It was all such a blur. Day after day, Demetrius tried to remember exactly what had happened on that faithful day. He knew it was painful, knew it would burn his soul, but he longed for the truth. It was as if he was so torn by the memory that he had forced himself to forget. Now here he was, years later, with hardly any clue as to what had happened. All that he knew was that he was cursed with the Humanity Lycanthrope syndrome and he once had a family. Memories were the footprints one leaves in history. Without them, you'll never know where you came from, or how you got where you are. For Demetrius, who's mind was so lost in the void of it's own obliteration, it was like he wasn't really there. As if he didn't truly exist. Every day, he simply roamed the realm of Arda, hoping to find some clue, some light to his existence. Without it, there was no reason for him to continue fighting for the Gods.

It was for this purpose that Demetrius had set out towards the holy grounds, the Sanctuary of the Angels. In his human form, Demetrius had experienced severe mood swings, ranging from quiet and closed in to rash and arrogant. He fought with a different battle style every day and faced enemies that he couldn't remember the next day. He was tired of this, tired of the way he lived. He wanted it to end, for the confusion to cease. It was time to seek professional help and make amends with the Gods. He set out for the destination at the rise of the morning sun. All through the day, Demetrius walked, his crystal blue eyes scanning the surroundings as he took in his path. He had walked for nearly fourteen hours, with rest and replenishment included, before reaching the holy grounds. There, as if waiting for him, was a priest in training by the name of Jackle. He was a young man for a priest, with a joking presence about him. However, beggars could not be choosers. So Demetrius pleaded his case to Jackle.

Jackle took him inside his home and laid out some special potions, herbs, and ornaments. Demetrius watched the many items pile up upon the wooden table until it was hard to tell what they were resting upon.

Your soul is in a very fragile and weak state right now. No wonder so many are after it. It's been sullied. We shall cleanse it. The process will take several days.

"Whatever it takes to regain my former self, I will do." Demetrius replied, closing his eyes and relaxing in the soft, sheep-skin chair that Jackle had offered him. Jackle rose, already removing the stopper of the first vial of mysterious potion and smirked.

Then let us begin.

Jackle did not joke. The entire ritual took a long four days. Dawn to dusk, Demetrius was rubbed down with herbs, sprinkled with holy water, and had ancient jewel placed upon him as Jackle recited old incantations from the Holy Book of Spells, though his was a much older version than Demetrius's own. Little by little, Demetrius fell into fits of nightmarish sleep. Burning trees, dying wolves, and a tall, slender silhouette amongst the dancing flames continued to pop in his mind. At first, they were hard to decipher. But the more and more Jackle practiced upon Demetrius, the more they became clear. It was many decades ago, shortly after being plagued with the Lycanthropy. He had been banished from his pack for his cursed soul and forced to wander the woods as a loner. After several days, Demetrius went back to plead his case to the Alpha, only to find the entire section of woods engulfed in an inferno. Corpses of wolves lay scattered about the ground, their bodies slashed and wounded as blood soaked into their rich fur. As as Demetrius wandered deeper into the carnage, he came face to face with a tall, slender figure, holding strange weapons with blood dripping from their edges. It was a female, and her words burned into his mind, even as he fled the scene.

Thúllivren, I made you the monster that you are. I will not cease until you've been reduced to a mere shell of your former self. Run, Lightning Foot, run as fast as the winds shall carry you. But I shall find you, one day. And I will finish what I started...

He never saw her face, but in the place where her eyes were, a strange flash took place that illuminated the entire area.

Black Out.

When Demetrius had came to, the woman was gone, the corpses were gone, and he was nowhere near the smoldering remains of his village. He was in the middle of the woods out near Estolad, and had no idea who he was. Being infected with the Lycanthropy, he couldn't control his changes. A werebeast labeled as a killer, he was constantly lynched. He called himself Demetrius after the only hunter who showed thanks for him saving his life, and swore to find the mystery of his past and developed a strong sense of justice along the way.

