mug filled with tea and walked over to a small table that stood in the living room.
He placed the mug on the table and took a seat opposite of Michael.
“Yes?”

Michael clamped his hands together and sighed.
“You have been a wonderful student… You pick up the robes quite easily and once you do you are motivated to continue to improve your skills.
Which has not been seen by all of our students.
Within a day you shall be send back to Duskwood.”
Michael took the time to let the information get to Mistal.
“But if you leave these grounds, you will have to realize that Taverns in Booty Bay and even Ratchet are not your save havens anymore.
You should realize that once you leave this district you shall be hunted by Demon hunters and even followers of The Light.”
Mistal lifted up his hand and silenced Michael.
“I am fully aware of this, Michael. One of the elders came by my cottage a few minutes before you, and explained me the same things.”
Michael shook his head and slammed his fist on the table. The mug tumbled by the impact of the blow.
Some of the tea dripped onto the table. Mistal looked at the liquid that got absorbed by the dry wood.
“Even if –All- the elder would have had visited you, Mistal'aerix. You should take their and my words in consideration.
You have been a great student, and you show great potential, but to get that potential to grow, you should try to stay alive for as long as it takes!”

Michael's eyes were full of tears, no tears of sadness but because of frustration.
It was known that a lot of Fel-sworn wouldn't even make it alive to travel from place to another if there was only one Priest or Demon Hunter near.
Michael was fully aware that the stubbornness and arrogance of Mistal were just some features he got raised up with.

Mistal shook his head and stood up.
“Michael, of course I am aware that these features…”
Mistal pointed at his horns.
”These are the reason why I would never make it from one place to another by telling people I am just a mage who have been exposed to Fel-energy.”
Mistal frowned and rubbed his chin.
“I am sure no hood or mask would cover these features... And hopefully I make it out alive and be able to visit my old Coven,
but therefore I shall need a faster way to travel than most of my available objects, mounts and the like.” Mistal looked up at Michael.

“Ah, there you hit the nail on its head!” Michael jumped up and smiled.
“If you would have looked around at the people that train around here, you would have noticed that we also train Mages around here.” Michael frowned at Mistal.
“But as arrogant as your kin is, you did not take the time to meet others. You did not care about others and their ‘mere' powers compared to yours.”
Michael lowered himself in his seat again and shook his head as he continued.
“But that is not relevant anymore, you are going to your coven back in Duskwood.”

Mistal smirked and took a sip of a glass filled with water.
“And how, Michael, would you send me to Duskwood?”
“By simply accepting the help of a dear friend of mine, she will teleport you back to Duskwood.
You'd better get ready and drink the last three vials I left for you in a small pouch over in that corner.”
Michael pointed at a small corner next to Mistal's bed.
“You shall need them for your final transformation, and you'd better make sure you be ready for the trip, since for one who doesn't travel by portals often, won't like a bit.”


With that Michael stood up and nodded at Mistal.
“Tomorrow you shall leave our coven, and visit Ish'tar from then on, you will be free to do as you please.”
Michael said with a sparkle in his eyes.

With those words Michael walked out of the small cottage, leaving Mistal to himself.
And so Mistal looked around the small cottage.
He couldn't believe this would be the last night he would sleep among the other Fel users.
He was taught some very valuable lessons, hard, but very valuable.
As he had promised to both himself and to Ish'tar he would finish his training among the Satyr of Sargeron and wouldn't fail his training.
And so he had. He accomplished something didn't expect to happen.
To be accepted to undergo the initial training back in Duskwood, was already something Mistal was very excited about.
But to complete the training and move back to Duskwood to show Ish'tar the results.
Was something he only dreamed about when he failed a task…

Mistal looked over his shoulder at the pouch in the corner. His right eyebrow perked as Mistal remembered the words of Michael.
“You shall need them for your final transformation.”
Mistal stood up and walked over to the pouch, he lifted it up in the air with a snap of his finger and looked inside it.
He saw the three vials of Fel-blood and took a seat on the side of his bed.
“What was that old man talking about?”
Mistal brought one of his hands to the horns on his forehead. He felt the stingy end of the horn.
He shook his head and lowered his arm again.
“The mutation has given me features which are going to make it quite unpleasant to visit my trusted havens.
It will not make it any easier for me, but now that it has almost completed… I must accept the last few steps.”

