Closed Your Wicked Ways

[Elias Caldera]

10th day of Winter, 517 Av

WarningThis thread may contain a degree of raunchiness not suitable for the faint of heart.

A stride as lean as it was purposeful carried the scarred swordsman across the city streets that night, his blackened armor a mere blur of shadows lost in the darkness as he moved.
Prowling through dank alleyways and shrouded canals with a grace only a natural born son of Ravok could ever hope to master, his haste bore him through Rhysol’s holy sanctum with a speed sired by impatience.

In Elias's mind his goal was clear, as was his intent as the warrior hurried towards its end with an eager -if not desperate- fervor fueling his step. Few noticed his late night passing as he hurtled towards his destination, and those that did went out of their way to ignore it lest his attentions fall upon them in return. There had been one point where a patrol of the city guard took interest as he passed, but that quickly subsided when they realized he was part of Ravok’s most venerated and holy order of warriors. They gave him awkward looks from beneath the crimson of their caps, even going so far as to give a cordial nod in his direction, but Elias sneered and ignored them. He had no time for their ilk, nor anything else for that matter. His was a matter of import that could not be tarried upon, not any longer.

Elias swept around one corner after the other, finding his footing had to be more and more deft now that he’d entered the notorious plaza of dark delights. While the rest of the city went quiet as the sun made its last gasps upon the horizon, things were quite different here in Ravok’s red light district. The night was when this place came alive and a splendor of sights and sounds filled every street from here to Corrin’s Crossing. Now, in this waning hour, those that danced amidst the plethora of vice and sin only grew in number and audacity as the bells grew late and Leth took his seat upon the shimmering throne in the sky above.

With one final shove, the Caldera freed himself from a roving crowd of particularly giddy sailors and their scantly clad escorts who’d taken it upon themselves to invite the pale rogue into their party despite his haunting demeanor and sinister objections. Escaping their clutches and the thick cloud of citrus smoke they left in their raucous wake, the mage finally found himself nearing his target.

He could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he neared the alleyway’s obscure entrance, and he knew full well it wasn’t because he was tired. In fact, it was quite the opposite he had to admit. “An entire season…” He muttered under his breath, reminding himself of how long he’d been denied this…

Finally, after so long, it was happening.

With hands tightening into white knuckled fists as he rounded the dark and seedy entranceway that led to the alley, the stryfer felt his breath catch in an instant.

There she was, standing there… waiting.

For him.

He’d wondered if she would even come, if the poor woman would even care to muster the will or the want to face him again despite the sincerity in which he’d tried to convey through his letter. He still had his doubts, and the fact that she had not noticed him yet from the other end of the narrow passage gave him an opportunity to assuage them he could not overlook. All at once the world shattered in an explosion of color and madness as the sorcerer embraced the sight beyond sight and stared deep into the aura of the one he’d come to claim that night. Within moments he could sense from her dancing, jittery hues a myriad of emotions that served to paint a picture of clarity for the one who studied them. In it, he could feel… unease in the girl. A disquieted nervousness that permeated every breath and shiver she made. There was more though, something else that found the soldier’s boots moving on their own towards her as he pried apart the aura like layers to find what he sought beneath. Anxiety, dread, regret, Elias pushed past them all, impatiently rending them asunder until at last he found it…

Excitement.

Once the aurist had latched unto that, the others came more easily into his periphery now. There was an eagerness underneath it all, an apprehensive but daring hunger that the Ravokian knew all too well for he felt the same thing raging within him as he gazed upon the slave from afar.

Not so far anymore as it happened, as his pace had quickened with the realization. She hadn't noticed his approach yet, good. Elias saw his opportunity and took it with hesitation. He pounced, one hand sliding itself around her neck while took her waist as he pressed himself against her from behind with all the restraint and poise he could rally. The rashness of his move should have shocked even him, but while his gall may have been without measure, it paled in comparison to his desire.

“I have you now.” He whispered over the din of party goers and drunken fools in the distance. His breath was hot and shameless upon her neck as he tightened his hold.

“Shiress.”

[Shiress]

Shiress pressed herself deeper into the shadows, as yet another drunken sod stumbled into the alley. The man rebounded off the wall before steadying himself with one hand, as the other fumbled at his crotch. The Slave turned away as the sound of the man relieving himself reverberating through the passage. Once the man vacated the area, rejoining his fellow drunkards with a yell and thunderous laughter, her nervous pacing began again.

What am I doing? she wondered, not for the first time, nor the last.

As Shiress paced, her fingers played against the parchment in the pocket of the green and gold cotton dress she had donned for the occasion -It was a simple thing, lacking for elegance, but it was the best the Slave owned, and it was the darkest in color. The mysterious letter, addressed simply to 'Shiress', had arrived two days earlier, pinned to a dress among laundry that Shiress had hung out to dry. It had come as a shock to see who had sent it, and Shiress found herself reading and rereading the words several times before even contemplating the invitation they gave.

The Slave had never thought of hearing from, let alone seeing, the Ebonstryfe soldier again.

She had left the man tangled in blankets, seemingly asleep, with a whispered appeal of thanks, and had slipped from the brothel deep in the night. The Slave had hoped to make it home before her master, but her hope was in vain. Lifting a hand, Shiress trailed a fingertip along the still visible lash mark that had licked across her jawline, but the Slave's lips curled in a smile, remembering. It had been well worth a whipping.