Yes, whomever this woman was, she was no human. She used a black magic on you the likes of which I've never seen. She nearly crushed your soul. Somehow, it managed to hold together for this long. A normal being would've been nothing more than a shadow by now. Go forth, Thúllivren, and live life in your rejuvenated body.

These were the words of Jackle five days after meeting him. He had finished the ritual in four days, and gave Thúllivren a day to rest. Now he left in his original form, a breed of wolf thought to be long dead since the near beginnings of Arda. The Draug'Ist, or Lore Wolves. Known for their speed, power, and extreme devotion to the powers above, Draug'Ist use to make up a large sum of Guardian and Goddess followers. Such knowledge explained Thúllivren's actions even when he didn't know himself. He was never truly a human at all, but a wolf cursed with a human's blood. With his gleaming white pelt dancing in the morning sun and his transparent gold eyes holding a look of joy, Thúllivren ascended the hills outside of Jackle's residence to return home. However, something in the back of his mind prickled, as if he could sense a presence nearby.

Ohhhh!
Look into the mirror,
Look into the wall;
I can see your inside...
I can see it all.
You cannot escape me.
Even if you try.
What a little baby!
Don't forget to cry.

Flames engulfed the trees of the forest. Howls of agony erupted in a chorus of muffled snarls that soon faded to whimpers. Silver glinted on the burning earth...

Blood washed the scene as dagger and claw tore through fur and flesh until the pack lay dead. A contorted smile slithered upon ebony lips, baring the edges of sharp fangs that were still tucked away in their 'prison'. The Draug'Ist... followers of the deities above and guardains of the unknown. Creatures of light. She laughed and twirled in sheer joy, singing a haunting little tune as she did so.
"Come little ones, come here to me. Come here to me as you fall into decay. You cannot escape me, even if you try. What a little baby! Don't forget to cry. It is here we vow to...

She paused, the tip of her weapon dripping with the wolven blood. Another figure wondered into the scene, the fire light reflecting in his transparent golden orbs as he came face to face with her. What a brave one, indeed. Oh, this one she knew! A purely sinister smile of sheer satisfaction cracked her lips then, and a cackle erupted from her throat. "Devour the sun." she finished the tune, turning on her heels to face him. The one she knew as Thúllivren. As she spoke to him, he fled.

Thúllivren, I made you the monster that you are. I will not cease until you've been reduced to a mere shell of your former self. Run, Lightning Foot, run as fast as the winds shall carry you. But I shall find you, one day. And I will finish what I started...

And she intended to keep that promise. So much that she dared to wonder into a place in this world she never wanted to go-- the Sanctuary of the Angels. A dreadfully holly place that made her skin crawl when the scent of the angelic beings here wafted into her nostrils. Urg! What a horrible scent! The demoness, Lady Darkness, snickered. Five minutes of coming here and she already hated it. Angels. Lady Darkness hated angels. If it was up to her, she'd have their precious feathered wings burned off their backs! There was nothing worse than an angel when it came to holly creatures. Save for the wolven ones, of course. Lightning Foot. Precious little Thúllivren. She knew him well. Pity she hadn't seen him in such a long time. Lady Darkness was almost ashamed for not playing with him like she wanted to. Poor, damaged little wolf. She smiled, wickedly. I'm sure he misses the likes of me by now, heh heh heh heh!

A Draug'Ist that she'd so generously given the lycanthrope curse, 'Lightning Foot' was a weak spirited creature she almost crushed. Almost crushed! Pah! There was no telling how much trouble her little Thúllivren had gotten into since she'd last seen him! It was time to pay him a visit.
Lady Darkness had followed and tracked his scent for a tiresome four days, and it had lead her here, to the Sanctuary. A tainted, demonic growl rumbled from her throat. So he hasn't embraced his little gift yet, eh? What a shame. Oh well! That just gives me more to play with! The demoness shrugged and rounded a corner, the ebony skirt swishing while she walked, her heels not even making a sound. She didn't like this place. She didn't like this place at all. How DARE he lead her here!

