Second Sight

[Piken]

Ceredor would watch his teacher as she went and did business with the Goblin. Though he didn't watch too long.. He was busy trying to catch his breath. He gave light nods of acknowledgement when he was spoken too. By the time she had the ship ready, he was able to stand up. Barely, but he did it. Again.. He was a stubborn man.

He walked over to the ship, at this point probably preferring it to be slower so he could rest longer, but he was more than happy to have any rest. He stepped onto the boat and began to gather some food and drink for himself and started to eat, but paced himself. Over-eating and vomiting never did anyone any good.

Ceredor acknowledged and nodded. "I understand. There has been no going back since the day I asked you to teach me." He looked up at Theleniel again, listening to her question and, without seeming to have to think about the question, he responded, "I want them to pay for all they've done.. I want them to suffer like the countless hundreds and thousands that have lost so much to their senseless destruction." He spoke with a determined tone. He was dead-set on making them pay.

[flammos200]

The boat left port as soon as Theleniel picked up her first orange and started across the sea. The Demon Hunter made good use of her claws in peeling said fruit and uncorking a bottle of a strange, seemingly fizzy drink. As she partook of the treats, she listened, and at the end she nodded smiling.

"So much rage... Good. It will serve you well. This desire for vengeance will empower you... Or consume you if you let it." She rubbed at her nose suppressing a sneeze to the fizzy drink tickling her. "As you are probably aware, in the Blasted Lands lies the Dark Portal and with it a large concentration of demons." she turned her gaze Eastward, to the continent of their destination.

"One of them has blood filled with rage beyond measure. The berserkers of the Legion, who go bare-chested, with but an axe into war. Fel-guards." she peered then to Ceredor. "They're large, blue, and about twice your size. They bleed green..." she paused. "There is also an altar there, that will suit our cause well. Until we arrive though, you should set aside your troubling thoughts and rest. You've earned it thus far."

[Piken]

Ceredor nodded as she spoke to him. He had dealt with lesser Felguards before. And even the lesser demons were quite a handful for a small group. The larger would be even more of a challenge. But he cared little for it. In his mind if he survived, he was worthy. If he did not, he was not.

The Night Elf took advantage of the "relaxation" allowed by his mentor and he took this time to rest, eat and regain his strength, and study. He studied the scrolls he had memorized weeks ago. He wanted to relax and let his real personality come forth. Strike up a conversation, be himself, but he had trouble. Every time he looked upon the Blood Elf, his mind went to what he was doing, what led him here, where it was taking him. A month ago, he was a normal Night Elf, doing whatever he could for his people and home. Now.. he had abandoned them, but for their sake. He put aside all he loved and held dear, sacrificing his own sanity and life, any hope of a future, for this power. The power of the Legion, that which he hated so much, to take the fight to them and use it against their own evil masters. You reap what you sow, he thought.

He would occasionally ask about little random things. He felt like a child looking up to an older sibling in a way. He wondered and questioned the rituals, what a different demon could mean for bindings, many things. He knew nothing of what he was doing. He wanted to know more. The more he knew, the more prepared he would be for events to come.

[flammos200]

Theleniel enjoyed her bit of respite as well. Her aggression was channeled mostly towards fruit, however. She partook of a good amount of them, the more juicy the better, as though she'd scarcely had any beforehand.

Regardless, she did answer some of Ceredor's questions, though none on the trials beyond the First Binding. "There's a reason they're kept secret until you're ready to go through them." she explained.

"After you sacrifice the Fel-guard with the knife I will give you - and you must use that knife to do so, preferably upon a certain altar in the Blasted Lands, I will carve upon your skin the same pattern that exists on mine. Rage." she exhaled.

"It will hurt you immensely. Especially since you are Kaldorei and inherently averse to Fel. But you will have to bear it without showing weakness. The ritual of sacrifice and engraving is called the First Binding because a measure of the demon's soul, of who and what it represents is transferred to you." she frowns.

"But mortal bodies are not meant to hold the souls of demons. You will fall almost deathly ill. Feverish and delirious, you will slip into a week-long dream. In there, you will have to face this aspect of yourself. You will have to battle your own rage and conquer it, lest it - and the demon soul - conquer you." she smiles a little. "I'm telling you this because nothing can prepare you for such a struggle. The truth of a Demon Hunter's existence is that they are their own worst enemy." she watches Ceredor carefully.

The Demon Hunter shrugged. "If you do not wake within one week, victorious over the demon, you will be slain."

[Piken]

Ceredor listened to his mentor as she explained what the First Binding would consist of, what would happen to him and what he would have to do. He attempted to look without emotion, but the body doesn't always do what the mind wishes.. Their was a slight concern in his eyes and a frown upon his lips. But he listened intently, taking in everything she said to him. He nodded as he listened, trying to prepare himself mentally for whatever he would have to face.

