~*~A Beginning in the End~*~

[Persephone]

Tendrils of chill reached out into the blackest of nights, grasping
with their tiny claw like fingers as if to find solace in the pains of
another. That other being Persephone D'dary, childe of Andre, Daughter of Deth, former wife of Koz O'Callahan, sister of many.

They'd fought, oh yes they'd fought, but they'd fought before. She had thought things were going to work out like they always did, she had thought things would be ok. But tonight was different. She could feel a coldness in him, around him, she'd been asleep so long it seemed. She'd somehow missed this happening. She'd somehow missed how the two were growing apart. Sleep was known to do things, and this was an unfortunate side effect apparently from her sleep.

She hadn't spoken with anyone really, save for the war conferences
where her sire had awoken her with the command to succour to him then to strike out with Holy Water or Garlic Spray against those who had struck her and her brethren of the D'dary House. A regrettable
conclusion to a regrettable situation. The thing was she had messed
up. Big time. She knew this, and she'd offered everything she could to make it better. Her honesty had gotten the better of her perhaps, and had been her ruin. Then again this was often the case for one Persephone D'dary.

It seemed her honest nature was the key to her fall. Mores the pity
really. She loved Koz, there was no denying it. She had made her
choice to remain faithful to him though other choices had presented
themselves on numerous occasions. It seemed however to Persephone D'dary that fates had another role in mind for her. The very thing which had begun the argument that had in effect ended their marriage was the very thing she would turn to for solace. To attempt to find herself, although it did seem every time she visited the Shadow Realm over which she was Mistress she lost a little bit more of herself. A little more of what was Persephone became shadow, and a little more of those shadows became her mind. Then again truth be told it was all in her mind after all wasn't it? The very realm was an extension of her psyche. Perhaps this is why parents teach their children not to mess with magic, after all who wants a daughter who has created a shard of her soul that haunts her dreams. One that torments her waking hours. One that leaves her no rest. Though this realm had taken a shape of its own, time there ran upon its own clocks. The beings there thought for themselves.

Her words spoken in haste, his coldness tearing into her, all these
things had contributed to the broken marriage, the broken binding that would no more stand the test of time. No matter what one says of love, in the end it cannot conquer all. Then again perhaps it could, but that my dear friends is another story, for another eve, for another time.

She'd asked thrice if being set free from her was what he truly
wanted, and he'd given her the affirmative and so she had done as she felt he wished. She would no longer be his "ball and chain". She would no longer feel the warm comfort of his arms around her, his hand upon her hip, fitting within one another as if they were created for no other purpose. No, instead now all she felt was cold. Biting, caustic, numbing cold. Only this cold held pain beyond the numbing. Her mind was numb to the well wishes, her heart instead was throbbing with intense pain. It had done so since the words had been uttered, since the dagger which had bound them was cast upon her once more as she severed the bond between she and Koz.

Your link to your partner, Koz, has been severed. Thank you.

The words still echoed in her mind, as did the cold rush as she felt
him throw the ring back at her. The ring she'd bought him to give him
on their anniversary. The ring she had held with her waiting for the
right moment since it had become available. Her token of love for him. Rejected. It was a curious feeling for Persephone D'dary really, the feeling of rejection. She had turned no few number away. Rejected them with no further ado, simply waving them off with her hand dismissively. She was unused to this feeling, though continued onward. Her mind set upon returning to the Realm of her creation.

Missives were sent to Deth, her Father and they discussed words meant to be between father and daughter alone.

She asked a few friends to watch over Koz, to be there for him, then
she left them as well. Andre's reply came to her mind "I'm sorry" causing laughter to escape her lips. He hadn't ruined her marriage. He hadn't been the cause. No, although it was no secret she had change since his siring of her. Yes she had, and as with all change one never returns to the same state in which they once resided. Instead they were born anew with each change.

His words of counsel still rang in her ears "Mistakes are lessons. It
is through making mistakes that we learn more about ourselves, about others and about the city we live in. I'm still not entirely convinced this was a mistake, though. I remember how happy he made you."

She informed him of her plans of returning to the realm and his reply
to that caused laughter to once more rise within. He'd threatened to
come there after her, if she didn't return. Little did he know she
didn't plan to return, or perhaps this small insight was on his part
and he knew she did not plan to return. Time would tell, and as we all know time is a jealous mistress unwilling to share her secrets or cast her pearls before swine. "I know full well that nothing I can say will stop you going, but you better be coming back. Or I'm coming in there after you, and I'm sure the pansy that runs the place won't like that one bit."

