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[TechnoDemon]

She was gone.

She had left, quit the cult, renounced her throne. Suddenly. Without any warning. Just.....Left.

The Greater Demon stared at the note left sitting on the Throne of Bone, next to his own golden Skeletal Throne. The Cadre stood by their own wooden thrones on the floor below the dais, watching, waiting expectantly. Fearful.

He was known as the Benevolent Tyrant, but he did have a temper, and they had no way of knowing how he would react to her sudden departure from their ranks. A few of them edged away as he slowly turned to face them, and they fearfully eyed the Nightmare Cleaver that hung on the wall above his throne.

His sky-blue eyes-normally blazing with laughter and merriment-were dim, lustreless, almost lifeless. His wings sagged, his tail drooped and dragged across the flagstones behind him with a ringing chime, merry, completely at odds with his posture of total abject misery.

The cultmembers parted slowly as he passed through them, each one reaching out a hand to softly touch his broad slate-grey shoulder, murmuring words of support in passing.

He heard none of them, felt nothing. The aching hollowness in his chest was the only thing he knew.

She was gone.

His companion. His Empress. His one and only love.

Gone.

And she had taken his soul with her.

[TechnoDemon]

Her departure was sudden though her thought on it was not. Leaving had entered her mind more than once these past lonely nights, more frequently as time came on. She knew it was coming but her actual departure had been abrupt, surprising even her.

The actual leaving, it was even harder than she ever envisioned it to be. Tears filled her eyes as she moved from room to room, leaving her keys to the halls for the others to find. She moved to the throne room, removing her nightmare cleaver from the wall behind her throne. Slowly, she ran a hand over the gold then bone and turned.

Tears trickling down her cheeks, she slipped from the gates. A soft sigh escaped her, tears would not convince her to return. Hands moved to her face, wiping the tears away. She would not allow all of gothador to see her tears, see her sorrow.

She needed a change and while she had acted on emotion, rather then logical thought, when leaving, she would not change her mind. This was for the best, she told herself though she was doubting every word.

She was leaving her cult, her home, her friends and her bonded. She believed they would forgive her transgressions but would he? She had left her world for him, her friends and family for a demon and now she was leaving him. Would he forgive her? Could he? She hoped and doubted.

Each step, her heart broke a little more. Slow steps carried her off in the darkness where she could not be seen, could not be found.

She did not look back.

[TechnoDemon]

*CRASH*

The poles that held the tapestry against the back wall of the throneroom fell with a clatter, sparks flying from the flagstones where the metal bounced. The broad red cloth that had been against the wall settled heavily across the Skeletal throne and the Bone throne, both unoccupied for days, since Kayura had left.

TechnoDemon had been unapproachable all this time, locked in the chambers he had shared with his Empress, immediately behind the throneroom. The few who dared approach his door retreated quickly when their tentative knocks were met with a fusillade of heavy objects slamming against the door from within.

Judging by the impacts against the thronewall, either his aim had gone to shite, or he had become less discriminate.

The Horde held their collective breath when the sudden silence dropped on them. Maybe his temper had finally passed? Maybe they could get on with their lives? The Horde had much to do, in the wake of Kayuras departure. They were overdue to capture another Troglodyte, and had been waiting for him to lead them into the fray. There were mass runs to the exchanges to be made, and weaker members needed help in hunting, to boost their strength.

Alas, this was not to be.

A crack of thunder, and the Greater Demon was no longer in his quarters, but standing instead before his throne, slamming his steel wings together over and over, summoning all those in the citadel to assemble before him. When they entered, they were shocked to see him armed and armoured. TechnoDemon never wore kit inside the citadel, yet there he stood, in his Empyreal Plate, carrying not only his beloved Nightmare Cleaver, but indeed, all his weapons were in harness, from his Light Magi Staff to his Tarragon Disintegrator.

