Caligo staggered onward through the barren wasteland, alone but for the darkness of the night. Her body still spasmed from her arrival; tearing through a dimensional barrier is never a good idea. But the spasms wee not the worst of it, oh no, for she had managed to break through in the middle of an ocean during a storm. Thankfully she had dropped onto a passing boat far bellow – which, needless to say, hurt - just as the boat was tossed asunder by a gigantic wave, sending it to the depths. It had taken the last of her energy to reach the surface, for she passed out adrift among the coalescing currents of this alien world.

Now she walked. She had made her rather ungainly way across most of the continent, limping from town to town in an attempt to get back. Thus far she had been unsuccessful. But she had hope left; this barren wasteland that she was currently traversing looked the kind of place to be close to the Demon world. The warped and lifeless surface, the lack of vegetation or water, the scattered bones; it seemed almost too perfect.

A stone caught her boot, sending Caligo crashing to the ground in a spectacularly inelegant display of flailing limbs and bitter curses. Her patience was wearing thin. As she went to rise however, another set of spasms gripped her, shaking through her thin frame and sending shock waves of pain to her forehead. A minute later they subsided, leaving her even paler and shaking on the dusty ground. She felt weak and sick, drained. Lifting her head just slightly, Caligo though she could make out a dark shape, though her blurred vision did not allow for any further clues as to what the shape might be.

(*is made that the original was not saved*)

Lomedor was a very, very busy place... the ever annoying chatter of people doing buisness, the laughter of children, the secrecy of the almost non-existant forces of darkness. A city, as it seemed, without fear. But a gruetesec scene had recently silenced the merriment of the once cheerful city, installing within them seeds of fear. The scene was an admirable one, conducted by a sadistically heartless immortal no doubt. The walls and ground where bathed in the fluid of life, the victim robbed of majority of his flesh, his face a silent scream of desperate that would continue to go unheard. She had chosen to take advantage of such a plantation, harvesting the seeds plunged inside those who spoke and heard of the sin that had been commited. Mortal curiousity was the number one killer in many worlds and Arda was definitely no exception.

The Countess of Wrath had enriched her knowledge by spending her time at the city's liberary, whose text taught her many a fruitful thing about the races and the gods of Aman. She had copied the map of Ea and kept it on her person at all times, taking notes when they were appropriate, adding additional and indepth information within the boundaries of the journal given to her by her Queen. Lillian Bloodmare, an outsider from a forgotten realm, had left the riches of Lomedor to explore and expand her knowledge while searching for supplies for her lab. Her exploration had taken her to a place which reeked of death and decay, like graveyard soil. Bones were shattered this way and that, but nothing specail caught her immortal's interest.

Bones crunched under her boots as she moved, or rather, hovered, above the ground. Just as her orbs sweeped the scenary, a flailing figure caught her red gaze in the distance. Limbs flailed helplessly as face met dirt; Lillian arched a single black brow, deciding it was worth checking out. Who ever it was might be of use to her. She bound across the ground in a few seconds flat, closing the distance between them. To her surprise, the hagard figure of a female demon caught her eye. "Pity to see such a demon in pain. Need a hand?" she asked.

“Pity to see such a demon in pain. Need a hand?”

A voice broke the silence, slicing through the pervading gloom of a doomed mind. Caligo had thought all hope lost, for indeed her only wish at that moment had been to curl up and die, but here was a light in the dark, a spark of hope. She opened her eyes, cursing the gloom that even in it’s dullness still managed to burn at her eyes. She saw… a hem. Red against the black of this cursed place. With all her might Caligo forced her neck up, gazing into a young face, dark eyes. Her blurred vision could pick out no more.

“Help” she whispered, for that was all she could muster, “Help.”

I don't know who to trust, no suprise
Everyone feels so far away from me
Heavy thoughts sift through dust
And the lies
Trying not to break,
But I'm so tired of this deceit
Everytime I try to make myself
Get back up on my feet
All I ever think about is this
All the tiring and time between
And how trying to put my trust in you
Just takes so much out of me.

Caligo just gazed into that face and prayed that it was merciful.

Filthy red locks crossed over the face of the rouge demoness, sprawled across the cursed soil. She winced in the gloom of her surroundings, as if even the dullest of light scorched her irises. The smirk that had once embedded itself among the forever young face of the countess disappeared from her features in such as way that it reflected as an emotionless smirk. This demon was battered, on the brink of death almost. It reminded her, briefly, of the other girl she had rescued from the nightly streets of Lomedor, the one Lillian had left behind. The memory of the angel girl sent her contorted mind into a state of pandemonium; What good would come out of rescuing yet another person?