When she finished speaking, he nodded again. "I would expect nothing less. If I cannot contain it, it must be destroyed.. A Felguard.." He snickered, "Well.. Should be a fun fight. I've never fought a demon, especially a Felguard, with a dagger. It will be interesting." His lips curled into a small smile. It may have been a nervous reaction, or just him trying to find some light in all the darkness. He looked back up at his mentor. "Redundant to say it again, but I will say it anyway.. I am ready." His Common had improved much in the time of his training, as he had been training himself in speaking in it over Darnassian. He still had the heavy accent, but he didn't leave out important words or speak in fragments anymore.

[flammos200]

Theleniel watched Ceredor and nodded once. She continued eating and drinking - typically fruit juice for the latter. And some more of the carbonated drink that made her sneeze. "Agreed." she nodded.

"It will. And the entire ordeal will grant you the fuel for the first abilities of our kind. But let's see you survive until then." the Demon Hunter said and nodded, looking Eastward. "It should not be too long to the Blasted Lands..." she murmured quietly.

[Piken]

The Kaldorei nodded as he listened to her speak. He couldn't help but snicker as he followed her gaze Eastward, staring out into the sky now, more than the horizon, his mind wandering to much better places than where he was headed. "Heh.. I can't wait."

For the rest of the voyage, he would be quiet for the most part, usually lost in thought as he ate. He stayed away from the odd carbonated drinks and the sweeter of the fruits and foods, preferring saltier and bitter foods.

[flammos200]

At last, red cliffs with a winding path leading to a small pier were in sight. The vessel headed straight for the wooden outcrop. The trip itself hadn't taken far too much time, and it was clear from the way the Goblins manning the little ship how quickly they wanted to be rid of the place they'd reached.

The air smelled potently of sulfur, and it was neither too hot, nor too cold, though the breezes that wafted past were definitely bearers of some unseen heat. The Demon Hunter had just finished a meal when they landed. She rose. "Ceredor.. The time has come." she said and stepped off the boat, beckoning the Kaldorei with a claw.

"You will find your prey in a place called the Tainted Scar." Theleniel then pointed to the sky. "It is early morning. The sun is still eastward on the sky, judging by how the goblins averted their gaze from it, and how most warmth comes from there." she started up the path, and when she reached the cliff tops, they were greeted with a visage of many crimson hills.

"If you go towards the South-West, you will find the Scar and your quarry, where the air becomes grey, and so does the soil underfoot, like an unsubtle poison. But you must not fight it there, for in such a space it would surely win." the Blood Elf explained. She slipped a hand under her kilt and drew out a long, winding dagger, about the size of a short-sword, that seemed to have been created out of the bones of some creature. The weapon's core seemed to be hollowed out minutely, likely to store the blood of the things it slays. She handed it to Ceredor.

"Instead, you will anger your Fel-guard, and you will run Northward, so it will follow you. There, the air will clear and you will come to an altar, surrounded by many skulls. That is where you wish to deliver you finishing blow. Once you have done so, I will emerge, and we will proceed with the binding." Theleniel exhaled. "Once again, accept no help from anyone, nor seek anyone's help. This is -your- trial. Your test. Good luck to you." she said and crossed her arms, watching.

[Piken]

The Elf looked out over the red hills of the Blasted Lands. This is the home of the Dark Portal.. He had heard talk of it many times, but never been anywhere near it. He had barely left the forests of Ashenvale. And even when he did, he was usually still in Night Elven lands. He felt the heat of the breeze.. The heat of the sands. All of it. It all felt.. unnatural. It chilled his spine to be in such a tainted place.

Ceredor listened to his orders and nodded, remaining silent for the most part. Once she was done, he would take the dagger, inspecting it then nodding to her. He knelt down to pick up a rock that sat at their feet, looking at it then at her with a little smile. "Well.. After the last trial.. What's a bit more running? At least there will be some chase now. Let the Binding begin.." He said, his 'happy' tone failing to disguise that last bit of dread. Though, in his eyes, he was more than determined. And so he took off in the direction she pointed him.

Ceredor's feet almost seemed to burn with every step. It was his mind.. He couldn't stand this place. The taint, everything about it. It was as if the land itself was just an abomination now. A stain on the earth. He ran on, keeping an eye out for the grey air, but also for any other threats. This place was tainted.. There was sure to be a large amount of demons scattered about the sands. Eventually, he would come up on what he figured was the area that his prey would be.. And he would find one not too long after finding the area.