His steel horns shone, polished to a glossy reflection, tossing the torchlight from his head in a glimmering nimbus, almost like a halo. His metal wings clinked and rustled as he moved, mirrors upon mirrors, and the claws at the ends of the wing-fingers gouged trenches in the stone when they dipped too low. Even the spike at the end of his tail had been honed and sharpened to a skein-point, and it writhed and curled as though it had a deadly mind of its own.

Everything about their pacifist lord spoke of death and destruction, and it worried them.

"I am leaving," his baritone rumble sounded through the hall. A quick murmer ran through the cult. He wasn't going to abandon them, surely? To toss aside everything he had worked for since the day he awoke in this beknighted land?

"I am still your Tyrant, rest at ease," he said, seeing their worry. "But there is something that I must do. Something that supercedes all previous commitments and oaths. Something that will keep me from you for an unknown time. Until I return, Dawn is in charge. You will obey her as you would obey me." His eyes narrowed, scorching the room with his arctic-blue gaze. "Or I will deal with you on my return........"

Without another word, he strode forward, through the assemblage, heading for the courtyard, to enter the warpgate and begin his trek. The Horde stood where they were, not daring to approach even to say good-bye, but one had to seek him ere he left. One had to risk it.

In the end, it wasn't even a member of his cult who asked, but a friend, visiting from another realm. TechnoDemons best friend in all of Gothador, his mentor in an old life, an ally in this one. Puck appeared as if from nowhere-though human, he somehow still moved like the elf he had been in the past life-and stopped the Greater Demon with a single delicate hand against the broad armoured chest.

"My friend, my brother, thou knoweth thou canst hunt her down and kill her not. E'en an she doth deserve death for this-and will I say nor nay neither aye that she may-e'en so, doth she be of the Dark Elves, and therefore cloaked to thine senses. Any search will therefore be futile, e'en an search epic, as't seems thou hast prepared for."

The massive head tilted down, eyes of pure blue hellfire meeting forest-green orbs. The fanged visage leaned closer, lips parting, exposing row upon row of teeth to give nightmares to crocodiles.

"Puck, my friend, I seek not her death. Indeed, I wish her great and long and healthful life. No, what I do now is an search epic indeed. I seek the OmniLords, brother. I seek he of the dusty coat. He who designs our selves and our world. I seek he who is known as DocSooty."

Puck simply stared for a moment, awed at the audacity of his friend. Few indeed sought the OmniLords, for they were the creators of all of Gothador, and not to be trifled with, lest one found oneself trapped in the hell known as DiscoWorld. Almost fearfully, he started to ask, "Why, my brother, do you..."

"Because," TechnoDemon cut the small human off. "DocSooty is the only one in all of the realms, friend Puck, who can grant me the boon I seek now." He stepped into the warpgate, dropped the gold required to activate the spell, and thought of his destination. As the power of the gate flared, sending him to another realm, his voice drifted back to Puck, soft as a zephyr, almost as quiet. Puck had to strain, but he heard the words clearly enough.....

"I seek to sever my bond to Kayura."

[TechnoDemon]

Cultless.

Immediately changes were felt. No longer was there a warm place for her to retreat to during the long nights.

The Frozen North, never had it seemed so harsh, desolate. The cold seeped into her bones, when she did not retreat to the hot deserts of Varo. Night found her huddled among the branches of a tree, sleeping away from thieves and wandering beasts. Dawn came but no warmth in the sun’s rays.

Without purpose, she wandered, slaying beasts that she could and ignoring all else. And the cold settled into her, so absolute, a ‘vacation’ to the realm of Oceaneous could not shake the chill that rested in her bones.

She wandered then through Gothador where word reached her ears of news. News of cults, those she had not heard of and those known managed to find her. Invites where issued, appreciated but she did not act. And then she heard the first bit of news that mattered.

“He left days ago on some quest, without uttering a word of his goal,â€

[TechnoDemon]

The map-crude, drawn by hand with painstaking precision-was well-worn by now. Every square mile of every realm that he entered had been explored, marked, and thereafter ignored.

And yet, more than half of the map remained an empty white, untouched by ink.

