The Price of Betrayal

7th day of the invasion of Ethereal, 9.00 p.m. Ethereal time.

Murdering, murdering, murdering. Is there no stop to this? How many worlds, how many innocents have we slain, have I slain? Their blood runs on my hands, and even a thousand oceans cannot wash them clean.

And now, this world. True, the powerful Titans our mistress so hates are tough foes, and worthy of slaying, but...

The nascent, yet sentient creatures of this world are pitiful, and we slaughter them just like wild beasts. Have our mistress no pity?

I grieve for the loss of so many innocent souls, and at the same time, wonder why no other being in this army feels the same.

I put down my pen and personal log, secreting it away in the magical pocket where none save myself can open, for if anyone were to find it, it would surely spell my end.

I am Abel, a human mage-warrior, my powers and strength augmented so much by the powers of my mistress, it is intoxicating. But I have not lost my sense and pride, not like the crazed beasts the others have become.
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12th day of the invasion of Ethereal, 3.00 a.m. Ethereal time.

Enough is enough.

Today, I have slain literally hundreds of mortals. My sword has cleaved apart many, my spells destroying many more. I cannot go on like this. I now leave this journal here, so as to serve as a remembrance for my kindred.

May you also be enlightened.

I set down the tome, and, in the twilight of the night, when the army slumbers, I leave the camp. With a quick thrust, I silence the patrolling guard. I run as fast as I can, to where, I know not.

I run for but several miles. But woe is me, someone has sounded the horn of pursuit. I chance a teleport spell, away from the camp. But alas, one has sensed my spell and warped it, bring me to her.

I raise my blade, preparing to meet my end against the Death Knight Licht. With magic-enhanced abilities, I propel myself forth, blade extended-

-and was stopped in mid-charge. Curses! The foul witch used her time abilities to halt me! My doom is come.
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Abel awoke, in total darkness. His blade was gone, his magics muted and sealed within him. His head throbbed with the agony of the strike which Licht dealt him, a strike with the flat of her blade but still enough to knock him out.

A light came on. He was chained, all four limbs stretched tight as the tight shackles pulled in all four directions. And in the room-

The mistress of the Shadow was lounging in a throne, a glass of blood-red wine in her hand as she smiled wickedly at him. Then the scent caught. It wasn't wine...it was blood! Abel's complexion paled instantly.

She nodded, and a girl came in the room, bowed before Candace, and turned, a glistening dagger in her hand.

'You know that betrayal is a deadly sin. Why do you desert my army?' whispered Candace, yet the terror of her mere whisper sent the hardened warrior shivering.

The girl, seemingly no older than a teenager, struck out, a deep gash on his arm. He grunted, but would not give the satisfaction to the monster by yelling.

The girl then slashed methodically at his legs, torso, face, arms. Blood dripped from wounds numbering higher than a score. He rapidly lost strength, and it became a herculean feat to stay conscious.

Candace flung aside her now-empty glass. 'Leave us.' she commanded, and the girl bowed once more, placed the dagger on the plinth nearby, and exited.

The terrible, corrupted Elendil queen rose, and with a whim sent a barrage of elemental lightning coursing over Abel's body, flowing especially over the open wounds. He didn't scream before, but now he shrieked. With another whim, the shards of her shattered glass rose up and sped towards the mage-warrior.

They impaled with astonishing accuracy, piercing him in every vital spot. He died without a sound.

Then Candace frowned, and recalled the shards of glass. The wounds sealed and healed, leaving nothing but a faint scar in each wound. He shook his head, awoke again, and gasped.

'Such a swift death does not justify your defiance.' Candace smirked. 'In living you defy me. Now I will remake you, and in undeath you will serve me forever.' She raised a hand, and with a sharp gesture Abel was surrounded in a scintilating orb of energies. Pieces of his flesh, his bones tore off, slowly and agonizingly.

Abel sank into a state between life and death. The urge to fall into the dark abyss beckoned. He succumbed to it. The peace and silence, bliss.

Pain! His soul was ripped from the calm of death, and forced into the now dead corpse of himself. He was jerked awake, and shook his head in denial, as he beheld the cruel smile of the mistress of the Shadow.

'Death knight, thus I have made you. Your will is yours, but your actions are not. You are my slave, now and forever.' She turned to the door. 'Take him away, let him rest. Then send him back to Ethereal.'

I...will not fall to you! Abel thought. Candace just laughed. A pair of powerful demons entered the chamber, bowed to their mistress, and grabbed the Death Knight by the arms, roughly, and dragged him away.

My actions, I may not be able to control. But my will shall never be broken.