His prey was no small fry, that was for sure. It was massive compared to the kinds he was used to. This demon.. You could tell it had been the cause of countless deaths. His eyes narrowed as he hid low behind a gathering of conveniently placed rocks. He looked around the area, seeing nothing else that could get in his way.. and then he picked up another rock. Ceredor smiled.. Though his eyes were filled with anger. Just seeing this abomination, thinking on what it's done, the pain it's caused.. He took a deep breath then sprinted out from behind the rock and toward the Demon. He kept his body low, attempting to hide from its immediate view and then.. CLUNK! The sound of a rock he held being thrown and hitting the demon square in the head. It let out an irritated roar and spun around to find its attacker. Ceredor grinned, tossing another rock in his hand. "Come, filth.." He muttered as the demon wasted no time in charging at him. As it charged, Ceredor threw another rock, which bounced off of the demon's massive, unarmored chest. But it still irritated the demon and it sprinted after him. Ceredor immediately took off after throwing the second rock, heading toward the Altar. He occasionally taunted the Fel-guard as they ran, and threw more rocks at it whenever he could find them.

Finally, he saw the Altar coming up.. The demon seemed to hesitate slightly.. But that ended fast as another rock bounced off of its helm. When he was close to the altar, he turned now, pulling out the dagger.. But it seemed that the Demon gained quite a lot of ground in those few seconds of readying himself. He had to roll to the side to dodge the falling axe, which smashed into the ground where he just stood. The demon roared and pulled back its weapon, swinging at him once more, this time at an upward diagonal slash, which he rolled away from again and this time he slashed at the Fel-guard's midsection, getting a gash dug in decently deep, the green blood leaving from the wound. He smirked, proud of himself for dealing damage to such an enemy, but he quickly learned not to let his ego get the better of him so early as he was flung back by the massive foot connecting with his chest. He flew back several feet, tumbling in the red dirt of the Blasted Lands. He growled, not liking the feel of it on his skin at all. He shook the sands from him and jumped back as the axe was swung down at him again. He would then swiftly kick the large blade from the side, sending it away from him and dash forward to stick the dagger deep into the Felguard's gut and turning it. "Die, demon..!" He said softly, then yanked the blade out and rolled away to avoid the punch. Again, the Demon swung its axe down. The third time and it didn't seem to be learning after Ceredor easily evaded it again, but.. it was. The swing wasn't nearly as powerful as the others so it was stopped easily and when Ceredor attempted to do the same move again, he was whacked away with the side of the axe. He grunted as he flew away again, scrapes and cuts forming from hitting the grainy, sharp sands, as well from the hits he'd taken so far. But he was far from done..

The Elf and Demon would play a small game of cat and mouse, in the respect of Ceredor needing to rely heavily on evading and agility to try and beat the Felguard.. There was no way he could possibly overpower it. But as time went on, the Demon took more damage than Ceredor and eventually begin to slow, its blood seeping from its wounds over time.. Ceredor finally had his opening when the massive Felguard bent over just a bit too far. That last bit of energy that Ceredor was saving was now put to use as he dashed forward, able to strike upwards and slash the throat of the beast! The Felguard stumbled backwards, attempting to roar, the green blood spurting out from its fatal wound. Ceredor sat and watched it struggle. It still made an attempt to fight, as he expected, but this wound, along with all the others, were draining it of all energy. Even Demons have their limits, he thought. He now just kept his distance.. Long enough for the abomination to bleed out.

The Kaldorei stared down at the corpse of the massive beast. He dug the dagger into the carcass, making sure there was enough blood in the blade then stood tall. His mentor would appear before he knew it. She always did.

[flammos200]

Theleniel hummed on her walk to the altar, trying to calm herself. She wanted to break into a sprint and dart forth, but she forced herself to keep a steady pace.

Slowly, the Demon Hunter came to the skull-surrounded altar and looked from Ceredor to the slain demon. "Wise choice. Striking like a serpent.." she exhaled. "Come, sit." she patted the altar. "It's no bed of roses, but it'll serve you well for a week. You won't even notice." she smirked slightly, making for her pupil and taking the knife from him.

"Now, take your shirt off." she said and, after Ceredor would do so, and take a seat on the stone rise of the altar, she'd slowly bring the knife to the back of the Kaldorei. "We're starting with the back because it's easiest to bear. The skin on your ribs is the most thin there is, so we'll do that last, as it'll bring you the greatest amount of pain. I should know. Try not to start crying on me, hm?" she mused as she started carving the fist hints of the Rage pattern on the Night Elf's back.

If Ceredor bore the pain well, she'd move on to his shoulders and upper arms, before filling his chest and belly with the last remains of the green Rage pattern.

After all would be said and done, provided there were no interruptions, she'd speak. "Now, you'll start feeling it overcome you... As its soul and blood seep and mingle with your own, you'll lose consciousness. Lie down while you still are able to. I think we've less than a minute before you start your dream. Good luck, Ceredor..."

[Piken]

Ceredor looked at his mentor, panting from the recently ended fight and nodded at her orders. He went to the altar, removing his leather tunic and the shirt underneath, placing them at the side of the altar then turned his back to Theleniel. "You really know how to woo someone.. It puts a bed of roses to shame." He snickered, then hissed lightly as she began at his back.. And that was just the start of it all.