The grey beast let out a massive sigh, folded the map, and restored it in his pouch. Slinging his Nightmare Cleaver between his wings, he took his staff in hand to use for a walking stick, and set out upon his way once more.

He hated walking. Flying and teleporting were so much more efficient. But then he would not truly know that he had searched. He might miss something from the air, some subtle clue as to the whereabouts of the entrance to the home of the OmniLords.

And he could not allow himself to fail.

She had left him. He had made her his queen, the co-ruler of his cult. Elevated her to a position equal to his own. Nay, even greater, for he had almost always bowed to her will in the running of their kingdom. But she had gone.

She must have known it would come to this. She must have! His heart was no secret to her, or his loyalties. His cult came before all, and those who betrayed his cult, betrayed him. Those who left his cult, left him. She had abandoned him, stolen his reason to smile, when she took herself from his home, his arms. And yet, she had kept the bond......

Self-pity warred inside the greater demon. His good nature fought with vigour, trying to explain that she may have left their home, but she still loved him. His good nature lost, as always. The rage and pain of love betrayed conquered faith, as it had for some months now, and he could only see that she had abandoned him. The bond they shared mocked him with its hollowness. It meant nothing.

And yet....He still carried the ring.

The diamond rings they had both quested for, and given one unto the other. Neither had worn them for some time, because they needed the power of the newer rings, but they had each kept them. His had been turned to an earring, and he idly touched it now, where it hung from his left lobe, softly clinking against one of his horns.

No. He would keep it on, he decided. He would not remove the ring until the OmniLords had heard his plea, granted his request. He would wear the ring to remind him of all that he had lost, all that she had taken from him. He would keep the diamond band on his ear until finally, the bond with Kayura was severed, and then he would be rid of it, and all else that reminded him of how his heart had been shattered.

Not watching the ground beneath his feet, he stumbled slightly, catching himself with a curse. The jostling caused his map to fall onto the pathway between the trees. He did not notice, intent on reaching the warpgate that was a mere hundred yards away.

With another sigh, he stepped into the DeSoto warpgate, to leave the Dark Forest behind. This coming portion of his trek would be the worst. He would be almost impossible to reach, should any have need of him, for he was about to enter the most hideous and repulsive of all known realms.

The warpgate flared, and TechnoDemon vanished.

A small breeze blew through the forest, stirring leaves and underbrush, and blowing the map before it. The map unfolded as it flew, until it hit a tree, and dropped between the branches of a root-hugging bush. Clearly marked, the map showed the path TechnoDemon had followed ere now, and also his next destination.

Zenix Homeworld.

[TechnoDemon]

Sleep came to her in the cold of the snow. As did dreams. Dreams of warm arms enveloping her small form into loving release. Forgiveness, acceptance and love touched her, warmed her chilled skin. And her life came back to her when she opened her eyes. The snow about her lay untouched, not even a small animal had been by.

He had not come for her. She closed her eyes to keep from crying. He would not come for her either. But to deny the hope that burnt, albeit faintly, within her, would be to lie to herself.

She knew his thoughts, knew this would happen. And yet she had simply refused to believe it. Simply refused to believe it had come to this. This very moment he was searching for a way to remove her from his life and she could not stop him. Could she?

Beg, throw herself at his feet, at the mercy of his sword? No, her love would not allow her such actions. Cry perhaps but even then, she suspected she would meet his sword. But she would do neither.

Rising slowly, her heart hammered in her chest with what she was about to do, what she needed to do. One last confrontation, she would find him and return the ring which she wore around her neck. What reaction that would bring, she did not know nor did she wish to think much on it.

She began walking, slowly at first toward the nearest warpgate, her body aching and joints protesting; the cold seeped so deep within her form, she could have frozen if she had not moved. This, however, did not enter into her thoughts for they lingered upon her companion and his location.

Zenix.

Why, she didn’t know. She simply made her way to the gate and tossed the gold pieces it required. Stepping out into the darkened world, she felt her body sag. The oppressive nature of the world weighed upon her, dulling her senses and skills. A soft groan escaped her as she trudged forward, unable to summon any magical ability to speed her quest. She only hoped she would be fast enough to catch him before he departed.