"You don't know HIM Andre, or HER for that matter. You've seen it even through a shroud of blood, you've seen the place. It doesn't take kindly to intrusion." She retorted back, uncaring if she was rude.

"And I don't take kindly to entities laying claim to my childer.
Besides... You've yet to see my inner demons." His reply left her
chuckling at the irony. Really, she wondered, did he really understand what the realm was? What HE was? What SHE was? Time would tell, she supposed.

Next she called to her sisters, and Annabelle, leaving each a short
letter giving a basic outline of the situation so each were aware as
she knew Andre would wish. Lastly she turned to the head of the
family, Sartori D'dary himself. Andre had requested she bid him
farewell. Though what did she really have to say to such a man? One
she had considered enemy for so long. What could she say? And more importantly, to her at least, would he even care?

A soft, yet solid rap strikes his door, the door before her shielding
his form from her view. Or rather perhaps it was her form from his,
she knew not what to say, save her sire had requested it and she would not disappoint him. "Sartori?" Her voice firm, yet infirm filled with the myriadical notes of edging insanity threatening to overcome.

Raising his attention from the book before him, he glances to the
door, "C'mon in?" Nimble yet chilled fingers turn the knob before her, hesitation evident yet her eyes remained stalwart as they fell upon the head of the bloodline. "I'm going away, for a time, I don't know when I will return nor if I shall in truth. Though Andre seems to think otherwise. He requested I speak with you before my departure, and out of my respect for him I have come to do so."

He nods slowly "I see... so you don't know if you even will be back at
all..? When will you be going?"

She steps into the room, her eyes falling over it and the book he
held. "Indeed, I will be leaving as soon as I depart here actually.
Rosette will be available to deal with any business you would have of me." She knew the time drew short, and would not wait on another's bidding. Instead she turned about leaving a note with how to contact Rosette should she be needed.

[Persephone]

Yes, indeed all was in order. She mentally checked off each of those
she need inform of her departure and the few items of unresolved
business she had not time to attend to. Ever faithful and reliable
Rosette would finish those things. There were few persephone would
trust to take care of her business, yet she didn't even blink an eye
lash at Rosette being left to care for her dealings. Rosette was far
more than capable, even for her youthful appearance.

Word had reached her that Boomer had begun to call her mad, to say she
was seeing things. Perhaps she was, no to be truthful she was seeing
things, although these things were there. The things persephone saw
others had borne their own witness to as well, and their effects had
been well documented by those members of her family who had observed
her over the years. MsErrie had awoken her from that place, master219
had ventured there in his own dreams, and Alex...her beloved Alexander
Wolfe he had traveled to this place as well. Part of him even resided
there, just as part of her did so. They resided entwined with one
another, eternally together.

As these thoughts pressed through her mind, ideas of betrayals cut
through the quick of her heart. So many friends, family, allies,
turned against her. Those she would have died for, time and time again
turning against her when she had for once been innocent. Truly she
supposed after all the things she had done in the past, she did
deserve what she had gotten. None, save one knew of all her crimes,
and she knew he would never tell. He loved her, if such a thing were
possible, and this bond between them, unbreakable and time tested, was
something she held onto with all her heart cherishing it.

The time had passed, and she, she need be on her journey if one could
call it such. The simple textual reading from a scroll of
teleportation finds persephone at the outer portal to her own crypt.
She raised her wrist beneath the fang of one of the gargoyles that
guarded the outside entrance. A wince wrinkles her brow as she feels
the pricking bite upon her wrist, allowing her blood to disarm the
traps she had set during her previous slumbers. It would be safe from
assassination attempts made upon her person while her body remained
unmoving within her crypt.

The doors swing open greeting her with another set of doors these kept
by a retinal scanner, which she brings to her eye. A red light passes
across the excess dancing on the walls as the doors behind her swing
closed, and the secondary gates open. Traversing the black and white
marble floorings she finally reaches the main room, through a stone
archway. The room sported a vaulted dome ceiling ornately decorated in
the Old World style. It held centuries of knowledge in it's designs
and one could get lost looking at it. The center of the circular room
held her alter, and at exact intervals creating two equilateral
triangles were stone archways and torches. The effect forming an
aerial view of a the greater Seal of Solomon, or better yet the Second
Seal of Jupiter, though perhaps better known as the Star of David. The
symbolism itself marked upon the architectural designs of the room in
turn alluding to the purpose she used it for, to gain greater
knowledge than one previously possessed, to find hidden secret
treasures within oneself.