Within the season that followed, Shiress had convinced herself that the man had been grateful, enthralled in the moment, but nothing more. But then she received the letter. Her fingers tightened around the parchment, as if to reassure herself that it was a true thing -a true intent.

So, here she stood, no doubt inviting her master's ire once again, but the temptation of Elias Caldera was worth the ire and the tedious and fearful escape from a darkened cottage and a slumbering master. The way he had touched her body, had owned her body, that night was a memory rare to stray from the surface of her thoughts. The way Elias had worked his chiseled body against hers, taking her to that place of ecstasy time and time again was...Shiress was wrenched from her reverie by a gloved hand slithering around her neck, a moment later another took her about the waste. Shiress froze in terror, but then he spoke.

Sighing out the breath that had taken refuge in her chest, Shiress' body yielded to the embrace, her head falling back against a leather clad chest. "Elias" she breathed, solace and anticipation warring for dominance of her tone. In an instant, her slender form twisted around in the man's familiar grip, eyes seeking out the hard features of a soldiers face, but his face was veiled in shadow, save the corner of one cornflower blue eye. This was enough of the man to send the Slave that was Shiress fleeing away, as the woman that she was shimmered into being behind the emerald gaze that had locked onto him.

For an instant, she was unsure, a streak of doubt coursing down her spine, but then she smiled, truly smiled, for the first time in such a long, long time. Grabbing two dainty fistfuls of leather over Elias's chest, Shiress pulled the Ebonstryfe soldier down, closing the distance from her lips to his, with a hard, passionate kiss that left no room for denial from Elias Caldera.

Beautiful Boxcode Credit: Rohka

[Elias Caldera]

To taste her lips upon his once more, to have her in his arms again… how long had he been denied this?

How long had his thoughts been wracked with hopes and prayers for a moment just like this one? Ever since their night together, Elias had been a man starved, driven mad with a hunger he could not sate, and tormented by a longing he could not satisfy. She plagued his dreams and waking moments with unrelenting bliss, and the swordsman found he could do little but suffer in delight under the memories of their past passion. Fierce and undeniable, Shiress had driven him to the brink, and for what felt like a lifetime, she’d left him dangling there, burning for more. He wondered if she knew, if this had been her plan all along. Then again, it wasn’t as if their time apart had been the slave’s doing. No, that had been his blunder, but it didn’t matter, not now when he had her in his hands again. Already he could feel the fire in his chest raging anew, and the flames cared not for regrets and questions, only that they be quenched.

Their kiss had started passionately, rough and desperate, as if to make up for so long a time apart, and yet the way their tongues danced together in vigorous union felt as if they’d hardly missed a beat since the last time.

For a long time since he’d left the letter, he’d wondered if she’d even show up, yet now he knew what a fool he’d been to doubt the Zeltivan. After that night, he should have understood full well Shiress was no skittish deer fleeing from the huntsman’s crosshair. No, she was not a thing to be chased and cornered, Shiress was the same lioness he’d met in the market so long ago, cloaked in lambs clothing yet just as fierce as he remembered. Whatever it was her demeanor belied, she was a woman who knew what she wanted, and just how to get it. A fact made all the more evident by the fingers digging ever deeper into his chest as she pulled him into their embrace. She’d been waiting for this moment just as badly as he had, he could tell, and the Caldera could kick himself for taking so long before the two could share this moment.

His hand slid to the back of her neck as he leaned in, lengthening their kiss and magnifying it into something wild and savage. The stryfer wanted to devour the slave, to drink her in with every pulse of their tongues, but he knew if he let this hunger inside him have its fill, it wouldn’t be long before he was tearing at her clothes and pinning her against the wall, his name an endless moan upon her lips against a tempest of thrusts.

With a pained effort the Caldera broke away, but not before trapping her quivering lower lip in between his teeth, teasing out the end of their kiss for as long as he dared.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He whispered, his forehead leaning against hers, their wet lips mere inches apart. He’d removed the hood of his cloak to reveal the pale, scarred face beneath, and the look in his eyes as he stared into Shiress’s was one of barely caged lust. “I’d feared you’d forgotten me.” He tried to grin, to take away from the craving in his glare as their bodies hovered on the precipice, but it was impossible to hide what he was feeling, and that lack of control was driving him mad. He was a soldier, he was always meant to be in command… and more than that, he was Elias petching Caldera, he couldn’t afford to not have everything under his control. Yet this woman had done something to him, something none other had accomplished before when she’d so easily wrested his good sense from him with but a simple kiss.

“I’ve not forgotten about you,” he breathed, grip tightening around her waist as he held at bay the desire to see her skirt hefted above her hips. Tenderly, his fingers moved up to her face instead, to the faded scar above her ear. “Not you, nor your reward.” He waited for her reaction, to study how she took the news. Would there be delight and jubilation, or mistrust and hesitancy.

It wasn’t a lie, but with the way Shiress had undone all of his defenses so easily already, the Ravokian felt the need to be particularly careful. He couldn’t risk losing her now, not after everything.

“I’ve been working on a means to set you free, Shiress.”

[Shiress]

The man was poison to the Slave. A remedy for the woman, but yet deadly to the slave.

He had found her need.