The Kaldorei refused to let out any type of sound of weakness. He struggled to keep a straight face as she carved the tattoo into his flesh, going all over his upper body. It was excruciating, especially when it got to the ribs. It definitely was the worst part. He was already starting to feel the effects of the demon's blood seeping into his body, his head hurting, his body's heat rising. He rushed as much as he could to the altar and laid down on it. His body was already becoming weak and within the next sixty seconds, his eyes were closed, his body shutting down.

Ceredor heard a voice in his head. A deep, dark voice.. It came from nowhere and everywhere. It echoed in his mind, taunting him. It seemed to know everything about him. All of his strengths.. and all of his weaknesses. It was a torturous experience.. It delved deep into his mind and soul. It felt as if his entire existence was being stabbed at over and over and the pain was just beginning.

He had been in his comatose state for a few hours and already he was feeling as if his mind was being torn apart. The week was just beginning..

[Piken]

The fever had gotten worse. His body was withering, struggling. It was a painful experience both inside and out. The demonic blood in his body was wracking through him. It had been a couple of days now and his mind was resisting the torture it was going through..

The demon was definitely strong and definitely stubborn. It was a battle of wills.. Ceredor was tortured with the whispers of the Demon taking control of him, slaughtering his teacher, and then moving on to his family and setting fire to his homeland. It fed on his fears and doubts.

"You will not survive this, weakling elf," It said so arrogantly, "your abilities are nothing. All that you done is all in vain. Once I control your body, I will destroy everything you have ever loved."

Ceredor was taunted.. angered.. But he couldn't let the beast get the better of him. It sensed it. The rage inside of him growing with every taunt and threat. But no.. He would not give in. He struggled against it, attempting to block it out of his mind.. And for the first couple of days, the demon seemed to be going easy on him, as he could block it out without too much trouble. But entering day three.. It was not enough anymore. No, after this day.. it would never be enough..

[flammos200]

Theleniel sat on the altar next to Ceredor's comatose shell. She slipped her warglaives off her back and ground the edges diagonally, the Azsharite being much too strong to actually take damage from such, and instead just emitting contact sparks, as the Demon Hunter hummed quietly to herself.

The days and nights were spent with little sleep, mostly ensuring that Ceredor wouldn't come under external assault. The moments of rest were spent using the Kaldorei like a pillow - until the Fel of the First Binding seeped into her student to such an extent that he started glowing brightly to her sight.

Still, her vigil continued.

[Piken]

There were times that if one were to gaze upon Ceredor in this state, they would simply think he was taking a nap, sleeping quite soundly. But inside the depths of this Elf's mind, there was constant strife. It was a battle, sometimes literally, between himself and the demon.

In a plane of nothingness, the sound of weapons clashing echoed out into the eternal space. Ceredor and the demonic Felguard were locked in a devastating battle with one-another. There was no end to it, and in his own mind, he could not grow tired. Or so he thought.. He was the one who initiated such a plane of existence in his mind. Somewhere where he thought he could be on a more 'even' level with the demon.. but he was wrong. Where he would grow weak from 'fatigue', the demon thrived. But, even throughout the combat, he had to remain calm. Strike like a serpent, he thought.. He was facing prey. Nothing more. It did not deserve a response to its petty attempts at taunts and jabs.

His mind grew weary.. He did his best during the voyage to prepare himself for this but.. nothing could have ever prepared him for such a thing. It was worse than any type of torture he could even try to imagine. He would never want to put another living thing through this.. But he was willing to for his people. And that was the only thing that kept him going against the constant onslaught of attacks on his very being.

Though in his mind, it had felt like an eternity had passed.. It was the fifth day passing now. Two days to go.. And they would be the longest, worst days of his life.

[Piken]

It was the sixth day.. And every second felt like another eternity starting from a painful birth to an agonizing death. It was every type of embodiment of hell he could have ever even attempted to comprehend.

He relived every day of his life.. And was forced to watch slow deaths of all of his loved ones, in millions upon millions of different scenarios. He was forced to watch the torture and raping of his mother on the battlefield as the forests burned around her.. His father's forges and tools used as weapons for his slow, drawn out demise. Anyone that he had ever came in contact with was killed again and again in hundreds upon hundreds of different ways. He felt himself being consumed by the demon's essence.. But then his eyes widened(figuratively). Instead of suffering through the demon's tortures, he decided to put his own spin on the visions and images.. and he was finally able to gain an edge on the demon. An edge he needed desperately. And now, he was able to fight back.

It was late in the afternoon of the sixth day.. when suddenly his eyes burst open, sitting up, gasping for air. His body was sickly and worn.. But he looked over himself.. He was in control of his own body. And with a weak sigh he said softly, "Trial complete.."