Ruined Fortress

Marcania had returned to the fortress his dear friend and guardian Cirgoth had provided them, though it was just really him and was there another there that Cirgoth had brought here? If so Marcania had not spoken to him much, infact Marcania had done little except keep the place up in his friends absents... horses needed tending after all. And so the angel just sighed softly as he came in for the evening after making his rounds, and figured it was time for a long hot bath god, what he would not give for a soak! Though he felt as if something Familiar had returned to him, though he also felt as if something was off... A premanition? He had a dream the other night, a nightmare, though it was odd... He hardly recalled it, so he had brushed it off. The dream had been so odd though, it made him feel eerie, and worried, something dark was afoot. And soon enough, he was on the otherside of the door in which Cirgoth was with Marsol, in a rather compromising position..

And soon he opened the said door, and then his eyes went wide with terror... Then horror and confusion, "Kirk.." He spoke softly then fury leapt in his lovely eyes as he furrowed with rage, he was not sure what was going on, but this was certainly something to do with fould play and he screamed! "I demand answers!" His voice booming, with the power he could muster, even his has Elemental sword summoned and pointed at the fellow, Marcania was all business right now, and good meaning too! Cirgoth was on a quest for their beloved Thane, and would have told him of news if he had any, and for him not to, and to be like this with this male This familiar fellow who he thought he could trust! He would have never though Marsol, that was what he called himself? Had this demon, dominated the mighty Cirgoth? It made the angel tremble with anger and he trembled... "Step away from him Kirk, let me free you of his poison..." He pleaded... The demon looked injured, he had a chance, and Marcania was a fearsome warrior.

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Whatever Marsol was about to convey to Cirgoth was put on hold as Marcania entered the bath chamber's boudoir, at what moment Cirgoth rose swiftly from the bench and stepped across the floor to another chaise, which he snatched a towel from, to quickly wrap his waist with. The angel's brows then furrowed as his friend's voice rose angrily in demand of answers, and as his sword manifested in his hand, Cirgoth swiftly placed himself between Marcania and Marsol. His hands raised with palms held open in a halting gesture. "Be at ease, Mark. There are no enemies here. I brought Lord Marsol here for a bath and to heal him of envenomed wounds. Put down your sword, and I shall inform you of what has recently come to pass." Indeed, all that had happened, had occured in only the past three days. It was no wonder Cirgoth and Marsol's nerves alike were rather frayed. Cirgoth's voice was stern, if not a tense. He did not appreciate Marsol being threatened by his most trusted friend.

Only if and when Marcania had lowered his sword and relaxed, would Cirgoth proceed. "There really is no need for hostility, Mark. I shall relate what has befallen Thane. Please sit," and he motioned to the bench across from the one he and Marsol had been seated on. Once Thane was comfortable, Cirgoth related all which had transpired over the past three days. "After some soul searching...I traveled to the lair of Mendorin, with the intention of trading myself for Thane. Before you say anything, hear me out. I could not dishonor myself by being so cruel as to offer Aman to Mendorin for Thane. To do so would have been unforgiveable...wrong. I was met in the cavern by Marsol, who tried to convince me to seek another path to liberating Thane, but I saw no other path, and so he left me to do what I had to. He had not long parted ways with me, when I was met also by one who betrayed himself as Mendorin's progeny. His name was not revealed to me. He commanded me to leave, after informing me that Thane had been destroyed, at his hands, his remains obliterated, and he conveyed that if I did not abandon his Kingdom immediately, I would follow Thane's fate. I left, for I could not have defeated the demon on his own ground...I felt the power of that place, and knew I had no choice but to vacate as commanded...as allowed. Marsol found me outside the cavern in my grief...and he took me to his Haven."