A soft sigh passed her lips as she lowered herself upon the stone
alter. It had once contained a sealed coffin but she had found the
alter far more suiting as her time had come evolving as she had into
the last of the line of Oracles. As her head was placed down, upon the
cold marble her thoughts turned to Koz, then to Alex and Andre in
turn, before her eyes sealed her into the darkness that would allow
her to return to the Real of Shadows.

[Persephone]

No sooner than Persephone had closed her eyes, submitting her will to
the darkness that would consume her, than she heard chanting, or
perhaps it was a spell. One could hardly tell the difference all truth
be told, not when spells had been cast from their own lips such as she
herself would have done upon many an occasion. She was however, even
in this resigned state still the last of the line of Oracles. Such was
not something she entirely was glad of, instead she longed nay yearned
that there had been another worthy to bestow the dark gift she
possessed upon. Sadly there had not been one, indeed none had
completed their tutelage and it seemed she would forever be the last
of the line of Oracles that had arisen from Lord Lucius.

"Open the portals between those who walk between life and
death and let the spirit of Hypnos dwell within them. Break the block
that sheild them from their dreams and let them see again what has
been denied them since their change."

Even as the words would echo upon the air, causing ripples of magic to
flow over her, still so sensitive to such proceedings. "Tibi, magnum
Innominandum, signa stellarum nigrarum et bufaniformis Sadoquae
sigilim" What foolery was this! Her psyche cried out. What dark priest
would cast over the city, over the inhabitants thereof such a spell.
What fool would presume the chance of what effects this casting would
place upon those undead who were not ready to have such portals of the
mind opened unto them, to spill forth visions upon their already
broken haunted souls. Indeed, the idea was ingenious to place upon
ones enemies. She herself found a twinge of jealousy at the thought,
that she herself had not thought to do such a thing.

As her thoughts rambled she knew she was in that in between place. Her
realization came with sudden ferocity. Persephone D'dary did find
herself lost to control. Lost to the dreams that would come her way,
and fear did grip her heart. She knew what dreams haunted her psyche,
haunted that mind of shadows and stone. Haunted those visage eyes upon
which played the fire of the ancients wisdom, wrought upon her enemies
by her very fingers. Yet now, she was at their very own mercy. Yes,
she Persephone D'dary was left to face what may come, and come it may,
and come it did.

There he stood, that faceless man, he who preyed upon her living
dreams. The man accompanied by his own equal, though they both were
her creations in the beginning they had evolved into pure demons.
Hellions even perhaps. A scream erupted in her mind, her blood
scorched with a burning fire of both fear and betrayal. So strong the
fire those of her immediate blood would perhaps feel the burning
themselves, the panic within so unknown to her, the emotion raw and
unkempt.

There he stood, his eyes hidden save the dark holes they held in his
skull, covered by unkempt hair. Hands outstretched to her, blood
pooling to overflow upon the marble floors. His steps remained
unknown, yet she knew he came for her. As he had always done he came
to her, met with his companion. These two demons had always revealed
themselves to her before HIS presence was to be known. The two drew to
stand before her, then the laughter. Oh the laughter, she had known
none such to be likened unto it. Such hellions! Such hellacious glory
she ne'er had known to herself. It caused her very core to quake, the
pitch high above that which the ear should hear, the rapidly
increasing attacks upon the air in which she stood shaking the very
core of her being, so as to cause her hands to tear at her ears to
save her mind the intruding effects.

A scream escaped her own lungs, even so far as to echo throughout the
hall she called her crypt, her body wretching upon that stone alter
upon which she slumbered. Horror, abstract horror did push itself upon
her. Indeed it did cause her mind to quake as it were. Nails bit
unnaturally into the stone alter, her very fingers caused to bleed
from the pressure placed upon them into the stone surface. Sweat of
blood poured upon her flesh, staining her ivory skin with its crimson
trail, that perhaps she too would be marked by the beast. It was then
that they came upon her, encircled her about, as the darkness, deeper
than any night she had known descended upon her, enveloping in its
morbid embrace. Yet in the darkness she knew she had crossed into the
next world, the next realm. The Realm of Shadows welcomed her once
more into its iced grasp. The dream was over, yet the nightmare was
only now to begin.

