Whispers of Deception

I fear I am ambling toward death
Each chime of the shackles bound to me
'tis quite like a lulling melody
A lament of my grief

The rumours are true, however
I am the offspring of destruction
I am bred from utter Chaos
And I claim my title as its daughter

My sins cannot be redeemed
Nor my wounds and scars cicatrized
I'll carry these burdens burned into my flesh
Until my grave, whereupon I shall inscribe my sorrow

I have no need for redemption
For the cycle shall turn again as a waterwheel
A kin of kindling flame
Our embers cease to dwindle or quench

Such divine torture
And I am to endure
This punishment of inheritance
As I wade deeper into blood

I bid thee farewell

. . .

Shaky hands grasp the delicate parchment as the words seep into the girl's mind. She restrains herself from reading it over again, for she knows the message will remain the same. "What sort of prophecy is this?" The girl says aloud, her voice unheard in the dense forest. Lowering her voice, she murmurs, "'Tis an undesired death wish." The girl, Elsif, hides the letter away in her layered garb and takes a deep breath, revelling in the crisp air and the scent of leaves.
Concentrating the energy that dwells within her spirit, Elsif feels a spark of arcane power as it spreads array. The energy reaches outward like frantic fingers as Elsif regains her true form, tearing through her skin and revealing her very spirit. She takes the form of a brilliantly hued fox as the embodiment of Inception. Finding her grounds, Elsif hurries to where she knows Valia, the sender of the letter, has most likely been taken. Fear rises within her at the thought of Valia confronting the Queen of Death, for according to the tales, there have been very few survivors that leave her kingdom. The Queen uses chains to imprison her victims; the shackles are said to restrict a victim's soul within the Queen's fallen kingdom, or so the rumours say.
Elsif continues to dash through the forest of Eldera, grateful for her spiritual form that allows her to move at incredible speeds. She can only hope that she arrives before it is too late.
Distance passes fast, but time passes faster as Elsif continues her travel. She slows as a shadow suddenly eclipses the ground where she stands. Looking up, Elsif nearly freezes as a vast span of crows overlay the sky; possibly thousands of the ebony birds glide overheard like a contagious plague. She recognizes the crows, as well as who they belong to, but above all the meaning they represent—the Queen has taken another victim to the pathway to the underworld.
Elsif's paws begin digging at the ground as she sprints forward in a flash, running as fast as her form will let her toward the Queen of Death's fallen kingdom. Elsif can barely think as she hurries, even of the consequences she will endure for entering her Queen's kingdom, or of the fact that she will have to face her Queen in a moment of disloyalty. What little thought she has is for Valia, and for Valia only. The last time Elsif has seen her was three days prior, when Valia left with the slightest valediction or explanation, merely promising that will return. She had appeared troubled and always suffocated her lies with a faint smile.
Her mind distantly wanders to the words in the letter, delivered by the raven. In the message, Valia revealed that she is really Chaos' true form, meaning she originates from the Netherworld, land of the dead. For Valia, a seemingly innocent human with only strong motives and dominating restlessness, being the daughter of Chaos seems absurd to Elsif, as she has never once detected any seeds of destruction, let alone witness Valia wreak havoc upon the land—the supposed morals of Chaos. A pang of concern hits Elsif as she subconsciously wonders why Valia kept her real identity hidden from her for so long, though she quickly brushes it off as she figures Valia must have had a reason.
As Elsif arrives upon the gates, she growls in frustration when an idea to enter does not appear, for the gates are not of simple metal and padlock. Worse yet, two guards stand at either side; their black armour menacingly intimidating for it masks every one of their features. Elsif's suspicion of the sentries being something other than human rises as they begin speaking in a raspy voice that could shatter one's strongest determination.
"A fool has entered thy Queen's sacred palace."
The other replies with a short snicker, "I heard 'twas a girl who refuses to reveal her true form. Who would wish to rot as a scraggly human rather than an honourable sacred beast?"
"As I said, a fool," the guard responds shortly once again; a man of few words.
A growl unintentionally tears throughout Elsif's chest as the guards' brief conversation vexes her, the sound alerting the armoured sentries.  
"Hm, another intruder."
Her breathing ceases as she attempts to conceal herself behind a tangle of undergrowth, her wary eyes examining the guards as they begin patrolling the area, searching for their intruder. She knows they had been speaking of Valia; the description fit exactly. Valia has remained in her human form for most of her later life for reasons even Elsif is still unsure of.