[TechnoDemon]

He stumbled. Again. Damn this world, with nowhere to rest, nowhere to recharge his demonic energy. Damn the fact that he couldn't teleport even if he wanted to, just for a change of scenery.

Damn the strange lack of magic, that drained his powers, and removed his energy, leaving him only a quarter of his prowess, and made him so incredibly tired, taking so very very long to regain his strength.

The OmniLords were mad, when they designed this world.

Two-thirds of the Zenix Homeworld had passed beneath his boots. A long, wearying search. He despaired he would ever leave this realm, nevermind finding a way to the OmniLord Citadel.

Despair.

Despair was the key.

He had sunk so far into gloom and dolor that his soul yearned for nothing but a gateway....And there it appeared before him, answering his heartfel longing, the mystical gateway to the realm of the OmniLords. It could never be found, it could only be summoned, by one with no other thought, hope, or dream, than to seek the Gods.

There may indeed be another, static entrance to their realm (he had heard of traders passing through, at the least), but he had not found it. Instead, he found the soulgate. One final look around him, at the desolate wasteland of Zenix, and he stepped through the magical arch, into the realm he had sought for so long.

Trepidation wormed through his heart as he entered the endlessly changing abode of the OmniLords. Few had entered here, it was whispered, and fewer left of their own accord or will. Trespassers were said to suffer the direst of fates, at the whims of the cruel Hoofmaster.

But he would risk it.

The gate vanished behind him soundlessly, and he stared about him, seeking some form of landmark to head towards, some kind of guidepost, anything.

Nothing.

Something?

The landscape (if one could call it that) was chaotic, ever-changing, without any stable form. It appeared to respond to the mind of the viewer, however, settling itself into the semblance of what he thought, what he expected to see. Slowly, the void about him took form.

Green grass, long, rolling hills, mountains.

And cows.

Lots and lots of cows.

Furry cows, with long horns. Cows as far as the eyes could see.

He should have known. With yet another sigh (disgusted at his own lack of imagination), he started forward, pushing his way between the cattle, trying (and failing miserably) to avoid getting dung on his boots. Far, far off in the distance, a ranch was barely visible in the early morning light.

And why was it always early morning, when one spotted a ranch, anyways?

Nearly choking on the musky smell of the cattle, the Greater Demon slwoly worked his way through the herd, aiming for the single coil of smoke that curled skywards from the chimney atop the ranch, all that he could see over the shaggy backs of the beasts.

Soon enough, his quest would be complete.

[TechnoDemon]

Time drug on, the weight of the world weighing heavily upon the drow. Her pace was slow as she trudged through Zenix, stopping often for breaks. Each pause, her stride would break and she would drop to the ground and locate her companion to be sure she was moving in the correct direction. He had a large lead on her and it would be hard to catch him. If only he would rest more.

Then, without the slightest bit of warning, he was gone. As if he had never existed, he was gone, unlocatable. Confused, she let herself slip into a troubled sleep, figuring she must be too tired to properly use the skill she had learned so long ago. Upon waking, however, she realized that even rested she could not find him.

She rose, then, and walked on toward where he had last been. To the last place her companion had stood, she finally approached. Her eyes swept the barren world of Zenix for any sign of him, a lone figure standing off in the distance, or crumpled on the ground in death but neither sight, she found.

Instead, she found grass, matted down from someone kneeling. Her companion, she realized, praying perhaps? What his prayer might have been, she could only guess. And the answer? He was here no longer. Had the gods swept him away in anger at his approach? Her eyes scanned the ground for any other clue but none were seen by her keen elf eyes.

A soft sigh escaped her form and she dropped to the ground unceremoniously, letting her exhaustion send her into a dreamless sleep. Upon waking, she would leave this world, trudge back to whence she came.

The sound of wings awoke her, though a dream it must have been for she was just as alone as she was before. No sign of friend, foe or companion, she rose and began her journey back, to the center of the realm.