[Persephone]

Her eyes they did fly open as she felt the chill wind press upon her
exposed skin, the loose tendrils of her hair whipping at her cheeks.
The view which was seen before her, something of a wonder in its own
right. Yes, she found herself to lay upon a stone surface,
overshadowed by the flowered leaves of the weeping cherry, its velvety
petals stroking her in the wind. Sitting up she took in the sight, and
what a sight it was. Indeed she had found herself to have arrived in
the gardens, dangerous in their own right they too held a peace found
little elsewhere in this forsaken realm.

With that she rose to her feet, muscles contracting as she once more
allowed herself to grow accustom to the atmosphere here. The air was
at it were thicker perhaps here, the density that of an approaching
storm gathering in the air around her, yet a stirring. She sensed a
stirring, which would draw her eyes, and her steps. Nearer the
swirling mass of colors she carried herself. It seemed each step would
change the color of the mass, causing her to canter her head to the
side in closer examination.

One may ask what she saw, but that would be to miss the point entirely
perhaps. You see Persephone D'dary was not a simple woman, nor was she
overtly complex rather she knew what she knew, and she trusted her
gifts of discernment. What she saw was a cloud of butterflies. Simple
creatures yet they were what had in part played a large factor in how
she had come to hold Andre as the dear beloved friend he was, to hold
him as family as it were, even as sire.

She reached forth her hand as one such creature, black as night, left
the clouded mass to approach her. It's eyes, they were black yet as
the light fell upon them they did shine crimson and she felt to wonder
if her own were not to change the same way. The butterfly was the soul
of the dead, they would exist to watch over their beloved ones and
assist where such was deemed appropriate. Just as Andre had watched
over her, just as she knew Deth still did, as she had done for both.

The small black creature did take its rest upon the proferred pedastal
of her finger, turning its delicate wings before her as the mass began
to take a shape, the shape of HIM. This in turn gave her cause to step
back as his voice was heard. "Welcome home Persephone."

[Persephone]

"Welcome home? This is not my home." she spat the words at the being
she had so come to despise yet love all the same. Theirs was a complex
relationship, she knew of his devotion to her and she used it. Yes,
she would call to HIM, ask HIS assistance in matters and then in turn
would turn away rather than embrace HIM. HE had HER, and persephone
had been spared by Alex's sacrifice for her. He had paid an ultimate
price, one which had cost him far more perhaps than either of the two
had anticipated. "This however" she continued her voice firm, and
unyielding "is my Realm, and you are my servant and it would be good
of you to remember your place sir."

HIS laughter began to echo through the valley, this valley which held
within it the gardens she had called her own when she had dwelt in
this place. She resisted the urge to shrink back, HIS power was
menacing yes, but she knew she couldn't let HIM realize she still in
part feared it. "You come waltzing back here, and are brought with a
warm welcome only to start making demands like you own this place!
When will you learn Persephone, this place is no longer yours. This
place has grown beyond you. You deserted us, and you lost that
privilege many moons ago. It's about time you started to show respect
where it is deserved I think." With the ending of HIS words she
observed a waving of HIS hands, no doubt conjuring something, which
indeed HE had done. Before him she saw summoned Rosette, causing her
eyes to widen in fear for the girls welfare, and worry. How had she
ended up here. She was left to care for Persephone's dealings in the
City. As these thoughts danced within her mind HE took hold of the
girl, wrapping those vicious fingers around the young womans neck.

It began to swell within her, a pit of nausea in her stomach quickly
turning to a scream in her throat, which expelled itself across those
perfectly shaped lips. A scream of horror, a bloody deranged horror,
would pass those lips as she saw within his grasp Rosette. Not the
innocent child, not she who had done no wrong. persephone could see
the young maidens eyes widening in horror as she felt HIS grasp
tighten around her neck. The girl was suffocating, and persephone knew
it, HE knew it, and there was nothing within her power she could do to
stop it.

Flinging herself at HIM she struck fist after fist at his form only to
realize her hands flew through the butterflies, scattering them in the
air only for them to retake their shape. This too was only an
illusion, a waking dream as she was so apt to have these nights. HIS
laughter ringing out, only to be replaced by HIS words. "Have you
learned your place yet, love? Have you seen this place is now my own?"