Once the sentries clear from her peripheral sight, Elsif leaps out from the undergrowth, landing on her four feet lightly, and races to the gates in pure determination. She is merely several lengths from the gates when the guards turn in suspicion and immediately trap her.
The rather talkative sentry muses, "What is this? A snack for the ghouls?"
Elsif's mind collides in a frantic rush of adrenaline as she searches for a way to not only evade the guards, but enter the kingdom of the Death Queen.
Before she can find a solution, the other guard growls, "Silence. Can you not see? This creature is a descendant of the hierarchs."
The other guard responds, "The hierarchs?" Turning to face Elsif, the guard demands, "Give your name, infidel."
Elsif remains silent, glowering at the armoured sentries. She itches to return to her human form, but knows that will only allow the guards to attain exactly what they want. Even if she wishes to speak, as a spirit, communication is limited and specific, more so as a fox.
When it is clear no reply will be offered, the guards unsheathe their blades, revealing arcane swords that seem to emanate the very essence of death, a bloodred sheen coating an ebony blade only intensifying the feeling. "Very well, infidel. Prepare thyself to be presented to our Queen as a blood offering."
"Heh, a fur pelt from the very skin of a hierarch will delight our honourable sovereign."
Though their words are gruesome, their intentions are potentially naught, for Elsif suddenly realizes a debatable method to overcome the guards. Leaping forward, Elsif pounces on the few-worded guard and sinks her teeth into the crook of his neck. Instead of a reaction, the guard immediately plucks her from his shoulder and begins strangling her. Elsif's snarl is cut off as her breathing restricts beneath the sentry's hand.
"Hold it still, I'll cut off its head," the other guard says.
"Step away."
The other sentry hesitates at his command before reluctantly lowering his blade and backing away. "What is it?"
The guard's hand is still locked around Valia's throat, though his grip has relented slightly. Quietly, the sentry rasps, "Even if this girl deems an infidel, she must have reason to enter thy Queen's kingdom. Tell me, infidel, who do you serve?"
Elsif snaps her jaws at the sentry, her eyes flashing viciously. She wishes to scream at them, to demand that they shall not endanger Valia or even so much as lay a finger on her, but her form does not allow more than a snarl to rip from her throat. Elsif struggles to contain her vulnerable human self, fighting to submerge the overwhelming urge to shift back. Instead, she sinks her teeth into the guard's hand around her throat, and the impact to the metal gauntlet sends a sharp pain reverberating throughout her skull, though she does not release her grasp.
The other sentry laughs as he notices her seemingly futile action, but stops short as he realizes the solemn rigidness of his companion. A loud crack splits the sudden silence as Elsif's aching fangs penetrate the silver gauntlet, her teeth sinking into a cold void. The pure nothingness startles her, and she immediately pulls back, the guard finally releasing her as his hand exposes—a phantom mass of lurid matter that extends to long, claw-like fingers.
The guard examines his broken gauntlet and inspects his translucent hand, clenching it into a fist. "Impressive, infidel," he rasps. "However, 'tis only a mere scratch. Even if you manage to crumble mine entire armour to dust, there is naught you can do, for I am all but intangible to objects of this world."
The other sentry, who stands several lengths away, slowly raises his sword and adds, "Even our blades are forged from the bloodied bones of demons. You are no match against those who spawn from the underworld, and stand no chance against those who serve the Queen."
"Stop!"
The trio all simultaneously turn to face the source of the commotion—a young boy with ebony wings that protrude from tattered cloaks and sashes that hang from his delicate frame. He approaches at an alarmingly swift pace and halts before the guards, dropping to a bow and respectfully delivers his message. "The Queen grants passage to..." he trails off as he glances around in bemusement. The boy's eyes land on Elsif and he lowers his head in a silent honour. Speaking directly to her now, he says, "The Queen has expressed her desire to grant you access to her kingdom. With permission, I dutifully allow you to cross these gates." Rising to his feet, he dips his head once again as apology to the guards. "I came as fast as I could. I hope no harm has been caused in my absence."
Both sentries remain silent until the one whose hand remains grotesquely exposed responds, "It has been settled."
The boy gives a final nod to the sentries before meeting Elsif's eyes. "Come with me," he commands.