Unbeknownst to himself, Elias had freed the woman already. Long deprived by chains and whip, Shiress had been set free and like a wild animal, she had responded with ferocious intent to this freedom and she would not be contained.

Not now.

Not with him.

With every turn and twist of her tongue against his, she beckoned him, begged him, wanted him. Shiress reveled in the taste of his kiss, the feel of Elias's lips, his flesh, against her's. Elias propelled her into near madness with the want that he created within her. Pressing her slim form harder into his, she wanted more -demanded- more, as her tongue probed deeper and fought more vigorous against his.

It was because of this that rage boiled within her core as the kiss broke. Hot breaths released in gasps against Elias's lips, then found the sensitive flesh of his neck, as a stray hand slid down his flat, leather clad stomach to his thigh. Shiress could feel his desire there, stretching against the material that contained him. Still, she teased him, stroking just beyond that desire, as he spoke to her, green eyes boring into his blue, desperately seeking out his true intent.

Hesitantly, the tantalizing hand retreated back the way it had come, until it rested beside the other against Elias's chest. "I will always come to you" she whispered, eyes searching the man's features. Elias had only to call on her, to send her word, and she would find a way to come to him. Shiress knew it to be true, but just didn't know why it was true. Where had such sudden loyalty come from, to a man she hardly knew? But as she gazed into those blue eyes, she didn't care why or how, Shiress just knew this man had her complete loyalty.

Lifting a trembling hand to the man's scared cheek, Shiress smiled. "Whether it be in want, or in need, if you call on me, Elias, I will always come to you." she added, then pressed her lips gently to his mouth, her tongue playing against his lips in silent appeal for entry. Shiress' kiss was different this time, meaningful and precise, her tongue exploring his mouth slowly, savoring the taste of him.

Pulling away, Shiress studied the man's eyes, as if she might see in them the answers she sought, or perhaps hoping to glimpse what in Elias had so fully and completely drawn her to him, and what had so emboldened her to claim his life from an assassin's blade. But, in those eyes, she found only the fierce need that mirrored her own.

"How could I forget about you?" Shiress nearly moaned the words as she spoke them "you've given me my reward, once and now twice." She darted in, running her tongue along his lips. "How could I expect anything more?" His next words, however in the clutches of passion she was, gave her pause.

Set you free

It hurt her to hear it. The word rebounded off the partitions of her mind, unable to find purchase. Did she want freedom? Did she want to leave Sayana, the only person with whom she found acceptance? The only person that could, would, ever love her? But...wasn't -this- acceptance, or only a man's need? What would her Mistress do without her? What would she do without her Mistress?

A sudden and dizzying confusion wracked her thoughts and a weakness overcame her body. Shiress fell into Elias, the grip she held against his chest tightening in an attempt to stay upright. Momentarily disoriented, Shiress quickly offered a distraction, fervently praying this moment would go unnoticed. Sliding her hands up along Elias's neck, the woman gave herself completely to the desire she felt for this man, forgetting any question, or fear, letting go any doubt or concern. Shiress gave herself, completely.

She wanted Elias and she would have him.

Sliding her hands up along the man's neck, she leaned close, whispering seductively against his ear "You've already set me free, Elias."

Shiress let herself fall from the man's embrace, mouth, lips, and tongue working in the wake of disrobing fingertips, ignoring all that surrounded her. Shiress found him ready and desirous, and she took him, all of him, slowly sheathing him between her lips.

And slow was her departure.

Beautiful Boxcode Credit: Rohka

[Elias Caldera]

“What are y- Oh!”

He had known enough to know he should have expected something was coming. Her tender heart and inviting charm belied the wicked seductress hiding beneath it all, and he had been blessed to know that side of her once before. He should have been ready for it again, but this…

“Oh god…”

He hadn’t been ready for this.

The world seemed to lose all color and meaning as Shiress fell to her knees before the scarred warrior, her tantalizing lips parting wide to consume him whole. He stiffened as the alley around them was gone in an instant, and all of Ravok -its sights, its smells, its sounds- crumbled away into obscurity alongside it, leaving just the two of them alone in a void born of her sultry kiss. The Ravokian cared for nothing and no one then, all his troubles a distant afterthought as he focused solely on the deep emerald eyes looking back up at him. “Temptress.” He sighed though clenched teeth, eyes closing as instinct guided a hand to the side of her head, only to halt just short of grabbing tight her auburn locks between his fingers. It was all he could do to keep from bucking his hips like a wild stallion against her lashing tongue, and he dared not move another muscle despite himself, for what choice did he have? What man would be so foolish as to interrupt work so heavenly? To have gone against something so positively perfect, so inconceivably right, was sheer madness, yet madness was exactly what took hold of him as Shiress made her desires clear and claimed her prize.

Like a ship caught in the storm, the swordsman had lost himself in her embrace. Helpless and hopeless to resist, the Caldera could do little against the tormenting tide as he was tossed and turned with every teasing twist of her tongue. With a grunt, he slammed his fist against the wall, leaning his head heavily against it as he felt himself succumbing to the tempest-tost seas roiling within. The waves of lust threatened to drag the soldier under and see him drowned in her devious craving, and for a moment, Elias knew he would have it no other way.

It was only for a moment.