Her eyes turned up at his liquid form, the fluttering of the
butterflies wings apparent now to her weary eyes. It seemed she had
jumped from the kettle straight into the fire as it were. Movement
caught her eye, and stole from HIM her attention. Yes, the single
butterfly which had so sought her out in the beginning had begun to
separate itself from the crowded mass, instead moving along behind
them, an act which she would then decide to follow. Bracing herself
she closed her eyes, and walked straightways through HIS form. What
did she find there, nothing more than a stream. A simple stream,
weaving and ebbing through the path, a path which she knew not to have
been there previously. Indeed it had not been, this path or water was
in itself formed by a fissure, an earthquake of sorts, which had
occurred when she had found herself removed from the halls of the clan
of which she had attained ownership. Few knew the true secret to the
realm was indeed its link to persephone's mind. Yes, what happened to
her mental state was reflected in turn upon the realm. Perhaps this
was why she sought solace in this place, turning in upon herself as it
were only to find in others the strength she needed to find within her
own self.

[Persephone]

And HE watched. Yes, content to sit in HIS overstuffed leather chair
beside the burning hearth, HE watched her as she would interact with
the creatures sent by HIS own hand to welcome her. What a pitiful
thing she truly was, so ungrateful. HE hadn't needed to send her such
a pleasant welcoming party, indeed the two creatures that had so
plagued her dream had volunteered to greet her themselves, but no HE
had other plans. Yes, HE had chosen to play upon her memories this
time. For it was said that the butterfly was the soul of those who had
passed on to the next life, here to watch over those who were still
cursed to walk this land in life, or in her case unlife.

HE had taken care to see to her needs, such meticulous care as HE had
always taken when concerning this woman. She was HIS creator afterall,
not only the creator of HIS own being, but the creator of this place
in which he resided. Indeed, that was the secret of the realm when all
was done and every tale told. Persephone had created this little
manifestation of her own psyche, displayed for all those who she would
allow entrance to view. For to know the realm was to know her mind,
her inner-workings to such an intimate value that the doors themselves
were garded with more valour than the doors to her soul. The Realm was
a literal looking glass into the mind of one Persephone D'dary.

The glass held within HIS fingers was swirled with expert caution,
yeilding to the temptation of the spirit to watch the small ripples
circlulate along the walls of the goblet in which the wine was held.
Eyes turned up as the drink was brought once more to firm lips. Not
soft of supple as one might expect, but rather firm and thin. Perhaps
barely more than a simple line with which to part to partake of
substance. Though in his sharp unforgiving features there held a
defiance of its very own unmistakable beauty.

It was in that moment when HIS eyes were cast downward upon the silent
grace that was Persephone, that he noticed himself once more drawn in.
Yes, as she had pushed through to the stream, a stream which had been
found in that place previously naught, HE found himself to be drawn to
her. HE could almost taste the sharp defiance of her tongue, feel that
cool whip of her words upon his chill flesh. Yes he lusted after such
order himself, though HIS needs were more than satisfied by SHE whom
Alexander Wolfe, the man who had dared to defy HIS power, had created
and given in trade for Persephone's peace of mind and welfare. Little
had the boy realized Persephone was naught without this place, to
destroy it was to destroy her, and we wouldn't wish for that now would we?

HE watched as she began to follow this rift in the path. Only then, as
HIS eye had been following her, did HE noticed the small black fleck
that had followed her. What was this creature doing? HE wondered, with
little more than idle curiousity. It was not as if these creatures
contained no mind of their own making, simply HE had not expected this
particular to alter its path from the others. HE would keep an eye
upon its workings, until that time little did HE concern himself.

There she was looking out into a vast expanse of a darkened corridor
born from rock. This cavern held no sound save for the rush of cool
water, and the echo of her steps. Her mind was taken back to the hall
of illusions. Yes perhaps this was where she had found herself, at
another entrance. Pulling her jacket tighter around her lean frame,
persephone would venture forward, entering the darkness, the darkness
that perhaps might cause even she, the last of the line of Oracles, to
become lost within her own mind.

[Persephone]

It has been said, upon many an occasion that throughout the whole vast
shadowy world of ghosts and demons there is no figure so terrible, so
dreaded and abhorred, yet endowed with such fearful fascination as the
vampire; who is himself neither ghost nor demon but who partakes of
the dark natures, and possesses the mysterious and terrible qualities
of both. Persephone herself, she would deny this charge, even so much
to say that those who were blessed to curse the day and live by night
were not so dreadful as the demons which did haunt them. Demons with
strength, strength beyond what even the most well versed of her kind
could muster, yea even fathom. These, were the monsters that did haunt
her.