She walked on, fairly slow but her pace was continuous. The sun rose and set thrice over the barren world before she could see the warpgate. She approached and tossed the coins required and stepped in. She stepped out into the hot realm of Varo, the desert’s wind kissing her face. A soft smile touched her as she took a sip from a potion, her strength and magic renewed. Without so much as a single thought, she ported off to the gateway to the second level of Varo. She was returning to the only home she had ever known.

The citadel of the Atomic Horde stood like a beacon in the hot desert. Not so much as a flash and she was at the gates. Another moment, she sat poised in one of the large trees just inside the courtyard. She leaned back into the thin branches, the leaves tiny and long, made best for conserving water, such plants could flourish in the desert.

A splash of lavender among the green, the dark elf was hardly hidden though hiding was not her intent. Her eyes closed again as the hot breeze kissed her skin, warmed her chilled bones. She would wait for him here, she thought. He would either return unbonded or the gods would kill him for his arrogance, his quest to find them.

[TechnoDemon]

It had been two weeks. The sun never moved from just above the horizon. The world seemed frozen in time, even if the inhabitants weren't. The cows were constantly moving, eating, lifting their tails and dropping fresh fertilizer on the heather (quite often, the vicious bastards seemed to do it right when he was passing them).

Two weeks, though time stood still.

He knew.

He counted.

After the first few hours, when he realized it wasn't getting closer to noon, he had figured it out. Since then, he had counted his own slow heartbeats, 30 per minute, never stopping, never sleeping. He needed no rest here, it seemed, or food, fortunately, for he wasn't stupid enough to kill one of the Hoofmasters herd for sustenance.

Two weeks of trudging through cows, his boots covered to the shins in dung, his nostrils clogged with the scent of methane and wet cattle.

Yes, wet. It rained here.

A lot.

He didn't remember much of his life before awaking naked on the cold ground of Gothador, but he did have flashes now and then, brief glimpses of what had gone before. "Scotland" came to mind, whatever "Scotland" was. And somehow, the weather didn't surprise him. Another shower formed out of a perfectly clear sky, drenching him once again. Not knowing why, he mumbled "It's fine Scottish weather. The rain's falling straight down. Well, slightly to the side."

The rain stopped, quickly as it had begun, replaced by a cold wind from the highlands. He closed his eyes, depression digging deeper into his steel bones. Two weeks, and the damned ranch was still as far away as it had ever been. The OmniLords were obviously not fond of visitors.

Eyes still closed, he took another step, determined to reach the ranch or die trying.

When he regained consciousness, he slowly opened his eyes, to see the gate. He had walked into the damned gatepost.

Either the ranch had moved, or-and he kicked himself for not thinking of this sooner-his closing his eyes had somehow negated the distance. The OmniRealm was fluid, and it did take the form of what the observer expected, so by not observing, it nullified the fluidity, and all spaces were in one, there was no realm. He should have realized that, but he knew he hadn't been thinking clearly for a long time now.

Dusting himself off, he stood, entered the gate, and crossed the yard to the wraparound porch. There were no signs of life inside the ranch, except for the smoke from the central chimney. The OmniLords were out, probably preparing yet another pointlessly cruel joke at the expense of the inhabitants of the realms, another quest with minimal rewards and exhorbitant costs, no doubt.

Or an invasion of squiggletts.....In the Lair of Decay....During an eclipse.

Yeah, they were evil, these OmniLords. Evil as only the youngest of children can be. The kind of child who lovingly creates an ant farm, takes gentle, perfect care of the ants, then waits for a nice sunny day and gets out a magnifying glass.

Nothing to do but wait, TechnoDemon decided, so he sat on a split-plank bench under the broad roof of the porch. His eyes closed and-needed or not-he drifted off into a fitful slumber.

The Greater Demon dreamed.

His dreams are personal, private, and unknown. In his sleep, his massive clawed hand reaches up, a single fingertip gently strokes the diamong ring dangling from his left earlobe, then drops to his lap. He moves no more.