Elsif warily glances at the guards as she reluctantly allows the ebony-winged boy through the gates, their shielded stares penetrating her even through their menacing helms. Elsif keeps a careful distance from the boy as he leads her to a bridge that extends to such a vastness that the other end is clouded in a distant fog.
The boy suddenly halts slightly ahead of Elsif, and without facing her, he assures in a low murmur, "'Tis safe here. You may return to your other form, if you wish."
Elsif accepts the child's words and withdraws her inner spirit, shedding the appearance like a haze until she is once again standing as a human. The young boy confirms her transformation and turns to face her, his innocent eyes seeming to see either right through or directly past her. Elsif expresses, "You have my gratitude for saving me."  She realizes the irony in her words as soon as they leave her mouth, for she has not been saved, but exempted from an immediate death instead. Being welcomed into the kingdom of the dead is far from salvation—rather, it is a silent torture that will have its victims pleading for death.
The boy looks down shyly and replies, "Your gratitude should be saved for our Queen. 'Twas her who allowed you entrance; I am only a messenger."
Elsif notices his wings once again, and she knows, despite his adolescent appearance that could be thought of no more than twelve years of age, that the boy can possibly be centuries old. "You are faithful to the Queen," Elsif says, not particularly as a question or a compliment.  
The boy does not reply, instead he says, "My name is Deimos. Follow me." Turning ahead, he begins to cross the bridge without so much as glancing behind him.
Elsif remains a safe distance from Deimos as she stares out at the kingdom ruins, where crows litter the collapsed stone walls and tangled tree branches. The black birds watch from their perches as Elsif and Deimos cross the bridge, almost every pair of onyx eyes fixed on her, likely speculating her fleshly form hungrily. Corpses that are strewn throughout the kingdom's abandoned battlefields have long since decayed to crumbling bones, though the crows yet wait for another victim to satisfy their famine.
"Is it true that you are a descendent of the hierarchs?" Deimos asks, interrupting Elsif's thoughts.
She had heard the sentries utter the term earlier, though she assumes it is simply a title given by those derived from the Netherworld. "I am Inception's embodiment. That is all."
Deimos goes silent for a moment before accepting her answer with a nod. "Our Queen usually refuses outsiders such as you. I wonder why she granted you entrance..." Glancing behind him, Deimos' eyes widen and he hastily apologizes. "Ah, sorry! 'Tis simply unexpected to see an outsider welcomed by our Queen without a formal notification."
Elsif hums lowly, and then responds, "I am not a stranger. Your Queen is mine as well."
Deimos abruptly halts, nearly stumbling over his own feet. "I thought your loyalty lies someplace else," he questions. "Despite your denial, you are a descendant of the hierarchs, are you not? Why do you side with Death and her descendents of the Netherworld?"
"'Tis not my choice, but a twisted fate. That is all I will say, if I have not already told too much. Now, tell me, where am I being led?" Elsif inquires, changing the subject as she looks beyond the fallen pillars and crumbling walls at a vast forest beyond. Behind her, the bridge is still clouded by a thick haze, although this time its density rests on the side they initially crossed.  
"...Our Queen has strict orders to keep you currently contained within her palace. I am to take you beneath its surface until she is finished with her... guest."
Elsif falters in her pace before quickly recovering as panic begins to infiltrate her mind; she silently hopes for Valia to escape her Queen before it is too late. "No."
Deimos suddenly turns to face her, his seemingly vacant eyes staring patiently.
"Take me to her."
The black-winged boy lowers his head respectfully and murmurs, "Our Queen is merciless to those who confront her. 'Tis unthinkable to interrupt—"
"I am not talking about the Death Queen," Elsif interjects, gazing at the forest which lies beyond. "Valia. That is the name of the Queen's captive. Take me to her."
"I cannot do that, for she is presently with our Queen. The consequences would be gruesome—as corporal punishment, my wings would be stripped."
"I am aware of the consequences. If I must, I shall endure it all—'tis little more with what I bear now."
"Please, do not underestimate our Queen. You will only fall to your own suicide."
Elsif urges, "I have no concern of the Queen's wrath. I must rescue her—Valia, at all costs."
Deimos hesitates, contemplating Elsif's words. "Very well, I shall take you to the brink of the forest. But I give my warning, it may very well be too late."
"I shall defy time then," Elsif whispers. Glancing at Deimos, she watches as his eyes suddenly reflect a suppressed message. Before she can question the faint alertness, pain erupts throughout her body and she collapses to the cold kingdom stone, immediately blacking out.