With little warning, Elias’s grip upon Shiress’s satin mane went rigid and painfully tight. No care or passion went into his touch as he dragged her up from her knees and unto her feet again, his eyes locking with hers as the two were made level. “Free?” He sneered through scarred lips. With a roughness she’d never felt from him before, Shiress was spun around and shoved harshly against the alley wall. Before she had a chance to protest, her dress was flung up and out of the way, leaving her backside bare and exposed to his ravenous machinations. She’d worn something tight and scandalous under her dress just for him, knowing full well she’d lose it in the carnage they'd hoped to unleash. She was right, and her undergarments were gone with a sudden and violent jerk as the Stryfer pressed himself into her from behind. Elias leaned in close, shoving his weight against her as the reigns he’d made out of her auburn hair was given another forceful tug. “You are anything but, slave!”

Anger brimmed in his tone, hot and seething as it left his lips and burned into her neck. His demeanor had become dark and dangerous, and one born a genuine distaste. She’d stolen something from him. Something he hadn’t realized he cherished so much until it was gone. Not his wits, nor his authority or his control. No, he’d give her all those and more if she but asked for it, such was her dominion over his longing. What she had stolen, in those few precious moments they’d lingered upon each other’s breathless words, was his respect for her.

He’d seen her hesitance, felt her dismay and confusion as the subject of freedom arose amidst their trembling touches, and despite his better judgement, he’d fallen headfirst into her bewildering snare and let himself be distracted all the same. Elias had seen broken slaves before. Hell, he'd done his fair share of shattering in the past. Shiress, despite her timid nature and servile tact was not just another simpering slave. He'd seen that spark of defiance blazing in her as clear as the sun, and yet even now she clung to the vale of subservience as if nothing else mattered. Liberation itself was at hand, and she cared not! It was only on the verge of utter and explosive collapse had he seized enough wherewithal to understand he was being distracted. To say what this night was turning into hadn’t been his deepest desire would have been a bold face lie, even for Elias, but there was something more he felt for this slave girl who’d bumped into him that faithful day, something he could no longer tolerate being buried and smothered anymore.

“You cannot feel the shackles that envelope you!” He snarled, thrusting against her now. They were so close, so painfully close it was intoxicating beyond all reason. Like two infernos brought to bear against one another, the heat threatened to burn him to cinders. Throbbing and straining against an unbearable pressure, he could feel her readiness as his length slid against her with a sweltering caress. With her mouth, the slave had made sure he too was just as slick and properly prepared, and thus all was arranged and primed for their powerful union to be made true, and yet Elias denied her -denied them both- what he knew they needed most.

“You cannot comprehend the chains that strangle your every thought.” The sorcerer growled over her shoulder, towering over her slender frame with an air of unquestioning force that left little room for defiance. His hand refused to remain idle as his words took root, raking up across her stomach and the shivering flesh it hid beneath before eventually coming to rest upon the collar of her dress. He yanked it down with a bestial urgency, releasing her breasts to the still night air with little grace or courtesy. Now there was nothing of her left sacred before him. All was ripe for the plunder, and he hoped she realized how pitifully helpless she truly was. He needed her to understand.

“You cannot see, but I can.

You master has bound you in ribbons of silk and satin, only to convince you to buckle under the weight of steel.” His fingers, ever merciless, trickled from her chest where it had cruelly pinched and played with her nipples, before choosing next to slither between her legs. “You mind is poisoned, Shiress! Sick with magic ministered by the whims of a hypnotist most cruel and conniving. I know this, because the Eypharian tried to use her arcane devilry on my thoughts as well, and I see her same witchcraft in you.” The six-armed sorceress had stolen the slave’s will, there was no doubt in his mind. What else could explain the fiery Zeltivan's unfathomable attempt to divert attention away from his grand gift? No, he knew the outsider had snatched better judgement from her slave like a thief in the night, and now Elias could no longer bear to see the miserable creature Sayana’s corruption had wrought.

“You told me once, all you saw in yourself was a slave. Is that truth? Is there no more to the woman who wrested me from death’s embrace? Is there no more to the woman I now teeter upon the brink of beautiful oblivion with? If so, then get back on your knees, slave, so that I may use you and be done with you, for I have no time or patience for cattle!” He pushed her harder against the unforgiving brick and mortar of their stage, pressing her face against it in a demonstration of dominance as his fingers sunk themselves deep.

His voice, restless and bitter, shifted into something almost desperate as his lips danced across the lobes of her ear. “But if you are more… if you are the woman I know you to be underneath all this deceit and trickery, then show me…

Show me who you are, Shiress.

Show me I was right about you!”

[Shiress]

Nothing had gone unnoticed...

The foolish slave should have known better than to think that a man like Elias Caldera would be easily deceived by one such as her. She, in fact, was the one that had been deceived. Thoroughly and utterly deceived, Shiress realized, as the man's agonizing grip forced her head back to look at him. The face in which she now gazed upon was a stranger's face, gone were the familiar features of the man Shiress thought she knew. In its place, a mask of unconcealed anger and disgust sneered down at her.

It nearly broke her to see it.

Shiress tried to speak, an apology forming on her tongue, but before she could utter a word she was spun around and slammed into the wall behind her. A gasping cry escaped her lips as her cheek scraped painfully against the rough, uneven edges of the stonewall. Feeling her skirt rise, Shiress pushed against the body pinning her to the wall. Feeling her underwear ripped away, she pushed again, even harder. "You don't have to do this, Elias!" she growled out the plea through gritted teeth, disheveled strands of hair flying to and from her wet lips as she spoke. She tried again to push against the man, but fell back into the wall, sucking in a painful breath, as Elias wrenched her hair painfully, and her cheek again scraped across the stone.