The angel paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, and what energy he could, in case Marcania reacted in any way hostile towards Marsol, or even himself in anger. Marcania had a temper and was himself compulsive at times if he felt his own world was threatened. "That was only two days ago. I offered myself, my loyalty, my love, and my devotion to Marsol. He took nothing from me I did not willingly offer, Mark. What I feel for Marsol...I felt even before I walked into Mendorin's cavern. I was willing to sacrifice my love for Marsol, for you, and my own soul to save Thane, but it was all for nothing. My thoughts have been filled with a great many things these past few days. It seems like far more than five days since I last saw you here...But five days it has been. I struggled to find a way to dig myself out of the trap I had thrown myself into...but there was no way out...and only by Thane dying was I released, and Mendorin destroyed. I have struggled with whether I should resurrect him...But I fear attempting it. Mendorin did unspeakable things to him...and he must have died horribly at the hands of the Lich demon's spawn. Fate is a dangerous thing to tamper with. He might be reborn as a child into another life...a good life, or a terrible life. He might be returned as a mortal in some distant land with no memory at all of who he is...of his past, and fall into the hands of another monster. He might return to us, as we knew him, his heart wounded but capable of healing, but I have this terrible ache in my heart, that tells me it shall not be so...That some other ill fate shall befall him if I raise him again. Would he feel betrayed if I did not resurrect him? Or would he resent me for the act? His spirit does not speak to me...Thus his soul must be very far away, or at peace wherever he is. Also...I am rediscovering myself...my heart, my place in the world through Marsol. Life evolves...it changes and so do we all. I will not ask you to follow me, Mark. Your path is your own to choose, but I will welcome and embrace your friendship, always. My priorities however have shifted, for I have commited myself fully to Marsol. I will take Aman to the desert with me, if Marsol will allow it, unless you wish to claim him as your ward. He is incapable of fending for himself. I will not abandon you, if you wish to remain at my side, but I am going with Marsol," he concluded, that is unless Marsol rejected him.

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Date: 11:52 PM Mar 12, 2006
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Finaly, that seemingly daft pair of ears that should have been pointed, heard those words spoken only out of love for the second time. Or was it the third? He had lost count, not that he had been counting anyways. He realized had he been in his usual mood, the devil-may-care one that scoffed at the notion of not setting something on fire to get a rise out of someone, Cirgoth would be very angry at the wasting of his words. However, Marsol was not in that frame of mind. He didn't inwardly smirk at the feelings of the angel nor those he held towards him or what he was, which was a monster of course. Nothing would ever change his mind about that. No amount of affections, no matter how deep Cirgoth claimed he would be true till he breathed his last, Marsol had accepted that fact a long time ago. Now weither it was true or not was a whole other game altogether. The silence that would follow the question posed was... defening. It was like some unseen malicious force that sought to weight down on them, sufficating in its presence and what was worse, it could only be remidied by the two souls parked on the very comfortable bench, one naked and the other damn near it. As much as he willed himself to keep a level headed view about the topic of conversation, his body was unwilling to obey. Oh how annoying he would think as he met that intense green gaze with his own goldish browns before he had moved back to his spot on the bench, keeping his hands to himself. For now. During the entire time Cirgoth related how he felt, Marsol said nothing. Not a word. Not so much as a hint to weither he was angered by the angels show of fears or concerns, but that was to be expected with him. He wasn't much of a talker himself. Why, wasn't that was Cirgoth was there for? To fill that empty space that had perplexed he himself for so long? Wasn't Cirgoth there to say all the things that were right, so that Marsol wouldn't have to? No, no that was wrong he scowled inwardly at himself. Cirgoth was there of his own free will. The angel man wasn't put there as some sort of divine prize, a treasure, an object for his personal amusement. And yet he couldn't help but think it was so. Did Maelmorda have a hand in it? A twist of fate? He was thinking on it again, something he tried not to do too often for it stayed his hand and brought mercy to those that deserved none of it. Like the beautiful arabian women that had been chained down in the pit that Nicholai had feasted upon like the beast he could be. Not was, could be. Poor fellow was no more a beast then the catai was. He was just himself, it was in his nature to feed and to kill if need be. One couldn't fault him for it, or hate him. It was in the natural order of things for those that were weak, to die so the stronger could go on.... right? Marsol had held some tiny belief in that phrase but now he wasn't so sure anymore. A hand came up to the front of his face to rub over it a bit as he considered everything that had happened thus far, and all that could happen if he did what his head was telling him to do and not his heart. The consequences. The vengence. The agony... The insanity, that in itself was bound to happen sooner or later. Unfortunatly what Cirgoth so sought to hear from those lips died the instant Marcania opened the door and flew into his own fit of rage and concern for his friend. His brow rose just a hair as he leaned back a bit, placing his hands behind himself on the bench as those amber pools seethed on the other angel, the one he thought had an oddly sweet scent about him. Firey the other was with how he accussed him of betwitching Cirgoth in some manner. A part of him simmered to tear out the angels tongue for such a label but he stayed where Cirgoth had left him, on the bench, in a towel that was still plummeting. Yes, there was a part of him that hissed to do horrible little things to Marcania just from what he had said but that side would always be in him. That inpulsive side, that darker part of his soul. Yet he knew Marcania only spoke out of suprise and shock at a demon such as Marsol being in his home without his knowing or permission, not that Marsol gave a damn about anyones permission. Not even Cirgoths. Funny thing was if Cirgoth wanted nothing to do with Marsol anymore, the desert creature would agree but come swiftly every single night the angel retired to his bedroom. Just to perch on his window or at the foot of his bed in the darkness to watch him sleep. It was becoming... mildly obsessive, this love that had been there even though Marsol didn't want to admit it at first. This was not the time for his display of affections he decided as his form rose from the bench in such a fluid like grace that all but would shock those who knew him for the sometimes cold blooded killer he could be. He could be delicate. He could even be sweet, that is when he wanted to be. His moods came and went like the sandstorms back in his home land. Home. The word made his hands clench into fists at the thought of not being there to guard his beloved desert with his life, not the lives of his tribe, just his alone. Marcania was hurt, that much was clear. Cirgoth relayed the terrible events that had happened to Thane and the very good one that had to Mendorin. Marsol's brows furrowed at just the demons name. He never cared for Mendorin or his disgusting ways. Now was a time of greiving and Marcania, if he cared at all for Thane, would be doing a great deal of it. He would need Cirgoth in that time, he thought as a hand was rested on the top of the rather skimppy towel covering his gender and rear from view, stepping as silent as a corpse to the back end of the room as Marcania voiced his outrage and Cirgoth did his best to calm him. Something struck Marsol funny. The two men engaged in a heated argument as to why a demon was in their home and their friend was no more, couldn't look more like brothers. The welcoming faint warmth of the firey gateway that had opened up just behind his figure, forming itself to the outline of his body, made him smile. "Hmm," he murmured as his left foot stepped back into the portal and through it to sink a bit in the cooled sand of the desert, "I envy him." His words weren't even above a whisper. They were barely heard to his own ears as his body passed into and through the gateway he had conjured up between the time it took to move around the bench and further back into the room. He had no intention of hearing another anger filled word Marcania had to say. It might send him into a hostile state that he didn't want to be in. Besides, if something as dishonorable that had happened to Thane, had happened to Wryvaust or any other clan demon, he would be far less reasonable then Marcania. Far less, and much, much more hate riddled. As the glow of the fire died out from just the small amount it gave, a bit of sand was swept over a foot by foot space on the castle floor. It was the only thing that gave a clue as to where the dark haired paradox of a man had gone, naturally. He had a slim hope Cirgoth would not feel he was being ignored by his departure. Furthermore, he had unfinished business to tend to himself as he stood in the darkness of whatever space in time he had stepped in to. Contemplating. Plotting. Calculating. The ghost of a smile tugging at him. Fate had a strange way of righting the wrongs people, angels and even demons commited. Strange and oh so profound...