Strength, strength as a term often so loosely used was in this type
the forerunner of many things to come. persephone had been known to
withstand many a trial and tribulation, some far beyond the
comprehension of those who she knew intimately as Oracle. Yet all
these things which she did pass though, they did shape her. They would
shape her into the woman, the vampiress, the mistress of shadows that
she indeed was. Yet, mistress she was of the realm, slave she was as
well to be sure. For persephone Deth D'dary was no stranger to the
whims of beings with more influence than she, though such was a grand
feat after so many years she had been in the city called Ravenblack.

Her eyes they did fall once more upon the small stream. So harmless, s
hapless it seemed there upon the jagged ground. Though in all its
innocence of appearance, something from within seemed to cry out in
horror to her minds eye. The fissure as she followed it, followed
herself by her new onyx winged companion the butterfly, began to widen
into a stronger fracture of the ground. It soon went from merely
inches in width to feet, to yards. Following it blindly as she had
seemed to have done she paused taking it in once more, unsure where in
the realm she had found herself to be lead by its sirens call.

The river then began to take form in her mind. She should have
anticipated it, but it was only then that her mind began to take shape
of her surroundings. She knew this place, yet from a dream almost.
This place was beyond the mouth of the rivers, even the great rivers
which she had resurfaced from leading her beloved Ferrymen from within
their depths, only to be in turn betrayed by those she had loved and
fought so hard for. This was the River which had claimed her now, no
longer the river of fire. Now she was claimed by the Acheron, the
river of woe. Tears would well within her eyes, plaguing her vision
with their watery depths but none would pass the damn of her lids.
Nay, not a tear would pass from her eyes over them, for she had
already shed any tears left to fall.

Looking into the depths of the river before her person she saw the
faces of those she loved in torment. Her eyes first fell upon the
vision of ladypeacek, strangled by her lies, surrounded by serpents
whom she knew to be Rykoth and Gypsychild. Venom, black in colour was
seen to pass from their lips upon her pale skin, filling her veins
with its poison. Beside her was Kaio, entwined with Alexander Wolfe
swords placed to one another's necks in deaths grip. Next she saw
Deth, his silence foreboding as his form was found to be frozen within
a block of ice. Then her many sisters,each filling a garden of
statues, horror upon their faces as grotesque creatures would pass
their demonic fingers over their forms. Then her sire, Andre, he lay
still upon that stone alter which he was oft found to have slept. Save
this alter was that of black marble, red veins of blood from his body
flowing throughout its tablet onto the floor and spreading into the
rivers below him, to water the forested floor upon which the stone
edifice would rest.

It was with these images in her head that she did reach forward, to
grasp those visions before her, only to find her footing loosened, a
push against her shoulders removing her balance as she too cascaded
into the river.

[Persephone]

Cold. Freezing cold washed over her, draining her chill body of any
heat it may have had. Her bones seemed to be straining with the cold
as it consumed her. A scream swelled within her throat, only to
realize no air inhabited her lungs, instead it echoed through her
mind. Piercing her consciousness, or rather subconscious, perhaps even
so those who held blood ties to her would feel it echo in their own
blood, their own minds. This could not be the end, she could not end
like this. Her lips parted, forced apart by the body's will to survive
only to have her mouth filled with vile waters of salt. The very tears
shed in woe, that which had caused this river of lamentations to exist.

She could feel the salt ripping at her flesh as it washed over her,
burning within the wounds she had not thought possible. It was as if
every vial of Holy Water ever elixir of Garlic Spray which had been
cast upon her now burned over her skin. She could feel the bugs,
creepy crawling creatures running over her body causing her to attempt
to remove them. Her nails began to claw over her flesh, digging into
it in a frenzied haste, removing chunk after chunk of ruined flesh
which were then cast into the river.

It was then as she began to mutilate the very body of her own, her
eyes flew open to reveal only blackness. A touch was felt, her hair
being pulled. She could feel herself being dragged out of the water by
her hair, by some unseen force. Little did she know the very darkness
which consumed her sight would prove to be her saving grace. Perhaps
her time in the Ferrymen was not so ill spent.

"You sure don't seem to do things halfway, now do you Ms. Persephone.
You dreamers, oracles, you're all the same. Had to go and make it hard
for old Charon to find ya and bring you aboard for the ride, didn't
ya? You do have your coins for passage correct?" His voice, rural it
seemed to her, even aged perhaps, rose above the screams within the
confines of her mind. Fingers of bone merely covered by the flesh of
withered skin were felt upon her eyes lids, and the darkness was
removed from her as sight was reserved. "Ahh, good ol' gal you are.
Had them right here for me. Easy access and all. Seems the work of
this here ferrymen will be a touch lighter this eve."