"You cannot feel the shackles that envelope you"

"Damn you!" She hissed, her voice climbing to a crescendo, as she spoke "I am not your slave!"

Shiress struggled against the wall, hands scrabbling up and down the stone seeking purchase to either push Elias off, or enable herself to twist around, but the soldier's hardened body against her's was like a bolder holding her in place. But, fight as she may, when she felt Elias's arousal press against the warmth that had so desperately craved him only mere moments earlier, Shiress couldn't keep herself from moaning. Such desire could not be so easily sated, for even as the slave fought against her captor, and as Elias so cruelly exploited her desire, she still wanted him. Why would he take so violently something that was given willingly?

“You cannot comprehend the chains that strangle your every thought.”

"Please don't do this..." she breathed, chest now heaving beneath her exposed and aching breast, as the man's brutal fingers found her, her struggle against his body beginning anew.

“You cannot see, but I can.

Beneath this man, Shiress was nothing -she meant nothing- She knew he would easily break her and then have his way with her. How could she have been so naive? With every word Elias spoke against her flesh, her will weakened, the fight against his vice like embrace slowed, resolve slowly ebbing away.

"Your master has bound you in ribbons of silk and satin, only to convince you to buckle under the weight of steel.”

"You lie.." she moaned, feeling his hand dip between her thighs.

“Your mind is poisoned, Shiress! Sick with magic ministered by the whims of a hypnotist..."

With that, Elias broke her.

Shiress didn't need to hear anything else for the fight to completely drain away. She slumped against the wall, tears springing to her eyes. "you lie.." she said again, but the conviction in her voice was gone. Despite herself, Shiress let out an open mouth, gasping groan against the hard stone that pressed into her face, as the man's thick, gloved fingers delved deeper inside her, hips instinctively moving against the feeling, eyes closing as lips brushed against her.

At the same time something long hidden cracked within her mind. In an instant Shiress' thoughts disappeared from the present to the day she was taken by the Eypharian. A stifling fog lifted, as a deluge of images bombarded her mind; Sayana stroking her hair, even as her craft stroked her mind; the glint of Sayana's dagger claiming her eyes; a whispered will near her ear.

"I'll kill her.." she sobbed, emerald eyes opening, with a flair of fury igniting within them. The hand that had slipped, unbeknownst, from the wall to guide the hand thrusting between her legs, stiffened. "She enslaved me and I'm going to kill her..." she repeated, the sob in her voice replaced by a deadly calm. "I'll kill her!" she screamed, eliciting the attention of a stumbling drunk, passing by the mouth of the alleyway, but like any good Ravokian, he knew to move on without a word.

"You want to see something beyond deceit and trickery, Elias?" Shiress asked, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl, hands pressed against the wall before her curling into fist "Then let me go and you can watch as I shed the blood of the woman that has enslaved me!"

Beautiful Boxcode Credit: Rohka

[Elias Caldera]

She was angry.

Good.

She was bloodthirsty.

Even better.

She was still talking…

With a growl of frustration, the stryfer took violent hold of his shivering quarry once more, manhandling the raging slave as he slammed her back to the wall and forced the Zeltivan to face her accuser. Still she did not understand, and his countenance of contempt had yet to wane even in the face of her frothing fury. It would have been easy to make her recognize the lengths he expected her to go, the things he was demanding she demand of herself. All it would have took was just a bit of hypnotism, and she would see the light as he did. He knew Shiress’s mind longed for his unnatural touch as much as it did for his physical one, a ruinous remnant of her master’s mistreatment and an entirely undermining means to an end. What good would hypnotizing the woman do when he was trying to ween her off such magics in the first place? No, she needed to understand, but he could not guide her hips and show her the way as if this some ballroom dance. If Shiress truly wanted her future back, she’d need to seize it for herself. Elias’s job now was just to remind the slave that somewhere deep down, she still had the will to do it.

He could not revel in such a task, yet nor could he shy away from it. Elias was committed to this thing he’d unwittingly set in motion one wayward summer night, and his mind had been a flurry ever since she’d left him lying in that bed, alone and wanting. This wasn’t just the design of idle daydreaming. The Caldera had plans. Plans he would see fulfilled whatever the cost, and whether those costs were his burden to bear, or Shiress's did not matter in the least.

In the end, Shiress had only herself to blame for this. She’d made him do a stupid thing like care, and now there was no stopping his asperity until the spite he showered the slave in finally bore fruit. This was for her own good though, and perhaps in time, she would come to see that.

“You want blood? You want vengeance?” He barked.

A small flame, newly born of res and dimly burning, burst into existence next to Elias’s face, illuminating his unwavering angst in an unexpected flash of magical brilliance. Where once the alley had held an alluring, if not risqué appeal with its dark and secretive nature, the sudden turn of events between the two of them had drastically shifted the ambiance of their rendezvous to one of filth and animosity. The mage felt it was a setting that deserved proper lighting, and as always, his reimancy was there to provide. It was a mistake he realized only an instant later, but it was an instant too late. Stripped and seething, Shiress’s heaving bosom and palpable fervor were now given form and clarity in the suffocating darkness. To look upon her, even in her state -no, especially in her state- nearly demolished the sorcerer’s resolve right then and there. He could sense the hatred in her now just as clearly, radiating with a blistering righteousness that scoured his good senses. She had always been beautiful, but this was brimming upon unspoken territory. He hardly had a word for it, and his amazement -at not only her appearance, but his hardening reaction to it- was stupefying to say the least. That said, he could not let it hinder his course, for amidst the hatred, there too bubbled a nauseating concoction of other distracting emotions that threatened to send the tormented woman spiraling out of control, and it showed in her ever darkening glare.