While she was walking around, Lady Darkness was taking mental notes of her surroundings. She'd write it all down later, knowing she wouldn't forget. Lady Darkness had a perfact memory. Footfalls echoed in front of her, the clicking of claws making her head glance downward instead of upward. Her dark hair fell in front of her face as she walked calmly onward as a familiar white pelted creature came into veiw. The demonic tails in her black eyes spun feriously as she saw him walking towards her. Well, well, well... look who it is! a giggle was surpressed in her throat. Lady Darkness smiled to herself, lifting her chin while she walked. But when ever he decided to look up, Lady Darkness was gone.

She stood atop the roof of one of the buildings in the sancutary, resting a gloved hand on the stone wall while she watched him. He hadn't seen her face yet and she intended to keep it that way. The demoness glanced up at the sky with a scowl marring her death pale face, hissing when she saw the sun basking in the sapphire sky. It was still light hours. The black slits furrowed, reflecting Thúllivren's figure as he walked. Where ever he was going, she was going to follow him. She'd wait until nightfall to reveal herself to him once more. It'd been far too long...
Lady Darkness was going to let him know that as she had said, she had found him. And she was going to finish was she started all those years ago.

The same prickling feeling grasped his mind again. He was only just aware of what his body was capable of. After all, he was a Draug'Ist again, a mystical creature gifted with the blessings of the gods. He had magical energies flowing through him that enabled him not only the speech of man, Common Tongue, but a large quantity of other feats. This feeling, Detect Evil, was one of them. It was as if his instincts were telling him that something or someone quite dangerous was around. His transparent gold eyes scanned his surroundings. To the left. Nothing. To the right. Nothing. He sniffed the air. A weak scent drifted into his acute nostrils. That of sulfur and decay. He shook his head. Maybe bodies must've been preserved and buried in these parts. He was being too cautious. No spawn of darkness would dare trend such holy ground.

"I think I shall return to Estolad. It is my only home, after all. The villagers should be happy that their 'Lycan' is dead. Perhaps a small white lie saying I slew the beast would allow me to protect them further. Yes, if it is for the greater good, then it is what I shall do." Thúllivren muttered to himself, before sprinting back down the path he took from his homeland to get here, ready to settle down and begin his life where it had last left off, training to protect others. He was quite skilled in battle now, and had some strong spells under his belt. He should make a fine Paladin. Serving the Goddess of Light, Lothlómendil, was his top priority as a Draug'Ist, and so he would focus his life on bettering himself for that single purpose. The land of white grass and pure soil was slowly turning into a speck of nothingness as he ran down the dirt path before him. Trees all around him swayed in the light breeze that picked up and specks of dandelion down fluttered in the wind.

It was a calming experience for one who's life before had been plagued by sin. He felt adrift amongst the stray leaves and few sparrows that dared to leave their perch to fly alongside Thúllivren. This was Arda. This was how it truly looked. When one's eyes are veiled by the curtain of doubt, guilt, sin, and desperation, it was hard to tell what your surroundings were. Now that the priest, Jackle, had lifted that veil, Thúllivren felt stronger than ever before. And it seemed as if he'd be able to test his strength sooner than he had thought. Jumping into the air and landing in the opposite direction, Thúllivren lowered his body as his fur prickled upward against his flesh, his black lips curled up in a defensive snarl.

"I think you've followed me quite enough, stranger. Reveal yourself!"

My face is all 'muddy'
you think its a shame
Wash away the color,
wash away the pain

This was her solemn duty, so she felt, to follow her long lost Thúllivren until the very ends of the earth if she had to. She would finish what she started, and she would do it with a bang! Lady Darkness crept behind him as a shadow, silent on her feet like every cold hearted assassin was, moving only in the darkness where his wolven sight could not penetrate. When ever he thought he'd finally found her, just like a cat scurring across a hot pan, the demoness was not there. Oh, he was a cautious one, wasn't he? How typical of a wolf. Always using those keen ears of theirs. Hmph. Lady Darkness smirked, following him into the planes. The wind picked up, gusting across the landscape in a gentle caressing breeze that she batted at in annoyance, carring with it the pollen of the flowers that were shattered in the grasses.