But unlike Kalista, this girl’s aura was… tainted. And was that very taint that soothed her mind into logic mode. The red headed fae was like her- a sinner. Her hands, no matter how many times they had been washed, were forever stained with the blood of another. And yet here she was today, battered and in unfathomable amounts of agony, her eyes literally begging Lillian to save her life. But the question was… would the countess show her mercy? A snicker fell from her full, dark pelted lips. She would gain nothing by killing this girl, but she was bound to gain so much more than a few pints of blood from her should Lillian chose to save her from the nothing that she had become.

This demoness, who ever she was, could be of even more use to her than Kalista was. This girl would actually kill, and she would do it without remorse. Lillian groaned, kneeling down to the pleading girl’s figure, her wild, piercing blood red eyes scanning over the haggard and torn body. She hated to be the heronin, but she had no other choice if this pathetic creature was to survive. “Help,” the demoness murmured twice. Signing, the Countess of Wrath pressed her palms flat against the demon’s ribcage and applied between small and large amounts of pressure, listening for any sounds of pain. This girl didn’t look like any demon in Arda that Lillian had seen and researched, which could only mean one thing: she too, was an outsider from another realm. Perhaps there was more to this stranger than Lillian cared to realize.

Her hands swept across Caligo’s frame, testing, feeling, taking all of the girl’s pains into record. The countess forced her eyes to journey to the demon’s, locking with them, as if she was asking the girl a question without giving it voice. The hearth of her agony was no doubt hidden, and where ever it was, Lillian had to find it. She hiked up the fabric that hid her waist and chest, letting it rest under her breast line. A careful observation of the demoness’s ribs showed indents, as if she had had a harsh fall. And she was disgustingly thin. Do you even attempt to eat?! she thought, Urg… there’s so much I have to do with you before you’re in better shape…

Caligo stared up at that beautiful face, knowing that the only way that she was going to survive was at the mercy of this woman. How could she have allowed herself to fall this far? How was it possible? She had been to a different plan before, but briefly. Nothing had happened then, none of the pain and anguish that she felt now. But this, this was truly a realm of suffering, of death. Her surroundings reflected that. And as Caligo thought this she grew bitter, beginning to hate the world she no found herself trapped upon. She wanted to burn it, to kill it, to rend it asunder and laugh at its death throes. She cursed the world, and her hate gave her strength. Her body stopped shuddering; her breathing eased and her eyesight became cleared. The more she thought of how she would destroy the world, the more strength she regained. But it was still not enough to let her up. For that she would need help. She felt the hand slip under her garments and groaned even at the slightest touch. Every inch of her was in agony, every movement torture.

“Please” she said with obvious effort, reaching out for the hem of the dress, “Please, help me. Give me strength, let me live. I know why I am here now. If you help me now, I swear I will serve you for all time. Please…”

Her mind raced with the possibilities, but already she had exerted herself too much. It was to be now, this moment, where her fate and the fate of the world was to be decided. As she lay, wretched and broken upon the cold, dead ground, Caligo hoped and dreamed. She dreamed of destruction and discord. And she though it good.

The demoness groaned when ever she was touched. Every inch of her was in undoubtable agony. Now Lillilan knew what she was dealing with- this girl wasn't just suffering physically, she was suffering emotionally as well. However, from Caligo's body language, and the jolts she felt going through the thin frame, the demon girl had many a broken bone. Her fingers, arms, and legs seemed to be fine other than the fact that her entire frame was haggard.

A hand reached forth from the poisoned earth by which she was bound, clutching the hem of the countess's red laced dress as she pleaded to her with obvious effort. Caligo was in such tremendous amounts of pain that it nearly surprised Lillian when the demoness moved. Demons where amazing creatures, however, and they were as unpredictable as the gods. The strength they could muster, even when injured, was amazing. The girl's endurance was to be admired; it was that fact alone that further helped Lillian to make her final decision before the words fell from the lips of the fallen.

“Please,” she implored as she reached out for the hem of Lillian's dress. “Please, help me. Give me strength, let me live." The blood-red eyes furrowed upon the figure of the girl as she spoke. "I know why I am here now. If you help me now, I swear I will serve you for all time. Please…” The Countess of Wrath removed herself from the demoness's side, sighing as she rolled her shoulders to prepare herself for her next task. "I vill help you," She hissed between the unseen fangs in the prison that was her mouth. Now that she was speaking, her strong vampiric accent could be heard. The sickening sound of her bones cracking as she cracked her neck echoed in the still silence of the perpetual graveyard. "And in exchange for your services, I shall grant you life. I shall carry you to the nearest town for supplies. Embrace yourself, girl."

Her back arched before she bent downwards once more, her dark clawed hands forcing themselves beneath the demoness's body with which to lift her up. The elegant features toned, sending ripples of energy through her muscles as she lifted Caligo from her to be deathbed. Her long, slender legs bent to prepare for a sprint or jump to cover the long distance between the nearest town and them. Her arms held Caligo fast in her grasp, as if to give the demon a bit of security and consolation as she momently lept into the air.
Her movements where fluid, precise, and swift. The moment she lept into the air, she covered at least twice the length of an adult dragon's wingspan. Time seemed to slow in those moments in midair; the ruffles and lace of the countess's dress, along with the streams of raven-black hair waved with the motion of the air current as Lillian elegantly decended to the ground below, only to leap again.