A creaking board snaps him awake, but his eyes remain closed. Booted steps approach, two sets of feet. The thud of boots almost hides the clopping of hooves on the planks. TechnoDemons eyes open, and he finds himself staring up into the white visage of DocSooty, shaded by his broad-brimmed hat. Beside him is the hulking figure of the HoofMaster, the flaming cowskull staring at him with a baleful glare emanating from deep within the empty sockets.

He stands, his head barely reaching to the ribs of the gods before him. He snaps his wings together with a crash of steel, and bows to the OmniLords. Standing straight and tall, he thinks of all he has gone through, for the sake of love betrayed. He thinks further, of the love before the betrayal. He thinks of the future, with Kayura removed from his life.

Words fail him.

The OmniLords wait, watching him, as though he were an exotic insect that had somehow appeared floating in their beer. Unusual, vaguely disgusting, but surprising enough to not destroy right away.

He thought, and they waited.

His mind settled, the Greater Demon nodded his head in another bow, met the gaze of the OmniLords, and spoke, clearly, without a tremor in his voice.

"Hoof, you're a right bastard, you know that?"

Unblinking, he waited for death or worse to befall him.

The horned skull nodded slowly, a ham-hand raised, and a blaze of light enveloped TechnoDemon. He vanished, leaving nothing behind but a few clumps of dung that had dropped from his boots.

******************************************************

TechnoDemon feared to open his eyes again. He heard nothing, so he couldn't be in the dreaded Disco realm, but he had no idea if the Hoofmaster had created another horrid prison for sacriliegeous fools such as himself. A hot wind blew across him, carrying the scent of sulphur. He felt oddly....Good. Comfortable. Strange, he expected agony.

He at last opened his eyes, to find his own citadel before him. Hoofmaster (who had always had a twisted sense of humour) had apparently decided to simply send him home. He was back in Varo, in the courtyard of his cult. Shaking his head, he walked over to a tree and sat beneath it. He was not yet ready to face his cultmates and their expected questions.

Reaching to his ear, he removed the diamond ring, staring into its perfection, and let his mind drift.

At the last possible moment, he had changed his mind, and decided to keep his bond with Kayura. When he faced his doom at the hands of the OmniLords, he had seen the past, the present, and the future. The recent past was harsh, lonely and empty, and-if he had carried on-the future would be worse, knowing his love was out there, but never to be with him again.

She had left the cult, yes, but they were still together in their hearts, in their souls. They might see one another seldom, but the rarity would make the time together all the sweeter. With the bond, he had love, he had hope. Without it, he had depression and loneliness, an eternal lifetime of it.

He had kept the bond.

Slowly, a single tear trickled down his slate-grey cheek, sadness at his own stupidity of the past months overwhelming him. Time wasted on a fruitless and pointless mission, time that may have been spent instead with she whom he loved.

He would seek her. Despite her cloak, he would somehow find her.

And they would fight. And one or the other would die.

And that way, would they prove and renew their love for one another.

He would find her, after a good long rest, for-now that he was free of the OmniRealm-he was utterly exhausted.

Horns scraping lightly against the bark of the tree, TechnoDemon tipped his head back, eyes closed, and drifted into a long, pleasant-dreamed sleep.

[TechnoDemon]

Her head drooped down as her eyes slid shut, the world dimming, fading out slowly as sleep slowly extended it’s grasp over her, it’s movement so slow she did not notice. For a short time did she doze. With a jerk, she was awake. She glanced around to see where she was when she realized her jerk had left her unbalanced.

A quiet sort of squeak escaped the dark elf as she toppled from the tree. Surprised by the fall, she was caught off guard when she felt a stab in her arm as something sharp cut through the skin though the thud of hitting the ground did not come.

She scrambled off of the form of TechnoDemon hastily, her left hand covering the wound upon her arm, looking at him, confused and disoriented. Odd, she thought quietly, to herself, I thought I would feel the bond breaking..