It took the demoness a bit of time to actually register in her mental map she'd made for herself exactly where her little Thúllivren was headed. Estolad, wasn't it? Yes, she was sure of it now. The landscape leading there was unmistakeable. Though she'd spent most of her time in Arda's capidal city, Lomedor, Lady Darkness made it a matter of importance to get around. She had to know where she was going when missions and such like were given to her. Once, she'd heard about a 'Tower of Darkness' where Arda's notorious God of Darkness dwelled. She hadn't been there though. Well... at least not yet. She hadn't been to any of the Towers of the Deities. Arda was such a big place and was easy to get lost in, should you take in too much ground at a time. Dark slits scanned after Thúllivren, watching his every movement like a hawk. He seemed... happy? Where the hell had she been in the last few years?! He was sopposed to be drowning in his own despair! Cursing every fowl oath she knew in the back of her mind with a bold smirk marring her face, Lady Darkness drew closer to him, careful to keep her position downwind so he wouldn't pick up her scent.

You will hold my hand and
look into my eyes
Wash away the mother,
wash away the lies.
You might think there's one of me,
a certain shape and size.

Evil was tricky and sly. The moment you think you've figured out what it is, it changes its form. He knew she was there, some how. A frown crossed her lips. She couldn't make her big enterence here. Not in the open. Not in day light. Lady Darkness stopped in her tracks, clawing her way up silently into a branch of a nearby tree to hide in. Its shadow would cloak her, the leaves over hanging. She somewhat struggled to see him through the green leaves sheilding her from sight herself, finally managing to locate a small hole to see him through. Exhaling softly, the demoness kept perfactly still as he spoke. Ohh, darling, you can't see me now. she smiled to herself devilishly, Now be a good boy and wait. Your surprise comes later. Te he he. When she looked at him, she couldn't help but see that fragile little wolf that she'd victomized with the lycanthrope curse. He was so crushed! She could still remember the look on his face... oh, it was such a delight! Such a pure, angelic creature, drowning in its own despair. What could be more entertaining than that?

But one prefers the heldow kiss,
and the other loves good-byes.
Look into the mirror!
Look into my eyes...
You cannot see anything,
but I'm alive!

But as Thúllivren stood there, fur prickled, teeth bared, eyes narrowed, nothing happened. The wind blew harsh for a moment, then settled back down to a fluttering breeze. The sharp scent of pine needle and fertile soil was carried upon the invisible winds as he waited. After a good while, Thúllivren slowly raised himself up, before perking a furry brow in confusion. What had he sensed then? Why was his magic activated if nothing was there. Maybe...there was still taint upon his soul? No, Jackle had spent four days cleansing it. There was no possibility of error in the ritual. Priests don't make mistakes when it came to destroying darkness. So what was it? Maybe there was truly something out there, and it had yet to reveal itself, even when Thúllivren showed that it's presence was no longer hidden. Deciding to leave it be for the moment, Thúllivren turned and continued his trek towards home.

"Oi! Wait up! Lightning Foot! OOOOOI!" Called a familiar voice from behind, causing Thúllivren's ears to perk as his head turned. His eyes watched as Jackle ascended the hill, waving his left hand in both greeting and as a way to get attention, while his right hand was gripped around a golden rosary. Why was he here?

"Jackle. Was there error in the ritual?" Thúllivren asked as the blue-haired priest reached a few feet in front of him and bent down to grasp his knees and catch his breath. He laughed against gasps before raising himself up, rubbing a finger under his nose for reasons unknown.

"No, no, dear Lightning Foot. I am here to pledge myself to you."

"Pledge yourself? Why? I did nothing to earn such an honor..."

"My fine furry friend, you've done more than enough. I delved into your memories when you were in the state of limbo and I witness the events of your life. You, sir, are one of the strongest warriors I've known. I'm tired of living alone on the outskirts of the Holy Land. I want adventure, I want thrills, I want--"

"Death, if you follow me. I walk a long, treacherous road. I cannot guarantee your safety if you accompany me."