Her duty now was to save this girl, who ever she was, from the nothing that she had become. How she would do that depended on what she was supplied with. A few moments ago, Lillian thought Caligo wouldn't have lasted long enough for her to transport the demon girl to the nearest town, but now she could see that Caligo would last as long as she needed to. She was fueled by the power of hatred now, and it was that hatred that propelled the countess onward, gave her a reason to carry on, gave Lillian the data she needed to save the life of this seemingly helpless rouko.

"I vill help you, and in exchange for your services, I shall grant you life. I shall carry you to the nearest town for supplies. Embrace yourself, girl."

The sound of the woman’s voice, though clearly vampiric, was life itself to Caligo. This was it, she had purpose, she had guidance, she had a master. Together they could do the impossible, bring down an entire planet, and bring Chaos itself upon the pitiful peoples that crawled like maggots in a wound upon the surface of this cursed place. The world had smote her, and now she would have her revenge; she would strike back.

But first, she needed strength. Her only chance at survival now rested upon the shoulders of the vampires before her, her master, her guide. Caligo shut her eyes tight as she was lifted, the pain of touch coursed through her veins like boiling acid, burning everything. She found herself in a tight embrace, though painful, also strangely comforting. She felt safe for the first time since she had arrived on this cursed place. Her sight cleared enough to allow her a glimpse of a beautiful face, soft skin, dark hair and fangs. Her master looked as she had imagined from the voice; both beautiful and deadly, like a tsunami rearing up to crash upon an entire city. This was a woman whom she could devote herself to.

Every pace was agony, the jolting progress – whilst speedy – only served to increase her anguish. Her crack ribs grinded against each other, mincing the tender muscle beneath, threatening to slip into her own lungs. How strange her anatomy was! In the other place she cared nothing for her form, it did not matter, nothing did. But here she was forced to take on a definitive form, forced to contract the infinite reaches of her essence and swirl them down into a compressive shell, a rotting carcass. The cruelty of reality was mirrored in her own pain.

At last the pounding stopped. They were in another place, the sun starting to rise. The sky showed hints of crimson, tendrils of the vibrant color stretched into the distance. Caligo attempted a smile.

“A red dawn rises” she whispered in her weak an raspy voice, “The blood of the weak… runs into the sky.”

The journey to a secluded town nearby was a long, timed, and painless one for the Countess, but it was a rather agonizing trip for Caligo the rauko. Lillian shifted the girl in her arms in an attempt to ease the demoness's agony but in the end it was all the same- every part of Caligo was seething in pain and hate. As vibrant color sprayed and doted the sky, the sun reared its head. The Countess of Wrath hissed eroatically and distainfully, rearing in a seemingly uncomfertable angle towards the shadow of the building in her sight to sheild herself from the horrid rays of the burning star in the sky.

She could withstand the sun, but she preferred to walk and travel in shadow; Lillian crept through the buildings by the shadows cast on the ground while the world of Ea slowly begun to awaken after a night's rest. Scenting the air as if she were an animal, she could decifer herbs and useful minerals from the mingled air that wafted into her nostrils, which lead her to a small hut at the center of the pathetic excuse for a village. When the demoness spoke, weak but raspy, Lillian simply stroked her thumb over her cheek without looking at her.

Her eyes were focused on only one thing: Supplies. Helping herself inside by using her strength to break the lock, the Countess snuffed out and located a flat surface on which she could lay Caligo on. Once she laid the girl down, she made her as comfertable as she could with the materials she could find, such as feathers and thatched quilts made of multicolor threads. The hut was small, but it wasn't without use; it had entire shelves full of medical equipment and suppies, with vials that were likely to contain drugs and potions. If the eye could blink 2.1 miloseconds faster, she would have ran right into the far shelf and knocked it over, or so it seemed. Lillian ran through the labels they were given until she came upon a jar full of poppy seeds and snatched it from the shelf on which it had been set.

The first thing she could do was numb the pain the best she could and what better way to do so than a poppy seed? The countess gave Caligo three for the amount of agony she was in, with a shot of water to wash it down. She helped her to down it if she needed help before returning to the supplies around her.

As the days passed on, Lillian continued to treat Caligo while she disguised herself as a medicine woman. She took in patients who came in, killed them in private, and used their blood to refresh herself and help to feed the recovering rauko she now looked after. After dark, she'd lock the door and let Caligo rest while she tended to her wounds until they were eventually healed. After so long of caring for her, Lillian was eager to have her get well so that she could make up for lost time. But she refused to leave the demoness's side until she was well enough to walk on her own.