"Wake up, prisoner. The Queen waits," rasps a guard from a close distance.
Elsif abruptly rises to her feet, taking in her surroundings; a bare cell with only remnants of blood spattered on the ground and walls. She realizes she has been taken to the Queen of Death's prison cells located beneath the ruined palace. Deimos is nowhere to be seen.
"The Queen will arrive shortly. Follow me," the guard commands gruffly.
"Where is Deimos?"
"I have heard of no such name. Do not waste my time."
She stands her ground, further inquiring, "Then what has happened to Va—" Elsif stops shortly as the name dies on her tongue. "The Queen's other prisoner. Where is she?"
"Other prisoner... Ah, yes. She is presumably with the Queen. That is all you need to know."
Elsif must force herself to remain silent as she eventually allows the guard to lead her from the rust-reeking cell and to the grounds above. Her bones ache and pain remains sharp from her assault; she assumes with relief that she had been unconscious for only a short time.
Approaching the abandoned war grounds, the Queen of Death who draws near suddenly halts before Elsif without directly facing her. Releasing the guards, she says with a hint of sarcasm, "You have a mutual deal to uphold, my faithful servant."
"What deal do you speak of?" Elsif retorts, frowning; as far as she knows, she has forged no such contract.
The Queen laughs underneath her breath and replies, "Why, Valia accepted my generous offer to save you... That is, in exchange for her own life."
The words strike a toll within Elsif, reverberating throughout her mind in bewilderment. Clenching her teeth and tightening her hands into fists at her sides, she hisses, "Jest not with me."
"My tongue only speaks truth, my dear. She willingly sacrificed herself in order to protect you. To bring you back from the dead."
"Lies! I still stand unscathed, do I not? Unless..."
The Queen of Death snickers lowly as the realization crosses Elsif's mind. Sauntering forward, the Queen draws an intricately forged short sword from her sheath strapped to her leg and twirls the ominous weapon in her talons.
Elsif says upon comprehension and rising dread, "'Twas not me who bears the false contract, but Valia. You lied to her by telling her I was dead. You only wanted her soul containing Chaos itself!" The entire time she speaks, her eyes do not waver from the Queen's, even as the one-handed sword breaches the distance between them. "To mercilessly slay your own kindred...You sicken me—even for a Death Queen, you seem to bear no limits."
"Hold your tongue, servant. Is that manner any way to speak to your Queen?"
Drawing a breath, Elsif spits, "You are not my Queen, and I am no longer your servant."
The Queen smirks deviously, her eyes flashing. "Ah, but who are you to say that? I hold your very heart in my grasps, Elsif. I could easily crush it at any time I please."
Elsif's hand unknowingly rises to her chest where her heart used to lie; the steady beat she used to know is still long gone. Glaring, Elsif watches as the Queen suddenly summons her heart into the palm of her hand. The Death Queen's wicked grin widens as she clenches her talons together, creating intense pressure on the organ. Elsif's hand immediately clutches the area of her void heart as pain suddenly bursts within her chest. Clenching her teeth in order to stifle her screaming protest, Elsif forces herself to swiftly recover as she barely manages to stand.
"You are not as strong as you think you are, Elsif. Do not even think a hierarch's descendant like you can oppose me—may I remind you, I am the embodiment of Death, War, and Chaos." The Queen presses the blade against Elsif's throat as she draws ever near.
Elsif does not so much as tremble as she forces herself to steadily meet the Queen of Death's piercing eyes. "How will my death benefit you? Tell me that at least, before I greet my end."
"Ah, but it does, and it will. 'Tis not an end, but another beginning, and this time you will be all mine."
Elsif thinks over her words before inquiring, "Is this my supposed death that I am forced to rise to, the same death that shall seal the proposition?"
The Queen responds, "'Tis your unavoidable fate, Elsif. The one that Valia created for you. However, you will rise again, and this time you will be precisely what she wanted for you—deaf to your own heart, blind to current motives, and futile to my manipulation."
Elsif remains speechless, unsure whether to believe the Queen's words. She does not want to believe that Valia cursed her fate with her own death; however there is minimal proof that Valia did not resent her for being a hierarch's descendant. After all, Valia did lie about her status as a descendant from the Netherworld and the embodiment of Chaos, leaving Elsif ignorant to her false honestly. "I will not fall to your command, even if Valia truly wishes it."
The Queen laughs, her grip on the blade pressed to Elsif's throat unwavering. "My dear, to put it in terms you will understand, I will be your only light in a sea of darkness. There will be no redemption, and you will live in a blind solitude." She suddenly lowers her head, her sharp eyes laying on Elsif's as her mouth lifts into a faint, dark smile. "Hm, we are wasting precious time. It seems you have been spared from death this time, but when you awaken you will long for the embrace of it and only fear life. That is when you will finally belong to me and my kingdom."
The Death Queen's maniacal rings throughout the forsaken war grounds as she suddenly swipes the sword across Elsif's throat, where blood immediately begins spewing as the girl's increasingly lifeless body falls to the cold ground. The Queen's venomous eyes shine in triumph as she murmurs, "The world shall perish under my hand. Each of my servants, including you, my dear Elsif, will watch the nightmare unfold."