She was so close. He dared not falter now.

As the alleyway grew just a bit less grim, though none the less intense, Elias wasted no time as he reached forth with one hand to capture the girl by her throat.

“You can’t even free yourself from this wall!” He spat incredulously. “Words are wind, fickle and fleeting. You want your freedom, yet still you stand there asking for it.” Their positions may have changed, but as he peered down at the slave, his chin held high and imperious, it was clear nothing else was different. She was still in his grasp.

Still at his mercy.

He leaned in close then, their lips barely a breath apart as he whispered. “I’m going to petch you, girl.” His words were dire and malevolent. “Not as equals like when we first met.” His tongue struck out, lasciviously tracing the new lash mark on her chin. “No, I’m going to petch you like a master does his slave…”

“Now what the petch are you going to do about it?”

[Shiress]

Shiress's emerald gaze flicked from the unnatural light back to the mage who had cast it, large, dejected tears rolling from her widened eyes. The slaves mind was a sudden battlefield, where her heart and her thoughts fought for supremacy. The look on Elias's face illuminated by his magic was intense, harsh, and nearly had the slave cowering before him. Shiress knew the man spoke truly of her Mistress, she could remember now the times her craft was used, but this...from him?

"She whipped me.." she said, the redness surrounding the iris of her eyes, setting off their green hue as if Syna's rays had caught an emerald jewel, "she whipped me because of you..." her tone was flat, unemotional "because I helped you and your boy, she beat me until I told her the truth, but you know what, Elias?" Shiress met the blue gaze of the man whose hand pressed against her throat, lips curling into a resemblance of a snarl through the plethora of emotion playing out on her features, unshed tears quivering in her eyes "I lied for you and told her that I had been overtaken and robbed.." Shiress's nails dug into what ever flesh she could find as she held fast the hand threatening to cut off her breath."How could I have been so foolish, so stupid, to protect a man no better than the beast whose whip lashed me?"

Rearing back as far as Elias's relentless grip would allow, Shiress slammed the palm of her hand across the soldier's scarred cheek. "Damn you, Elias! she spat, surprised at how good the slap felt. With the opposite hand, Shiress struck the man again, anger seething inside her chest, even as the sting of the blows bit at her hands. Hauling in deep breaths through ribbons of chestnut hair, green eyes fixed upon Elias's blue with incredulity. "Rhysol damn you to your worst nightmare!"

Shiress knew this man, this Ebonstryfe Soldier, could lay her low with one closed fist, or even kill her with just a mere thought -she had seen him do as much with her own eyes, but such was the fury building inside her that Shiress didn't care. She had been taken from her home, mind raped, her will ripped from her...not once, but twice. After escaping Elijah Jordan's chains, Shiress had vowed never to be tethered again. So much so was her conviction that when Jordan had come to reclaim his slave, Shiress had killed her slave Master with unhinged fury.

Like a long dormant and ravenous beast, that same fury now stirred within Shiress.

"like a master does his slave…”

Elias's words struck the core of Shiress like a sword blow.

Shiress vacillated between looking pained and dazed, before going rigid in the man's grip -within the confines of her mind, something snapped with seemingly near audible sound. Shiress swayed, before regaining herself with new and violent determination. "You. Will. Not!" she snarled, unleashing a volley of blows against the man's hardened form. Fingernails raked across Elias's neck, snagging the scarf encircling it. With a jerk, Shiress snatched it off, and threw it aside, the hand coming back up in a closed fist, aiming for her attacker's head.

Not unlike a possessed woman, Shiress's body bucked and rebounded between Elias and the wall he held her against, fists, nails, and hands seeking out pale flesh, even as her knees aimed for his erect manhood. With her senses dulled with Rage and mind clouded with desperation, the slaves hand retreated from the battle and began pulling at the hilt of a dagger sheathed around her thigh.

Releasing the blade, Shiress held it out by her side, reversing the grip around its pommel, and, with a strength born of wrath, Shiress arched the weapon toward Elias's chest.

This is what I do to slave masters...

Beautiful Boxcode Credit: Rohka

[Elias Caldera]

There she is!

The first blow slid across his cheek like a wayward breeze, its victim as unmoved as granite in the face of Shiress’s impotent outburst. By the second and third however, her furor had manifested in full, stringent will and ardent purpose feeding off one another in a vicious and internal maelstrom of initiative the slave had unwittingly tapped into. Her fury gave her strength, and in her sanguine stupor, Shiress unleashed her hands upon him.

“Yes.”

Hands that had quickly turned to fists.

“Yes!”

