Lustara’s sharp eyes caught the subtle details—the way her stance was balanced, the unwavering grip on her blade, and the flicker of determination in her eyes that told him this woman was no ordinary mage hunter. She was skilled, deadly, and not someone easily swayed by charm or tricks. But Lustara had always thrived in impossible situations, and he wasn’t about to let something as trivial as imminent death dampen his spirits.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Lustara raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, letting the magic that had crackled around him dissipate into the air. The tension in the room was thick, but his smile remained, a blend of amusement and careful calculation.
Ah, a formidable huntress, he began, his voice smooth and rich, carrying just the right amount of admiration to pique her interest without sounding patronizing. I must say, you certainly know how to make an entrance. I’ve been up against many in my time, but you? You’re a cut above the rest, aren’t you?
He took a small step back, keeping his movements unthreatening, his eyes never leaving hers. Now, before you go and carve me up like a Sunday roast, how about we take a moment to breathe, hmm? I’m not your average mage, darling. I’ve got a vested interest in staying alive, just like you.
Eithne paused in her forward advance through the room, the rest of the warehouse silent now from where those she had just "suggested" to cut out their own hearts had finally finished their task and those that hadn't quite heeded her suggestion were being dispatched by the rest of the hunters that had been with her. Her brow rose some as she gazed at the male in the middle of the room, almost like he had been waiting for her to get to that point. She huffed gently as she eyed the exits and then with a thought started to alter the flow of time in the room, her eyes never leaving his form though.
Everyone thought a mage needed a tool to cast, that there were grand movements, whispered stanzas to invoke something to life -- none of which were needed for the magic that Eithne had been tortured into learning so well that even if the lyrium cored dagger that hung loose in her grip now was taken from her, she would still be able to cast everything she needed to finish the job -- and so she decided now that her spell was firmly in place, that she would start to probe around the edges of his mind -- she had to be careful though, so much magic use in such a short amount of time could leave her dependent on the weapon if she didn't finish this mage quick. Well, this has been fun, but you apparently know how this is going to go down, so why don't you just go ahead and have a seat like a good boy and..
She trailed off as she found the right place to slip along the edge of his thoughts, her grip tightening on the dagger as she got ready to say fuck the magic and go in for the immediate kill. Demon! Trusting that her spells were in place she moved in, dagger raised and held in place at his neck as she backed them both up into the wall, trying to overpower the body before the demon inside had the chance to fully take over -- at least that's what she told herself, she knew just from that brief touch of his mind that what ever human he was in was long gone -- he was just wearing the skin. And why should I even think about letting you go, so you can go fuck off and do what ever? No, I think not, you're gonna die now. And she probably would in the process, but, that was how life went, and if she could buy a couple more seconds, the rest of the "team" should be there and be in position to finish what she was going to start.
Lustara’s gaze flickered with a cunning brilliance as he sensed her determination to drive the dagger home. But he wasn’t done yet. He had one more card to play, and it was a good one—one that might just save his skin, if only for a little while longer.
Ah, before you deliver that killing blow, darling, he began, his tone suddenly infused with a casual nonchalance that belied the gravity of the situation, there’s something you might want to consider. Something that could be far more valuable to you than my death.
He let the words sink in, watching her closely, gauging her reaction. You see, I happen to know where some very powerful mages are hiding. The kind of mages that your little hunter group has been desperately seeking, but always seems to just miss by a hair’s breadth. I could tell you exactly where to find them.
He could see her grip on the dagger tighten, and he knew he had her attention, even if she wasn’t fully convinced yet. I’m not talking about your run-of-the-mill spellcasters, either. I’m talking about the ones who dabble in the kind of dark magic that makes even someone like you hesitate. The ones who, if left unchecked, could pose a far greater threat than yours truly ever could.
Lustara allowed a moment of silence to let his offer settle in her mind. Now, you could kill me, of course. But then you’d lose this valuable information. And where would that leave you? Still chasing shadows, still fighting battles you’re destined to lose, all while those mages continue to grow stronger, more dangerous.
He tilted his head slightly, his smile returning, this time with a touch of genuine amusement. So, what will it be, my fierce huntress? A quick, meaningless victory? Or the chance to take down something far more significant, something that could truly make a difference? It’s your choice, but I must say, letting me go could be the most strategic move you’ve made all day.
Lustara’s eyes never left hers, his expression a masterful blend of sincerity and mischief. He knew he’d given her something to think about, and now it was just a matter of waiting to see if she would take the bait.