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Date: 11:58 PM Mar 13, 2006
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When Marsol produced that gate of flames just behind himself as he stood, Cirgoth's gaze darted on him, but even as his lips parted in a purse to form the word 'wait', the desert dragon slid a step rearward to vanish through the upright arch of flames even before he get the word out. Cheeks clenched and nostrils flared as the frustration revisited him with a vengeance, and his gaze cut on Marcania, who had yet uttered a single word as he absorbed all that was said to him, and which shocked and grieved him. Thane's loss was a hard one to take for them both, but Cirgoth had had more time to accept what had happened. Death could only be accepted, it was a fact. That did not mean Thane was lost forever, however. Not to immortals who could rival fate as well as they could tempt it. The angel drug a hand over his face, and heaved a harsh breath.

"I hate being the harbringer of such dreadful news, Mark. Give me some time to sort myself out, that I may perform better if we do decide to attempt raising him. I cannot quell this bad feeling I have about attempting it...It gnaws at me. If, however, you beg me to, I shall not refuse you. There is only one thing in life I would deny you. I cannot deny the love I have for Marsol...Nor permit myself to abandon my promises to him, for they were pledges made on my heart. I will return soon, Mark...and whatever you decide, I shall embrace. You are like a brother to me, Mark, and my dearest friend. Nothing can change that."

The angel then turned away from his brother, and attempted to lock on to Marsol's presence, as he left the room and walked through the castle until he had made his way to his own bedchamber on the second floor, where he gathered some clothing, the tunic and pants alike made of soft deer hide, and dressed himself. He adorned himself thereafter in a suite of leather armor, and pair of elk skin, knee high boots, far more suitable for the desert than chain mail, or plate armor. Hence he summoned his sword, bow, long dagger, and knife to himself, and slid the broadsword into the sheath at his side, while he shouldered the bow and the strap which supported the quiver, then stashed the long dagger and hunting knife on his belt and a scabbard strapped to his boot. Hence a gate would be summoned with a silent command, and he would take leave through that gate, targeting Marsol's location as his destination.