He’d lost count early on, but her attacks were as unrelenting as they were plentiful. What was once manic and futile, had quickly evolved into frenzied and murderous, and Elias was feeling each and every one of them. A veritable storm of prying, plucking, scratching, clawing hands descended upon the Caldera, desperate to see him brought low and undone. To his shame, the warrior had been rocked early by a wicked blow to his brow. His vision had blurred and his grasp around her slender throat weakened just enough for her to break it completely. He’d hoped to withstand more, to absorb everything he could so that his tormentor could truly bask in her moment of zeal and savagery, for this a was a memory he intended for her to relieve time and time again, even if she could not recognize its importance now.

There she is. He mused once more in delight as another jaw cracking swipe threatened to bring him down.

Shiress sought to destroy her captor, to reclaim her freedom by any means, even if it meant blood, yet to the profoundness of this he was certain she was still woefully blinded to by the rage such furious violence had birthed between them. It was to be expected. In the moment, she wasn’t cowed by the cost of her actions, nor made timid by its deliberation. She just wanted off the wall, she just wanted out of bondage, out of weakness and regret. She wanted her freedom because he’d denied it to her, and so she deigned to take it!

By the time her knee had found him, the stryfer was brought to his, her onslaught finally felling the grand oak that challenged it with a satisfyingly pained gasp. Or at least it should have been satisfying for one them. Elias himself writhed in quiet agony, his head hung low and his arms draped and limp at his sides. She’d crushed him with a wrath even in his foresight he could not have anticipated.

Truly, he’d been right about this one.

He could feel her trembling with hatred as she loomed over him, the taste of blood upon his lips as tangible as the taste of it on her bone white knuckles. His auristics had never faltered, even amidst the hurricane of strikes and curses, and Elias had suffered and enjoyed the slave’s awakening twice over thanks to it. Gone were the tears and indecision, their hues dimmed and devastated by the tide of dark, angry red that surged forth to overwhelm everything else. Every thought and action held its turbulent tinge until its taint was all encompassing. To his eyes, both arcane and mortal, Shiress was a seething crimson storm of fury, unbridled, unstoppable and beautiful beyond imagining.

Then, like the crescendo of a play, came a bubble of sheer black in the middle of it all, and the aurist could sense the steel in her hands… and the death in her eyes.

The dagger’s point flew swift and true, its target his heart of all things, as if she meant to skewer and devour what was already roasting over the inferno that was his terrible yearning for this slave.

It would not be so however, as the woman would find her hand caught mere inches away from delivering the deathblow, her wrist snatched deftly and locked in place by Elias’s grip. He’d stirred from his slump, and with a rapidity born of instinct, the defense against Shiress that had been absent all throughout the assault had finally been brought to bear in it’s final moments.

With his gaze averted and his head still sunken and hidden into his chest, the soldier’s mumbling were barely audible, but as his grip tightened around her wrist, and his face slowly began to rise, Shiress would be able to hear what her stryfer was trying to say.

“There you are…”

From his place on his knees, Elias’s eyes brimmed with pride and glee, as if beholding something sentimental once thought lost forever. He smiled up at her, not as if moments before she hadn’t been the one pummeling him to a pulp, but instead as if she was the one who’d saved him from the beating. He rose suddenly with a swiftness that belied his bruised form, and still the smile persisted, even as the blood trickled from his lip. “I’d thought you lost,” He proclaimed with budding excitement, “swept beneath the currents of her will and want, but now I see the truth." With a breath, his eyes wandered over the slave, beholding the grandness he had uncovered. "I see… the real you." His smile cracked just a bit further, and considering all that had transpired, he wouldn't have blamed the girl for thinking him just a little mad. "The Shiress I caught a glimpse of at the market square. The one who saved a stranger’s life twice over with no thought of reward or want." His voice lowered. "The you I shared a night with that till my dying days I shall never forget…” He squeezed her wrist, fully expecting his words to be lost on deaf ears in the passion of the moment. It wasn’t so easy to go from murder to mere mutterings, but the mage held fast none the less, stymieing any further punches and kicks lest she never fully grasp the meaning behind his actions or the importance of hers that would follow. “Stay your hand and hear my words Shiress, I beg you, for now I see what you’re truly capable of, what you’re willing to suffer.” His gaze fell upon the blade in her captured hand, still struggling for just enough room to do its dark deed. “What you’re willing to do…”

With practiced ease, he wrested the weapon away from the slave, releasing her cautiously as he did so. He raised a placating hand to halt any further violence, even if he understood full well how infuriating and harrowing such a concept as calm could seem at the moment. “You asked me for liberation.” Elias continued, careful to steady his step. “You asked me for freedom.” As he spoke, the swordsman’s eyes deepened into something new, something more thoughtful and perhaps even compassionate. His voice’s tempo followed suit. “But they never broke you, Shiress. No matter how much they may have lashed and bound, they never broke you! Their greatest trick was merely making you believe they had.”

Slowly, confidently, he raised his hand towards her and offered not his consoling touch or soothing embrace, but instead the cold, hard steel of her dagger returned. It was hers to take, and without words, he bid her do so. Part of him struggled with the act. Not because he feared his death, but because he feared how she would consider him him when all was said and done. He asked not for forgiveness, though part of him desperately deemed it a necessity. The rest of him however, the part in control and who understood this was all a means to an end, knew that what he had done, he had done so for a reason.

“In your chest beats not the heart of the meek or the subservient. They may see you as such, like a kitten made clawless and coy, but to me, I’ve known the lion beneath and I would see it uncaged once more and forever.” He dared to take a step closer towards her, even as his bruised and aching body urged him to reconsider.