“Welcome back…â€

[TechnoDemon]

He was woken by two jolts. One when something hit his first left horn, the second when a small, soft body landed on his abdomen. His eyes flew open, to see his bondmate, her lavendar skin shining in the soft light of the desert cavern, a long, shallow gash down her arm showing where she had caught herself on his horn.

A quick glance upward showed a few broken leaves. Obviously, she had been in the boughs, but for how long? Had she just appeared? Climbed the tree to watch him? To ambush him? To kill him?

Another look at her revealed the answer. A light sheen of perspiration covered her lithe form. She had obviously been there for some time, soaking in the heat. Why? Waiting for him? Or had she simply been-for lack of a better term-homesick?

"Welcome back," she murmured softly. She met his eyes, but she wasn't challenging him. She didn't avoid his gaze, she wasn't feeling guilty, so she wasn't spying on him.....He was confused.

But it saved him the effort of hunting her through the realms, at least. He had had quite enough traipsing through the Omniverse of late.

"And you," he replied after a few moments, trying to gauge how best to proceed. "Welcome....Home." He saw the cult sigil she wore, saw she was still in the Omega Cell. But this citadel would always be her home, as far as he was concerned. He wanted to say this, but words failed him. He wanted to beg her to return, but his honour forbade it. She had made her decision, and asking her to return, to give up her own dreams, simply to be with him....He could not...He would not ever do that.

Drawing on his limited magic, he cast a small spell, to heal her wound. It would recover quickly enough without his aid, he knew, for her constitution was greater than his, thanks to her elven heritage, but he felt the need to take care of her, even in such a small way as this. The trickle of blood ceased, and pale purple flesh knit together seamlessly, without a scar.

Another few moment passed, and nothing was spoken between them, the silence stretching even as the shadows did. Neither moved, save for the rise and fall of their chests, and his tail slowly, sinuously winding back and forth mindlessly, leaving odd patterns on the dusty ground.

At last, with a small grunt, a decision was made. He reached between his wings and drew his Nightmare Cleaver.

[TechnoDemon]

She flinched, how could she not? His sword drawn, she reached for hers almost instinctively. She drew it quickly, with the grace of a trained warrior having done it countless times before. Her fingers tightened around the hilt as her stance changed to that of defense, waiting for the blow to hit her.

Hardly a breath later she dropped the blade to the ground. The heavy metal hit the sand with a dull thud, dust rose in a small cloud around the edge of the blade. And Kayura did not move. Fists balled, her eyes bore into his before looking to the blade. She would not fight back.

“Before you do,â€

[TechnoDemon]

Not a muscle twitched. Still as death, he stood poised. His weapon had never been set, simply held in his hand. Eventually, he blinked, and the flaming blue of his eyes dimmed. Arm bent, he lifted his weapon, lengthwise before him, the long, deadly blades extending past his shoulders, glinting blue in the cavern light.

His tail curled forward, around his leg. The living steel spike on the end extended, shifting its shape, to become long and pointed as a rapier. A sudden snakelike dart, and the ring was speared on the tip, jangling against it, the tiny chain whispering softly across the dirt as the tail retreated, lifting, bringing the ring and necklace to his other hand.

Still, neither moved.

She had heard his tail strike, the shrill whistle of a steel blade slicing through the air. He knew she had.

She had not flinched.

She stood yet, relaxed, composed, waiting the death she was certain he would bestow upon her. Her head tilted slightly downward, eyes closed, presenting her soft lavendar neck for the kiss of his blade.

It never came.

Instead, she felt a small weight descend onto her chest, a thin line across her neck, cold metal against her hot flesh. Nothing more, but a soft double-thud, the sound of something hitting the earth.

Nothing more.

Silence.

After several moments, she finally opened her eyes. The diamond ring nestled between her breasts, the chain about her neck. Miniature rainbows flashed from the stones facets as it moved with her breathing. Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

TechnoDemon knelt before her, his own head bowed. His armour was gone, piled neatly beside him. His Pincers, his spare weapons, his amulets and rings and runes, all stripped and set aside. All that remained was the diamond ring in his left ear, and the Nightmare Cleaver in his hands.