Eithne hated how honeyed his words where, how easily the manipulation seemed to slide from his lips, dripping sweetly into her ears with just the right cadence of smarmy and intriguing to keep her hung on his words, that kept her hand stilled from making the killing blow that would have already have come had it been anyone else. She had never hesitated in the kill, but this group of mages had been giving her such a hard time lately, always seeming to be one step ahead of her, and even her ability to slow time wasn't enough to catch them. One of them had to be a seerer.
She raised a brow at him and gave him a look of incredulity a his suggestion that they were a far greater threat than he -- she knew what he was, had felt it at the edge of his mind, felt that he was just wearing the body like a suit. Eithne gritted her teeth as she listened, truly listened to what he was saying -- he had to be some sort of mischief demon, or a lust demon to want to stir the pot like this, a semi-powerful one because he didn't seem to be sweating her abundant use of magic and knife at his neck. He was smiling..
He thought the whole thing was humorous -- she was being played with. Like a cat with a mouse, and she had followed through with the trap. She would die, of course, if she plunged her blade into his neck like she intended, but he would just find another body to wear around like he was now. The mage group was what she had been sent after -- if she returned back with the group handled, she would earn a small amount of praise, of course, but it was better than the beating she'd earn returning back empty handed once again.
She leaned into his neck a bit more with the dagger, aiming to draw a small amount of blood along the blade, what she'd need for the show to come. I bet you say that to all the girls, dangle the same bit of bait to see if they bite, but do you think all those saccharine sweet words will win me over? You dangle a treat, but even I know this bait comes at a cost, it's easier to just kill you and take the beating than being strung along over and over by a demon in man's clothing.
But she didn't press any further, her own nearly empty eyes watching his, would he understand her not pressing the attack, would he feel the time magic shift from the two of them back towards the room before this, on the hunters that were coming quickly to her position. Talk.
Lustara let his grin widen as he felt the dagger press closer against his neck, the faint sting of blood only fueling his amusement. Oh, she was good—*too* good. The time magic shifted in the room as her hold over it moved away, giving him a moment to breathe, and he knew it was a calculated mercy. But her challenge made him chuckle, a low, smooth sound that echoed in the tense silence between them.
Ah, darling, if I had a coin for every time I’d heard that, I’d be wealthier than a Tevinter magister, he replied, his voice rich with amusement and a flicker of admiration. But I must say, you’re sharper than most. It’s not often I get a hunter who sees through the charm. A lesser man might find it intimidating.
Her command was clear, but Lustara wasn’t finished yet. This was, after all, where he thrived—dancing on the edge of danger, coaxing trust out of those who wanted him dead. His gaze held hers, unwavering and calculating, as he leaned into the edge of her blade, purposefully letting the blade dig just a hair deeper. It wasn’t pain he feared. No, his concern lay with the game.
Alright, you want talk, I’ll give you talk, he said, his tone slipping from its usual playful lilt to something more serious, more cutting. You’re right to question the cost, my dear. Everything comes with a price, and I make no promises of perfection. But hear me out before you commit to cutting this throat of mine, hm?
He nodded slightly, giving her permission to step back, though he knew better than to think she’d truly ease up. These mages you’re chasing, they’re well-hidden, wrapped in layers of magic and secrecy. I’m not the first demon they’ve struck a deal with, but I’m the first one who’s willing to betray them. His eyes glinted with a wicked amusement. Now, I could tell you where they are hiding, or more importantly, how to draw them out. But… he hesitated, tilting his head, if I give up such information, I would expect a little something in return. Nothing outrageous, mind you. Just the courtesy of not skewering me immediately after.
His gaze sharpened, the teasing look in his eyes vanishing, replaced by something far darker. Because, make no mistake—these mages have their hands in something far more sinister than you might realize. And if they’re not stopped soon, your magic, your hunters, none of it will matter. There are fates worse than dying in a fight, love.
His words hung heavy in the air as he met her gaze, his own eyes finally revealing a glimpse of the ancient malice that lay beneath his charming facade. He wanted her to understand, to see just enough of the danger that she’d take his offer seriously. So, what’ll it be? Will we dance a little longer, or shall I lead you to the wolves?
The shift in tone was expected, the demon forced to play to her tune, even for just a moment, let the shift in exterior drop, and show the true one there. But he agreed, and they had precious few moments of her magic for her to hear what he said, for her to make the decision to either let the rest of her crew in to finish the job, or take his offer -- she still wasn't decided on which, even if she knew that he had already hooked her on his line.