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And Marcania watched his friend as he heard him speak, and it made im growl with the utmost intensity, his hand tightened upon the elemental blade he held, he knew that if he was quick enough.. He could strike down the demon, could slay Marsol and free his friend of his bonds that this corrupt soul placed over him! The Angel had used truth sight upon his friend, though he found himself thinking he was a fool, if he were dominated, then the truth sights effects were useless anyway. Though with the news of Thane he faltered and his world shook the blade shook a slight bit as he tried to cope with the pain of the loss... It only fueled his angel even more so... His friend was now a puppet, one the demon manipulated with an acute amount of power, Cirgoth was puddy in his hands, Marcania could see.. He shut his eyes tight for a moment.. "How.. How could I lose both of you like that, never again.. He will pay!" And in that instant a leap of Celerity was taken at the demon, andMarcania's blade slashed hard strengthened wuth the power of ice, though it was to no avoail as he had been to slow, he only felt the residual heat o his gateway that was no longer, Marsol was gone before his blade was even close. "Damn it! Am powerless to stop this, why must the ones I love be taken from me like this.. Is this how god punishes me?" He hissed and slammed his sword down into the bench and spun about to look at his friend, who was likely so bound he would be furious.. Marc would never be able to harm Cirgoth, not even to save himself.. could he? Doubted it, knock snese into him? Yes, but never hurt the fool.. No he was not a fool but a demons marionette, he sorely wished it was love that guided the angel, but doubted it..

He would stop Cirgoth from leaving so quickly regardless..If need be he would take his sword up and guard the entrance.. "First off my friend, I have things I must convey, and you must listen.." He said in a less then thrilled tone, he had seen Aman a little, and agreed with the elder more powerful angel, Aman had no need to be sacraficed, he was innocent, and would stay as such! "You will leave Aman with me, I do not intend to allow him to be taken, my friend. And I promise I will free you as well." He spoke with conviction and shook with rage, and his eyes alive with fury, he was indeed greatly angered and sorrowed! "I loved him, he deserved better.. Thane was our brother, there is no wound that cannot be healed.. Thane was not meant to die, I can feel it. Or maybe it is my foolish heart that tells me this in grief! Thane deserved better, not to die like a dog to their likes. Our kind.. Has been victimized long enough by all races and evil sorts.. It is a ****ing tragedy!" He roared and then looked Cirgoth in the eyes and held them with his own, "I am sorry you feel how you do, but Thane cannot be allowed to rest prematurely, if I have to raise him myself. Weather he resents you, or not.. you know he will forgive you, he loves you, just as I do. Do not confuse love and lust, my friend, I beg of you.." He said then dropped his head, what could he do, could he even stop his beloved friend from leaving? He doubted so, his power was far inferior to his guardian... "Even if you raise him, do you plan on relinquishing your title as guardian and prince of us? I would lie if I said I did not fear it, but you know... We three are bound by fate!" He cried, his chest heaving slightly as he focused on his friend Then shook his head and walked off... leaving the room to lean against the stone wall as he tried to control his boiling rage.

Though soon after his firend moved off after any words he had, the Angel went after him... He used a quantum leap to pass through the obstacles of stone and other elements that may have hindered him from making to his dressing friends side quickly.. And when he arrived Cirgoth seemed ready to leave. Though Marcania did not want such just yet.. And so as Cirgoth summoned a gate, Marcania called forth his own powers of Wizardry, channeling his own energy to a Negation spell, to counter the gate hopefully successfully shutting it down which was well within his power.

If the spell worked: Marcania would just look to his friend and nod to him, he was not sure what had driven him to do this, impulse? "I cannot let you do this, fight it my friend, dont let this demon hold you to his will!" He begged as he looked to his cirgoth with stern eye and then slashed wide cutting the air in anger. "You are stronger then this!" He hissed, Marcania doubted he would make any headway, but he wanted to get through to his friend,it was doubtful he could hold the more powerful angel her long, for Cirgoth was not one of no small power.. but he had to try.

If not: Marcania would curse himself for not being able to stop him! "Fuck..." He then dropped his sword to his side, and would go find Aman, it was time to get to know the fellow better, and work on making him more.. independant. He wondered, could the fellow even defend himself? Or was he hopelessly broken? He would have to find out, would Thane be hopelessly broken. he hoped that hope would not abandon them atleast, hope was the line of defense against total corruption, was it not? The handsome fellow thought to himself.

