Overture: In the House of Flies

[Devin Ducat]

Continued from ‘We’re In This Together Now’ (http://swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=27917)…


(Change) In the House of Flies

I've watched you change into a fly
I looked away you were on fire
I watched a change in you
It's like you never had wings
Now you feel so Alive

I've watched you change
I took you home
Set you on the glass
I pulled off your wings
Then I laughed

I watched a change in you
It's like you never had wings
Now you feel so alive
I've watched you change
It's like you never
Had wings

I look at the cross
Then I look away
Give you the lungs to
Blow me away

I've watched a change in you
It's like you never had wings
Now you feel so alive
I've watched you change.
Now you feel alive
You feel alive
I've watched you change
It's like you never
Had wings

***
In rest Devin slept, and in sleep he dreamt. For years he had not dreamt once and now his mind was flooded with so many thoughts and fantasies unlocked that his eyes never once ceased twitching under the mental strain. Where he lay he was a wreck. Sprawled once more across his couch with clothes all damp and tattered, he clutched at his gut as if straining not to wretch.

Within his mind, the spirit of Brena Ducat stirred once more, and his body shifted under her movements. What ran through his mind now was what she thought. When his conscious gave way to subconscious it was she that gained the reigns to his body and was able to control his every movement. This in itself was why he had such peculiar dreams, of familiar men, damning one another…

[Warlock]

The temple of the Subryn was in a mighty uproar.

The leader, Warlock, had stormed in like a whirlwind in the early hours of the morning, carrying with him the Tome of Ages and a brilliant ancient smile on his lips. Any questions directed to him were not fielded, but simply addressed with a momentary glance that was reminiscent of very old times. It was unknown for most of the acolytes to see the Warlock in such a happy state.

One such person knew him well, however, and it was not one of his fellow arch-mages. This person was a dear friend and apprentice all in one, though they tended to keep themselves to themselves, shying away from socializing in the cloisters as some liked to. As Warlock rounded a corner that would lead him into the upper corridors of the underground temple, he came face to face with her.

… And the scene disappeared…

[Azumith]

And someone knocked on Devin’s door.

Had Devin been awake, he would not have recognised the face even if he had answered the door. Had Devin answered the door, it is unlikely that he would have lived long enough to even see the face – but that was beside the point. Brena Ducat, active in her former spouses mind, could sense something familiar at the door. It bore the taint of the Warlock, but was not as corrupted a mind as his. It was an underling of his perhaps.

The person knocked again.

Had she wanted to, Brena could have – she wagered - roused Devin and walked his dozing body to tend to the visitor, but she was much more curious as to what would happen if she left it. After all, if she was going to be trapped inside of the idiot, she might as well have a little fun.

After some minuets, the knocking receded, as the person gave up; but not without leaving behind a little something to be remembered by. On the outside of the door, pinned in place by a miniature metallic arrow, was a note:


Ducat - If you want to know what's going on, come to the Subryn shrine in a days time, at midnight. You have ten minutes to arrive before I assume you are not interested.

-A

[Warlock]

“Good evening, Azumith.”

The Warlock nodded in greeting as he almost bumped into his young apprentice, on turning the corner. As per usual, the young woman said nothing in reply. He had come to expect nothing less from her.

She was dressed in a forest green cloak that trailed at her heels. It was a mark of the particular sect she was interested in; those who studied nature. Not nature’s elements, but its creatures. She liked to call herself a ‘druid’, and although the other students mocked her for it, it was a fairly accurate moniker. The hood was pulled tightly around her face, causing strands of dark hair to pry out at odd points, in messy tresses.

“I have reclaimed the book from the cold, dead hands of Ducat,” the Warlock triumphantly proclaimed as he lifted the weighty tome.

[Azumith]

Her fallen eyes momentarily rose to take in the Tome of Ages. It was bound in hard leather and the cover showed the image of a robed figure surrounded by what looked like swirling wind. Verily, Warlock opened it and showed the inner cover, which was a more detailed representation of what was on the cover – a man in black, in the midst of time, surveying everything that had happened, was happening, and would happen. As it became noticeable that her eyes had travelled to the writing on the opposite page, the book was shut.

“Congratulations sire,” Azumith approved.

Somewhere in the depths of her mind, there was malice. How she despised Warlock! For years now she had been treated by him as an understudy and had gained the reputation of being his pet. For years he had fawned over her, and she could feel it now more keenly than ever. Her mind was attuned to his so much that his every thought was hers. The same could not be said for Warlock, however. Had he such clairvoyance, he would have known that his most prized student was a snake in the grass – a traitor to his cause.