He knelt, the Greater Demon. The Benevolent Tyrant of the Atomic Horde was on his knees, genuflecting to Kayura, his head tilted, horns almost scraping the earth. His broad back bent, his hair falling down to the dirt, exposing his own neck to her, wings folded back and down, out of the way. Even his serpentine tail was completely and utterly immobile.

His arms were extended above and beyond his head, the giant blades of his weapon steady, the hilt resting on his open palms. The meaning was clear, with no room for misinterpretation. He was offering her his weapon and his life.

"Kayura...." The deep voice rumbled softly, echoing from the ground inches from his mouth. "My lady....My love....I have been angry. I have been hurt and heartsick. I have been a fool, and I came close to destroying that which means more to me than life itself."

His head lifted then, the sky-blue eyes bright, swimming with tears. Some few had escaped and cut sparkling trails through the dust that coated his face, the clean slate skin seeming much darker, more purple, in contrast to the pale lilac of the dust.

"I have been a fool, blinded by grief. But at last, when it was almost too late, I did see the truth, and my heart wept for what had almost come to pass by my hand. I cannot sever the bond between us, Kayura, for it is all that remains to me of you, of the love we shared. Of the love I have for you yet...."

Eyes grew dim again, as the lids blinked furiously, trying to free his sight of the salty drops of sadness. He met her violet gaze one final time. "Kayura, I love thee. I always have, and ever I will. If you wish our bond severed, then grant me the boon of death first, that I may die while still joined with you."

His eyes closed, and he bowed his head once more.

[TechnoDemon]

He bowed his head, horns in the dust, sword offered to her. Slowly, she reached for the blade, pulling it from his hands without touching the steely gray skin. She weighed the weapon in her hands; it was heavier, made for a larger grip. She stood there for an eternity, looking down at the figure before her, then the blade within her grasp.

Seconds ticked off into eternity as her heart beat dully in her chest. Slowly, she set the blade down in the sand next to hers, silently. The sand was hardly disturbed. The faintest of sighs escaped her.

A single motion, the elf dropped to her knees in front of the demon, her body slowly laying it self over him, lightly to avoid the horns that still could poke her. Her arms rested on his back, forehead against his skin. Tugged by gravity, the ring slid from against her body, swinging from her neck as she leaned against TechnoDemon, swinging, brushing against him as she rested.

“Death will not find you, then, my companion. Not by my hand, it shall not.â€

[TechnoDemon]

Her skin felt as cool as a benediction to him, a blessing he had never dreamt to feel again. He dared not move, for fear of hurting her, this amazing, marvellous female. His love, his companion, his bondmate.

His.

For eternity.

He could scarce credit that she wished him with her still, after his betrayal, after he had sought to part them forever. He felt unworthy of the love of this woman, knowing he could never measure up against the perfection she embodied, but determined to try his best despite this.

Slowly, he slid his arms about her waist, and he held her close, but gently. His massive frame heaved and shuddered as silent sobs wracked him, salty tears dripping into the thirsty soil beneath them. Tears of joy, tears of love, tears of feelings there were no words for, but threatened to burst his great heart, knowing she would remain with him, she would not cast him aside, as he had so nearly done in his pique.

At last, his tears ended, his sobs ceased. Slowly, he eased upright, allowing her time to move, to avoid injury. He took her slender elfin hands into his giant paws, and lost himself in her eyes. No words needed to be said, the gaze was enough. His head tipped, bringing his lips to hers slowly, as his wings rustled and chimed, opening wide, then sweeping forward to wrap about the pair, sealing them from view.

The hot desert winds howled through the gateway of the citadel. Dust and sand blew on the breeze, errant leaves skittered here and there in the courtyard, but nothing else moved.

There was only the wind, the world, and the metal shell that hid the lovers from sight. Only they existed in that tiny, mirrored world, and that was enough for them.






(The End)

[Songwoven]

*applause* well done you two, first rp thread i've read start to finish

[Woja]

Well, I thought that was just smashing.

Very well written, the pair of you!