“Your path to freedom,” he continued, gently tapping the side of his head as he inched closer and closer still “begins up here.”

Emerald eyes met the ice of his blues as he drew near enough to touch. “You’ve taken the first step already.” He whispered, reaching for her hand with achingingly slow prudence. “It will not be an easy path to follow, and I fear you will have to endure more before the road reaches its end, but- I can show you the way,” Timidly, tenderly, his fingers began to intertwine with hers, testing and toying with the idea of holding her in them once more, “if you would but trust me to lead you there.”

Shiress had taken the first step. Now Elias was desperate to see what else she would take.

[Shiress]

It all came to a screeching halt.

The belligerence, the mind-numbing rage, the need for escape, it all froze into something between incredulity and terror. Heart pounding, Shiress's widened eyes focused on the black gloved hand around her wrist. Elias hadn't even raised his head, but still he had stopped the stroke that Shiress was sure he had not seen coming. So shocked she was at the man's sightless action, that when he spoke, Shiress nearly jumped out of her skin, as if he had slapped her.

Looking down at him, brows knitted together in incomprehension, her mouth slightly agape with gasping breaths of exertion. Shiress stared at the soldier rising to tower over her, his words near meaningless through the thick veil of dubiety that had suddenly descended upon the Slave. She felt herself about to be relieved of her weapon and stiffened, her free hand coming up to stifle the attempt, but Elias retained that hand, too. For just a tick, her fingers tightened around the hilt of the weapon, attempting another push downward, but as the ebbing vice of anger seeped from her body, she relented, and Shiress was rendered weaponless, her emerald eyes never leaving the soldier's face, as her visage hardened.

"What will, Elias?" Shiress growled the words out through gritted teeth "You speak of 'willing to suffer', 'willing to do', but my will was stolen from me!" Her body trembling now, Shiress desperately tried to vacate consuming fury, and allow herself understanding, but it would not come easily. She wanted to destroy Sayana for so easily storming her mind, making her a puppet to selfish and devilish whims. Despite Elias's words, the slave did feel broken. She felt beaten and whipped...and mentally sundered, shattered jaggedly down the center of the core of who she truly was, who she wanted to be, versus who Sayana had raped her mind into becoming. There were two sides to Shiress, she was broken.

Wasn't she?

Shiress squeezed her eyes closed against the torment of not understanding. How could this man take her to such heights of ecstasy one chime, then assault her in such a way the next. She hated him, she needed to hate him, and in this moment she wanted to hate this man, because the son of a bitch thought her weak, he thought her incapable, he had mistaken her to be weak, subservient, defenseless, and...but no...it didn't make sense; he had her already, completely, and in every way.

Shiress lifted narrowed eyes, head tilted slightly. Despite herself, she could feel Elias's saccharine words begin to caress something within herself, gently stroking an aspect of herself she thought lost. She studied him as he spoke, her eyes following his lips as they moved with his words and slowly Shiress understood.

Suddenly, a new awareness dawned, mingling with what the Ebonstryfe soldier declared. Shiress knew then what this man had done; Elias had awakened her, he had awakened the one thing in her core that lay beneath a mask of witchery. This man had assaulted the weak, defenseless slave, he had gained control of that servant, beat the subservience down, and had held it beneath his own will, allowing the woman...allowing Shiress to finally move past and step forward. Elias had unmasked Shiress's will, and the fight still strong within it, and offered it back to her in the only way he knew that her crafted mind would receive it -unwillingly.

Shiress nearly buckled beneath this realization.

"You think me truly this strong?" the words spoken were muffled beneath the hand that now enclosed her mouth. Looking down, this battered slave watched as the so familiar black gloved fingers slid between her own "I cant endure much more, Elias. The thought of Saya..." words trailed off as Shiress retained herself, with a breath she continued "it frightens me, the thought of myself stripped so easily." Emerald eyes lifted then, meeting the cobalt blue of her newly found warrior, a silent vow glistening within their brilliance.

Without a word, the slave threw herself into Elias's arms, her need pulling his hardened body against her's. Shiress wanted this man, she needed him, she needed to feel what this soldier offered her. Her body longed to feel the truth in his words. Shiress melted into him, basking in the protection that he offered her, begging the firm body against her own to tell her, show her, that his words were true, that what she feared the most was, indeed, possible.

"Elias..

Pulling back slightly, Shiress lost herself for a long time in those familiar blue orbs, both hands alighting on each of the man's scarred cheeks, thumbs resting at the corner of his lips. Shiress's eyes danced across his features, and with a soft smile, her fingertip swiped away the blood from the corner of Elias's mouth. Gently, she pressed her lips to his, her tongue offering a silent apology as it darted across the crimson stain on his mouth, then forced its way between his bruised lips. The woman let herself be washed away in the meaning of this kiss and she could only hope that somehow Elias might know, for she had no words in that moment to tell him.

She felt like she should apologize, for she felt remorse for what she had done, but what would that do to what Elias had done for her? Should she apologize for something that may have just saved her life? Shiress pulled her lips just a hair length from his, her breaths hot against his mouth, but instead of the apology her mind encouraged her to say, Shiress listened to her heart...for once.

"I trust you."

Beautiful Boxcode Credit: Rohka