He sighed and grabbed one of the vials, uncorked it and started to pour the liquid.
As the first vial was empty Mistal laid down on his back on the bed and looked at the ceiling.
“Finally.” His eyes spread and his muscles tensed. “What ugh…”
The veins on Mistal's forehead throbbed and his head felt as if it would explode. He had no more control over his body.
It felt as if his whole body was set on fire.
The headache started to increase in level, the pain went from his forehead all the way down his jaw to the two fangs that grown through the time.

Try to let go of the control, Mistal'aerix.
Mistal closed his eyes and exhaled. It took him minutes to let his body do as it pleased.
The pain reduced as well as the throbbing of his veins.

Now take the second vial, and drink it.
Mistal had no idea of where the words came from. But it did not matter.
He decided to do what the voice told him, just so he could get through the last steps.

Mistal relaxed, and gave his body the right to move as it needed, his right hand stretched and took the second vial out of the pouch.
Mistal's hand snapped two finger and the vial got uncorked and brought back to his mouth.
He drank the second vial empty.

At first nothing seemed to happen. Then suddenly, his skin started to itch. Mistal pulled his sleeves up and looked at his arms, which slowly started to become red.
Mistal thought it was blood that turned his skin color red, but it wasn't.
The Fel-blood caused the skin to show small cracks. At some points Mistal could see his veins quite clearly.

Mistal shook his head and sweat dripped onto the sheets of his bed. He refused to drink the third vial. It felt as if the Fel-blood would kill him.
He realized that whatever he had been drinking now, was way more powerful than he ever had.

There's no more turning back, Mistal'aerix. Drink the last vial, and it will be all over soon.
Mistal tried to get his control back, but with no success. He felt his muscles in his arm stretch as it went for the third and last vial in the pouch.
Tears dripped over Mistal's cheeks as his hand found the last vial. He never fret. But this was different.
He'd never expected to be consumed by the Fel itself, At least not in a way like this.
He hoped it would all be more pleasant. Be painful, of course, but not as painful as this.

Trust the Fel…
Mistal opened his eyes and saw that the vial lingered in front of his eyes. He shook his head, but his muscles tilted his head up.
More tears went down his face as Mistal tried to resist this horror. But no use.
Slowly the muscles around his mouth started to fight the resistance and his mouth opened, bit by bit.
“No, no noooo” Mistal screamed out as the vial uncorked and lowered.
The liquid got poured in Mistal's mouth and his body did the rest, consuming the foul liquid.

The vial was empty, and fell onto the sheets.
Mistal's inhaled and exhaled again. He let his head rest on the cushion again and cried.
Everything he thought he had learned was just a lie… It was a lie…
You did well, now rest.

Mistal stopped crying and blinked.
“Why, why does it hurt like this?”
He took another glance at his arms and lowered his sleeves again.
He could not look at these hiddious things that were his arms.
He decided it would be better not to look into the dark stone that would reflect his awful self.
Instead he lowered his head again and closed his eyes.

Minutes passed and slowly his mind got taken over by the comfortable feeling of sleep…

The Next morning

Michael knocked with his cane on the wooden floor and looked at Mistal's back.
He smirked as Mistal slowly turned in his sheets and opened his eyes.

“Ah, so you drank all the vials I see…” Michael said with a grin and nodded.
“Very good…”

[ruwendje44]

* Practice makes perfect *

Spoiler:

Disclaimer: As you will see, the name of Rosencrat's character will be mentioned further into the story. ( Marianna Bisen. )
I had the right to use her name. The use of the name was intended to refer to another location, where Mistal'aerix shall continue his storyline. ( Which has nothing to do with this topic. )

Mistal observed the human before he pushed the sheets aside and sat straight up in bed.
“Hmm… what you mean?” Mistal frowned as he heard his own voice… It was heavier than before.

“Ha, it seems you haven't seen yourself yet… Best if you did though. You might like what you will see.”
Michael grinned as he turned and knocked with the cane on the wooden floor.
Behind Michael moved a shadow. The sight went from right to left and it appeared beneath the curtains that hang at the entrance.
Mistal tilted his head at the Shadow.
“Who's standing behind the curtain, Michael? You know I rather have no eavesdroppers around my cottage.”
He narrowed his eyes as he stared at Michael.