It was a slippery slope, that she was starting down -- one deal here, would turn into another, he would find her out in the future, or she him, when one needed the other, this would be a symbiotic relationship, no parasitic really, for the rest of her life. It was inevitable, and she hated the entire thing so much, because he knew before he had started talking that he had her, smug bastard. She slid a step back, he had won.
Is that all? A quick escape for you is all it will cost for me to get this information? Where to find them? It was too good to be true, and she knew it was, after all, she was dealing with a demon, a lust demon too, she could feel the draw, the desire that oozed off him as he talked -- she knew it, but she hated all of it, and she couldn't help feeling disgusted at herself for falling prey to the whole act, her, someone who knew the ins and outs of it all.
She wouldn't leave alive if she didn't take the deal.
Fuck! Fine! She waved a hand, time returning to normal, and the two others in her group raced in, but she was ready. Sit down. She commanded, as the two immediately sat to the ground, shaking her head as she went. She couldn't have loose ends, or flapping lips, so she did the thing she did best, and slid a quick dagger into one's heart, and then the other, easing the corpses to the ground, casualties in the fight, she would put in her report. I'm going to say you did that, of course.. Eithne explained, as she wiped her dagger on the one's chest. Annoying twits anyway. Now, where do I find these wolves.
Lustara’s grin grew wide and wicked, the glint of triumph unmistakable in his sharp eyes as Eithne relented. She had made her choice, though he knew it wasn’t easy for her. No, that’s what made this victory so sweet. He could almost taste the conflict that had raged inside her before she stepped back, allowing him his life in exchange for the information.
Oh, darling, you wound me with that language. Such a mouth on you. His tone was teasing, but there was an edge of satisfaction as he rubbed his neck where her dagger had pressed. And yes, for now, all I ask is my freedom. Of course, we both know this little arrangement will leave us... tied together in the future. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? One step at a time, as they say.
His eyes flicked to the two dead hunters, their blood pooling on the floor, and he gave an exaggerated sigh. A shame, really. But I understand, loose lips and all that. You’re nothing if not thorough. He was impressed—more than impressed, actually—but he kept that to himself for now.
With a fluid motion, Lustara straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulders as if the threat of death hadn’t just been moments away. He took a step toward her, careful not to make any sudden moves. Though she’d let him live, he knew Eithne’s patience was a fragile thing.
The mages you’re after? He paused, the air around them growing heavier as his voice dropped to a near whisper. They’re holed up in a place called the Hollow Keep, far to the west, deep within the Black Mire. A charming little fortress hidden by magic and swamplands. The sort of place that keeps prying eyes away—unless, of course, you know the right tricks to bypass their wards.
He took another step closer, his tone casual but his words laced with dark promise. Now, these particular mages are quite fond of dabbling in the sort of magic that would make your blood run cold. Blood rites, soul binding, the works. And trust me, they’re preparing for something big. If you don’t stop them soon, well… let’s just say the world might be a very different place by the time they're done.
Lustara paused, watching her for any reaction, then added with a smirk, I’ll give you the names of their leaders as well. Just to sweeten the deal. But remember, darling, this is only the beginning. You'll need more than your blades and tricks to take them down. You might even need... me. He winked, the humor returning to his voice, though the seriousness of the situation remained.
He glanced at the two bodies once more, chuckling softly. Oh, and do feel free to blame me for the mess. I’ve got a reputation to maintain, after all.
With that, he stepped back, giving her the space she needed to process everything. He could see the disgust and frustration lingering on her face, but Lustara knew better than anyone that, no matter how much she hated him for it, they were bound now. Tied by the thread of necessity.
Now the damned demon wanted to come along for the fun of it, Eithne was going to lose her shit in about three seconds if she had to deal with the snide asshole the whole way. The breath she drew down was more in an effort to make sure that she didn't turn and try and put her knife through his chest in that moment, more than the need to breathe. Reining back in the compulsion to murder him would be something she was sure she could find, if she had just a few moments of him not talking. The damned demon liked to talk, but there was too much space between them now for her to fare reasonably well in a fight, the blood on her hands already sticky and starting to congeal.
And then he was further away from her, giving her enough space to breathe, to think again as she raised her dagger, not bothering to wipe the blood form the blade, before her bloodied hands were sliding into her wild nest of hair, finger tips massaging her scalp as she thought. She apparently needed him to find this camp of mages, and she was hungry enough for recognition that she had already made the deal. She was fine with that, she had no compunction about the murders she just committed, so it surprised her little when she was nodding finally at the news the demon gave her, her head rolling to the side as she stared at him with the full seething rage that bubbled beneath her skin at the whole ordeal.