She simply stared at him in wonder, not quite awe, perhaps even
thankfulness for his removing her from her sure watery grave. "HE'd
really outdone himself this time." She mused as her head shook gently.
It seemed she was headed to Hades, her own personal Hell.

"What?" he asked incredulously "You mean you, the last of the line of
Oracles, didn't see this coming?" His voice held amusement, perhaps
even mockery of her and she simply stared, unable to bring any words
to her lips, her butchered limbs already beginning to heal themselves
over.

[Persephone]

Pure, unadulterated pain wracked through persephone's body as the
fibers began to weave themselves back into place. Her eyes pressed
closed, as she pulled her body in against itself, her knees resting
below her forehead. Had she seen this coming? The answer was simple,
no. She saw very little of her own path, it was the trade-off for
being the Oracle she was. To be a true Oracle, was to serve. It was no
service to others to see ones own path, it was selfish and the path of
the Oracle was anything but. The path of the true Oracle was one of
selfless service, consistently giving of oneself for the betterment
and aide of their fellow beings. Such is the life.

A barely audible sigh passed her swollen lips as she shook her head
slowly. "No sir...but I do remember you...you are Charon, are you not?
Charon the Ferryman of Hades." A smile warped his old leathered face,
as a smile missing more than a few teeth exposed itself once more to
her sight.

"Indeed I am childe. Now tell me, who are you?" His words were clearly
a play of terms. Although, of this fact persephone was unaware
especially in the state she existed in at this moment. Instead she
gave him the clear answer she gave any who asked such of her.

"I am persephone, Childe to Andre, eternal daughter of Deth, sister to
many, and siress to some. I am the Oracle, the last of my line." For
she had not passed on the keys to another in her time in the Ferrymen.
Nor had another been given the keys by the former Oracles before their
own departures. She would still ever recognize Cerridwen and Lady Sen
as her mentors in adjusting to the use of her gifts, even if in the
end their ideals did not work well with one another.

She watched as the man shook his head, laughing lowly to himself, as
his hands dutifully stroked the river of lost souls. Occasionally
persephone would see the face of one such soul rise, as if to grasp
the boat and escape its water grave only to be pushed back down by the
Ferrymen's oar. "No childe. I asked who you are, not what you've done,
not who you are related to or who you claim. I asked who you are. It
seems you've still a few lessons to learn. And learn them you shall."
A wink of his eye and she felt a heavy blackness settle over her
being. Well not really settle, more of a -your face hitting a solid
marble wall running at full speed- kind of feeling.

In the darkness she could see those whom she had named. Andre, though
he seemed to be in a field of flowers? A meadow perhaps? She could see
the sun coming from beyond the horizon's edge. She could see the moon
waning, it's light drawing near the last threads of existence. Then
the scene began to swim in her mind, swirl as if in a whirlpool, a
whirling that caused her stomach feel as if to falter had she ingested
any form of nourishment beyond blood which was readily absorbed by her
body's tissues. She saw Gekkani, her childe, of any Gekkani was her
daughter. Gekkani seemed to be running after Andre, followed by
Rosette. Each appeared as if to be screaming for him, calling out to
him of danger. Warning him of what was to come. Then she saw his face,
beyond his shadowed form. Yet it was not the face of her Sire that she
saw, nay. Indeed it was her own eyes upon his face, her own lips to
the placing of his own. Although the mirrored reflection startled her,
she knew it too was a sign of that which was to come.

[Persephone]

Small glimpses of light made their way through the closed lids of her
eyes, highlighting the red veins that scrawled beneath ivory skin. She
could feel something moist pressed against the side of her head. Her
hand rose to the dull aching as her eyes fluttered open once more. A
sharp beam of light struck her eyes, causing her to turn away from the
light. Her fingers slipped through matted locks, relief washing over
her as the knowledge came into her mind that she was not injured. But
where was she? Sitting up her eyes moved over the scene around her
once more. It seemed Charon had had enough of her company and her
journey with the old man had ceased.

Her eyes then fell upon a great gate, the likes of which she had never
before seen. It seemed to be made of precious metals, forged into the
shape of reapers reaching upwards their visceral grip seeking the
children who were above them. Men and woman, their forms twisted in
nude splendor were pulled between the reapers and winged angels. The
wings caused a soft sigh to pass from persephone's lips. It had been
so long since she had stretched her own, yet in truth she was unsure
time would pass in which she would ever find it within herself to
reclaim the flight which had been her gift, instead she ventured to
peer into the future, forward rather than to aspire to greater heights.
The inscription upon the keystone of the grand archway upon which hung
the great gate read as follows, a phrase well known even to the
simplest of mankind.