Michael turned and opened the curtains by waving his hand.
“Well, Mistal meet the woman who is about to send you back to Duskwood, Mrs Shaden.”
A young girl stepped into the cottage with two dark brown breads that rest onto her shoulders.
She looked quite pale, she her slim body figure and her confidence radiation made her seem as an opponent not to be underestimated.

She nodded at Mistal, her expression showed awed, but she knew to cover it by frowning and asking Michael when he would continue her training.
On which he answered that he would as soon as they had sent Mistal to Duskwood. She nodded and gazed back at Mistal.

Mistal stepped out of his bed and snapped his finger. His own pouch hovered from the table over to Mistal.
He kept his gaze on Michael and Mrs. Shaden as he let his hand search for something that would show his reflection.
His hand folded around a cold object that felt familiar and he took it out of his pouch.
The pouch lowered to the ground and Mistal opened his hand.

Within his hand he held the dark stone. It reflected his forehead from the direction was looking at the stone.
The two horns on his head seemed to have finished that growth, as well as his fangs.
His skin color darkened and revealed cracks that were as green as his eyes.
Mistal shook his head and turned to Michael.
“Let's get going.”

“Of course Mistal'aerix… I have just one question… Do you have a pact with one of your demons?” Michael looked serious as he asked the question.
Mistal smirked and shook his head. “A pact with a Demon? Of course not.”
Michael nodded with a troubled expression on his face.
“How are you supposed to consume Fel-blood then?”
Mistal hadn't thought of that since he started this journey he had all the Fel-blood he needed.
Provided by his superior. But he would've known that this day would come… and so he had to think of a way to get himself Fel-blood.
Mistal looked at Michael. “I will find a way…”

Michael knocked with his cane on the ground as he turned.
“That will be up to you, Mrs. Shaden and Mistal'aerix, if you would care to follow me.”
Mistal and Mrs. Shaden followed Michael out of the cottage. Mistal looked back for a second.
It was some sort of relief to leave the house behind, it wasn't the best place Mistal had visited since he joined the Satyr of Sargeron.
In this house he had suffer more severe pain than he had ever before.

Michael kept a steady pace as he continued towards what looked like a small training ground.
“We've arrived.”
Mistal perked a brow.
“Primitive…” Mistal said as he looked at the small training ground.
Michael nodded. “Indeed it is. It is all we need… Portals aren't that big, you know.”
Mistal nodded and looked at Mrs. Shaden.
“When will you begin?” He asked.
Mrs. Shaden looked up at the sky and smiled.
“About now.” She said and threw a Rune on the ground.

A cold breeze rose up around the training ground. Michael smirked as he observed Mrs. Shaden.
She closed her eyes and started to mumble words in Common. Soon, a pentagram appeared beneath the rune and a golden glow moved over the pentagram.
Just above the pentagram the air seemed to move. And soon a golden ring appeared above the pentagram.
Creating a hole into the air. Suddenly an image of the Duskwood appeared.
As Mistal kept his gaze focused on the image he noticed that the image became more clear.
It showed the place where Mistal had to go.

A dark forest filled with large trees rising up high in the sky. Between two large trees a giant rock and a door could be seen.
Mistal knew that was the entrance to the Coven. A sly smirk appeared onto his face.
While Mistal was focused on the image within the portal, he hadn't noticed that Mrs. Shaden was already done.
“You may step through the portal, do it quick though, it won't last for long.” Mrs. Shaden said.

Michael stepped towards Mistal and patted him on his shoulder.
“You are ready to go, Mistal'aerix. You were a special student, Mistal.
I enjoyed the time I had to spent with you, teaching everything that was possible.”
Mistal gave a slight nod. “The honor is mine, Michael. Without your lessons I would not have become what I am now. Thank you.”
He turned and looked at Mrs. Shaden. “Thank you.”
With those words he stepped through the portal.