"What are you, my dad!? I can take care of myself, thanks. Besides, who's going to cure you if you run into the succubus who plagued you in the first place?" Jackle insisted, bending down to look Thúllivren in the eyes. He hesitated for a second, before sighing and lowering his head.

"Very well, Jackle. I suppose I owe you that much. But come, let us make camp ahead. Moon's dance approaches and I need my rest." Thúllivren replied, and then walked down to look for an ideal spot to lay rest as the sun dipped low behind the mountain spines in the distance lands.

A sigh wisped past dark lips in a cloud of vapor. Lady Darkness's identity was still hidden. Excellent. She leaned back against the bark of the tree, taking one breath at a time before she heard a voice, a different voice, enter the scene. Arching a single black brow, the demoness turned her head in her dear Thúllivren to see that he was now accompanied by another person. A young man, by the looks of it. Despicable youth, you're in my way! her thoughts growled as she couldn't help but listen in on their conversation. As she observed him, Lady Darkness noticed the clothing he wore as a priest of a light deity. The demoness shot him an unseen scowl.

"Jackle. Was there error in the ritual?" her dear victom had asked. "Jackle"? That must be the name of the young man talking with him. Wait. 'Ritual'? What ritual?! And then it hit her. Lady Darkness's dark lips drew back in a demonic snarl, baring her large ivory fangs to their roots. So HE was the one responcible for Thúllivren's happiness! That little b**t**d. she growled silently, He'll pay DEARLY for that! Interfering with MY work. How dare he! She listened with a more acute ear on their conversation from then on out, surpressing her angery growls and snarls. Oh, she didn't like this Jackle fellow. She didn't like him one bit! Thúllivren was her's. He was her little scar walking in the world of Arda, he was her own product of monstrosity! Jackle thought it'd be fun to hang around the Draug'Ist, then so be it! But it would come at a steep price, Lady Darkness would make certain of that.

He wanted thrills, eh? The demoness's sinister smile stretched across her entire face in seething delight. If it was thrills he wanted, then thrilles he would have! Following Thúllivren would most certainly be one hell of a party.
Watching the Draug'Ist turn and locate an ideal spot to rest as the sun begun to set, Lady Darkness lifted her gaze to another tree branch nearby, closer to them. Using teleportation, the demoness kept an eye on the two of them, teleporting from place to place with ease to keep up with them.

The night was approaching and every second that ticked by, her smile grew and grew, knowing what was to come. Outside during nightfall, surrounded by trees and plant life. How... delightful. Thúllivren was making this way too easy for her. Night was falling, darkness was coming, and all she had to do now was wait for the right moment to strike. She would sing to him her haunting little melody from all those years ago just as he would fall asleep, like a nightmare creeping its way into reality. Oh yes. And then, the fun would begin. Lady Darkness was finally going to have the chance with her dear Thúllivren after so many years of being away. The poor thing... he must've really missed her by now. Don't worry, my dear. she giggled to herself, We'll play soon. Very soon. You'll see...

((OOC: We've already discussed this in PM))

Jackle did not take long to fall asleep. The whole night, he stayed up and talked about his life. How he had lived with Monks since he was a child, and was naturally religious due to their influence. He felt they went overboard with it, however, and he left to become a Priest in the Temple of Life. Once that had been settled, he moved out to the Sanctuary of the Angels and helped weary travelers and warriors who needed spiritual guidance. Anything for a bite to eat. Basically, he was complaining. And the entire time, Thúllivren had his head on his forelegs and was pretending to be drifting to sleep. Content that he had cued Thúllivren into a slumber, Jackle went to bed. Once he did, Thúllivren rose and bowed in silent apology.

"I apologize, friend, but where I travel you cannot come." Thúllivren muttered simply, and turned towards the road. Sighing as his white pelt gleaming in the bright moonlight, Thúllivren rushed forward at full speed, disappearing from view and all of Arda, constantly on the search for The Ancient Ones and never to be heard of again.