 

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Emotions...They had always been rather hard for Cirgoth to deal with, and lately, everything he felt had began to unravel his sanity bit by bit, just enough that he was not sure if he could trust himself. Trust what he felt? Yes. Trust his temper? No. When Marcania had charged at Marsol, Cirgoth had leapt after him, in his own burst of haste, but Mark had gotten a headstart. When Cirgoth came out of that lunge in a dead stand still, he had just stared at Mark with a biting seeth of fury. "Mother fuck," he had hissed it so quietly that his friend had not even caught it, and before he raised a hand to his friend, he had marched away.

He would contend with Mark's paranoid delusions later, once he was sure Marsol was safe. It was imperitive that Mark did not wind up Marsol's enemy, for that put Cirgoth in a very unstable and horrible position. Damn if he would be forced to choose between his friend, and his lover, who also happened to be his Lord now. He simply would not allow that to happen. Could not. He knew what would result. He had heard everything Marcania had said, and his misunderstandings just filled Cirgoth with rage and woe. Because he had not trusted himself at the moment, and because he knew Mark was grieving, he simply did not respond. Only when Marcania had tracked him to his bedchamber, and nulled his Shadow Gate, did Cirgoth's temper escape the cage he had locked it in, to rise to the surface. Muscles tensed as he spun around to lance Marcania with his eyes, cheeks and jaws taut, as one hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword, instictively, while the other curled into a first, his fingernails digging into his palm. He was deeply pained, that at the moment, he could not trust his best friend. "Marsol is not Malik, Mark. He did not dominate me, and lust has nothing to do with it. I knew this would be hard for you to accept, but you must. I loved Marsol before he ever touched me...Before he so much as laid a hand on me. Before Thane was taken from us. Did my love stop me from trying my best to free Thane? No. Did it stop me from deciding to sacrifice myself so Thane could be free? No. Do you know why?" he paused for a moment, and then stepped over to Mark with purposeful aim, to grapple his shirt, gathering it at the shoulder, and shake him. "Because I place honor and duty above everything, even above my own heart!! You think I am blinded?" He shoved his friend away, hard. "I am not. I know what I feel, and it is honest. I know who I am. I have not forgotten, nor shall I forget. And the only way you will lose me, is by pitting yourself against Marsol as his enemy! Have you forgotten how hard I am to dominate? What lengths Malik took to accomplish that? How much blood he had to take from me, and force inside of me? How much he had to weaken me? Marsol never touched me. Forced nothing on me. In fact...he thinks he is bad for me, that I deserve better than him. Did he tell me this? No...I felt it in him. I saw it in his eyes, have observed it in his actions. I sense no evil in him, Mark. You know how keen my sense for evil and danger is. Am I am fooling myself to believe he can return what I feel? Maybe, but I intend to find out whether I am what he needs or not. He knows what I can and cannot tolerate. If you try to interfere, try to stop me from following the path I have chosen to the end, until I know what's what, I will despise you. I wonder...If he was a female, if you would be reacting this way. I am above gender mattering, my friend. There is much about me you do not know. Do not alienate me by misunderstanding who I am, and what compels me, Mark, I beg you. Your attempt to attack the man I love has already driven a splinter in my heart."

The angel drew in a deep breath and calmed himself for a few moments, and then locked his fierce green eyes into Marcania's gaze with a feral burn. "I am not dominated. I will not abandon you as a friend, unless you force me to. Don't make an enemy of Marsol, my friend. That will be poison to me. You will be the one poisoning me. Marsol is doing no such thing." His eyes softened slightly, and with a sighing breath, he gathered the shadows once more. "I will come back Mark, unless you decide I am not worthy of you anymore." The angel would leave at that moment, and if Mark tried to stop him again? Cirgoth would unleash the fury of his power on him. He had enough stamina left to overpower his friend, and he would do just that if Marcania backed him into a corner.

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Marcania was not sure what to do, he loved Cirgoth, wanted to believe that this was love and all that, but it was just so very hard to believe... Impossible to believe such a thing was it not? And here he stood before Cirgoth who he had kept from leaving, he had never stood up to his friend like this before had he.. Well this was a very unforseen event, what the **** could he do? He was unsure and just dropped his sword and pressed to the wall and punched the wall hard, until his knuckles throbbed in pain! He listened to Cirgoth but just offered a nod, he would let the angel go for now, "My lord, Cirgoth... " He spoke softly, he did not usually say his true name, but he felt it was appropriate.. "I just pray for your hearts sake that you intuition is right." He said then turned and walked out, off to see Aman. Cirgoth would not stay he knew, Marsol that demon had a powerful hold over him.. be it love, or domination, he thought it the latter, but he would find out he swore.