Everything was black for moments. It felt as if Mistal was in some sort of sleep without dreams.
There was no sound, only swift images of places he had seen before.
Some more clearer than others.
Then in front of him, he saw his destination. The trees of Duskwood started to rise up infront of him, underneath his feet grass started to grow.
A cold breeze moved against his robes.
He inhaled and oxygen filled his lungs.
Mistal nodded and took a step towards the cave in front of him.

His stomach started to boil from the inside, and soon he bended forward and had to vomit.
The trip had taken more of him than he would have thought.
Luckily he was still able to breath and had reached his destination.

When Mistal felt that it was save to stand up again he smirked and got back to his feet.
“Michael was right…” He said as he walked over to the entrance of the Coven.
He opened the door and went downstairs with the stairs.
The sweet smell of scents that filled the air from the main room, made Mistal felt right where he belonged.

He opened the door and looked through the room.
At the large desk that stood opposite from the main door, Ish'tar was writing a letter.
“Good evening, Mistal'aerix.” He said without looking up from the parchment.
“Greetings.” Mistal replied.
He looked around the room and was surprised that he and Ish'tar were the only ones in the small room.

“Your training must have been a success… Or else you would have not returned.” Ish'tar said followed by a soft chuckle.
“I knew it was the right decision to send you to those, Satyr.
And let you become one of us, just so you can help your friends and other Loyalists.”
Ish'tar laid his pencil next to the parchment and looked up at Mistal.
His eyes widened, but narrowed quite quickly again.
“Your mutation… You look better than I expected.”
Ish'tar stood up, walked around his desk and over to Mistal. He moved his hand over his facial features.
“These fangs…Horns… And even your skin… Amazing.” He dropped his hand again and took a few steps back.

Mistal was surprised to be welcomed like this. He had never expected Ish'tar to compliment him, or anyone else.
But it seemed once you became one of theirs, he did.
Ish'tar nodded at Mistal and smirked.
“This wonderful… I'm sure you want to get back to your old live, but dear Mistal'aerix… That will be impossible.”
Ish'tar snapped his neck causing the sound of snapping bones to fill the room.
“I know…” Mistal replied.
“But I need to get back to the real world. I will make sure I can.”
Ish'tar shook his head.
“Mistal'aerix, why would you think that wouldn't be possible. You may return to the real world.
Like you are now, you may even go back to Silvermoon city, if you feel like it. But hear me out before you do so.”

Mistal sighed. “As you please.”
Ish'tar turned and walked over to his desk and took his seat again.
“As you may know, aren't we the only ones that are this experienced with the Fel.
There are more like us… And it may be wise to visit one of them to learn more about living in our world as one of us.
It won't be wise to just walk out of here without a destination.”
Ish'tar moved his finger over the desk, engraving demonic characters in the wooden plate.
“There is a woman, known by the name of Marianna Bisen, who is one of us as well. She is located in the mountains of Deadwind Pass.”
Ish'tar stopped engraving and clamped his hands together.
“She's very experienced in dealing with others who may want to hurt our kind. It would be best if you move as fast and quickly over to the Deadwind Pass and meet this woman.”

Mistal considered the explanation before he nodded.
“This would be a great opportunity for me to meet others like us.” He replied.
“Good… Now if you need sleep or food, you may stay for the evening.
Although the evening does offer you the best environment to travel through.”
Ish'tar grabbed his pencil and started to write again. “Your choice.”
He looked up for a moment and smirked. “Welcome back.”
Mistal narrowed his eyes and turned on his heels.
“I am glad to be back again and I thank you for all the opportunities I have had since I had visit you.”
“Anytime.” Ish'tar replied as he kept his eyes focused on the Parchment.

Mistal stepped onto the soft grass and back into the cold wind that blew around the Coven.
He lifted his hand and narrowed his eyes, a chaotic bolt formed in his hand and he shot it into the air.
“I am back!” He yelled in Demonic.

He closed his eyes, and mumbled some words.
Suddenly the winnie of a Dreadsteed filled the air around him and from a hole in the ground, a Dreadsteed appeared.
Mistal patted the animal against the fiery manes and nodded.
“Our destination… Deadwind Pass…” He said as he jumped onto the Dreadsteed's back and tucked his legs into the creatures stomach.

And as swiftly as the animal could, he ran off into the dark night.
Carrying his old but improved Master towards new

Power
Acknowledgement
A new begin