"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate" That is to say, Abandon all
hope ye who would enter here. Such a fitting phrase, hope in this
place seemed listless. There was no breeze, no scent upon the air. The
very thoughts passing through her mind seemed useless as no emotion
was felt within them. Bland, tasteless, formless it seemed. To live on
without purpose, with some form of progression. She knew this feeling
from many a moment in her time of existence. The ceasing of
progression was not unfamiliar to persephone in the slightest.

Slender fingers, those that would belong upon the hand of a musician
as such she was, felt drawn to the doors of the grand gateway.
Brushing over the images she could feel heat, the first sensation that
truly held form since she had awoken, and she clung to it. So much did
she embrace it as to press her body against it. It was in this moment,
when she could feel the metals embracing her as if to take her into
their enveloping embrace and call her their own for perhaps the rest
of eternity, her eyes fell upon a familiar sight. The sight being the
petite young woman, her age barely having reached maturity if even
having progressed that far. Bright brown orbs reflected the onyx of
her own, causing persephone to throw herself away from the doors in
shock. Surely she did not appear as such, could it be so the windows
to her own soul would reflect such unfeeling darkness? The woman was
surely her sire's childe, Idony. Nails would wretch upon the metal,
slipping away empty from purpose. She wanted to pull the girl away
from the grasp of either angel or devil, yet as with all in this place
this too seemed futile. Hope soon began to fleet from her, just as the
doors would say. And this lack of hope she reasoned left no options
but to enter the doors.

Such doors they were, captive to the hounds of Hell. The gate clasp
felt swollen in her hand as she turned her grip upon it, to turn with
such little force she knew not when they had opened. The darkness
before her drew her in, so much like the darkness she had seen
reflected from her own eyes. Yes it drew her, drew her into its depths
one step at a time. One foot placed solidly before the other, as she
journeyed into the darkness.

[Persephone]

In the beginning it would have been said of persephone that she had
resisted the urges within her being to accept and embrace the darkness
that resided within. This however, was no longer so and the journey
she would now take indeed in essence proved this truth. There was
however much difference between the persephone of yester years, and
the persephone of now, the woman who had embraced the darkened madness
within her shattering soul. With each loss she had suffered persephone
had further sought to fill the empty voids with a shadow of that which
had formerly occupied that place in her heart, until now she had
resisted the pressure to fully allow the darkness to sweep into the
very core chambers of her mind. She would no longer refuse now.

In the darkness there arose a pool of blackened water, upon the water
resided a blackened flame. The very flames which she had seen arise
within her eyes when she had partaken of the blood of the ancients,
fully embracing her place as the Last of the Line of Oracles ordained
to the city of Ravenblack. Unsteady steps carried her to the edge of
the pool, where she soon collapsed beside. Lithe fingers began to
dance upon the surface of the water, of their own will, drawing the
flames to dance over her flesh. She drew her hand away, now onyx orbs
watching in wonder and awe as the black flames began to take the shape
of black butterflies dancing over her exposed skin, though not burning
it as one might have expected. Instead it began to draw up and over
her arms as she separated her hands from one another.

Panic rose in her chest, seizing it as one might feel should they be
faced with Hell's fire, and they were of course mortal having not
given forfeit their soul to the darkness of immortality's sanguine
curse. The flames soon began to consume her wholly, spreading across
her skin like a wildfire, feasting upon the dry herbs of the prairies,
and she did what any logic soul would do, she began to descend into
the pool of water.

As her eyes were cast upon the pool the image of V-Rex filled her
mind's eye. He seemed to be watching, drawing unto himself the very
images which came before her own eyes. Was he spying upon her dreams?
She had heard the spell cast, felt the vibrations it had caused to
rise upon the city, yet she had continued on into her slumber as her
own nightmare faded into oblivion. What however was he doing? Was he
attempting to steal from the mind of the last Oracle the secrets she
held with her very life? Secrets which had been given unto her in the
strictest oath of confidences. Anger began to boil within her heart,
as the flames continued to lash against her flesh with its cracking
whips. As soon as she got away from this place, she would be paying
this vampire a visit. He had no business messing in the minds of
others, let alone the locked mind of an Oracle.