Oh I will. It's just coming up with the story of how you evaded me. As you can see, she waved a hand to indicate the now corpses at her feet, her teammates just a few moments previous, I don't really have a problem controlling others. And if I tell my superiors that a demon has taken up residence in a body, well, that might works, but how long would it take for them to send someone nastier than me after you. No, it has to be a good story, and these mages you're offering need to be enough to appease that little.. transgression.
Lustara watched her, a gleam of satisfaction dancing in his sharp, devilish eyes. Her rage, her frustration—they were like a fine wine, intoxicating and delightful. But he knew better than to gloat too openly. This was a delicate balance, and Eithne was a predator who could turn on him at any moment. He’d won her agreement, but the real game was just beginning.
Oh, darling, you wound me with your low expectations, he said, his voice a smooth purr as he gestured vaguely toward the corpses at her feet. I’d have thought you’d realize by now, I *am* the story. A demon slipping through your grasp, sowing chaos and mischief in his wake—it practically writes itself. Sprinkle in a bit of melodrama, perhaps a heroic last stand on your part, and voilà. Your superiors will eat it up like starving wolves.
He stepped closer again, slow and deliberate, his posture relaxed yet poised. But I understand your dilemma. It’s not easy being the one caught between ambition and obligation, is it? You want their recognition, their praise… yet you despise the hoops you’re forced to jump through. You hate the way they look down on you until you deliver something extraordinary. Believe me, I know the feeling.
Lustara’s grin widened, a wicked, knowing smile that cut deeper than any blade. But here’s the thing, my fierce little huntress: You’ve already taken the first step toward something far greater. You’ve made a deal with me. And deals with demons? Oh, they’re the kind of currency that can buy power, freedom… maybe even a little revenge.
He let the weight of his words linger before he turned, pacing idly, as though he were merely pondering the weather. As for the mages, they’ll be more than enough to smooth over any… misunderstandings. A whole nest of them, meddling with magic that even your superiors wouldn’t dare to touch. Take them down, and you won’t just be appeasing anyone—you’ll be a bloody legend.
Lustara stopped, turning back to her with a glimmer of dark amusement in his gaze. And let’s not pretend you’re doing this just for them. Oh no, there’s something in you, something burning beneath all that righteous fury. A need to prove yourself. To show them all that you’re more than just a weapon they point and fire. Am I wrong?
Rage boiled inside her, through ever vein, every artery, pulsing out from a heart that beat faster in time to the staccato words the demon spoke. As much as Eithne loathed him, she was at the same time completely, and utterly fascinated by him. And the small bit of sexual excitement she experienced thinking about how pretty his face would look, contorted, turning blue, her hands around his throat, thumbs slowly pressing every deeper into flesh until she felt the snap of the small bone there, until she felt his trachea collapse -- well, that was neither here nor there. He was a demon, there was nothing wrong with feeling satisfaction dreaming of murdering him. It would come, one day. Not soon enough, but one day she would feel triumphant as she watched the life fade from those smarmy eyes.
I'm not interested in you stroking my ego's cock right now, demon. Eithne quipped back when he mentioned knowing the feeling. What the hell did he know about it anyway, this was all she knew. The hunt, the kill.. she was nothing else but the weapon she had been made into. And the sickness inside her that enjoyed it was yet another burden for her to bear, the deep seated pleasure that those around her would never see her coming, never live to tell the tale of her. And then the demon was trying to coerce her with pretty words, trying to exert his will over her, and something inside her snapped at a leash, raw, primal, begging to be let go for just a small moment. Something flickered behind her eyes, I am a legend. And then it was gone. Only the self-righteous assurance that what she was doing was right, and just the only malice that continued to seep from those dark eyes.
A shiver ran down her spine as she finally pulled those bloodied hands from her rat-nest of hair, arms dropping to her side as she realized that, in this exact moment, she was under no threat from the demon. Not in so much that she would die here and now, but perhaps later, years from now, when he had wrenched every last bit of usefulness from her. She had missed the chance, and now Eithne was going to be saddled with this particular demon for years to come -- a thought that did nothing to stop the images of killing him slowly from dancing in her mind's vision, nothing to stop the low curling heat in her abdomen that told her everything she needed to know. She was trapped with him now. We leave in the morning for this Hollow Keep.
And she thought better of trying to linger very much longer. She could make her camp, plunge into clean water to get all the blood off her, and then try and sleep behind wards that probably would do nothing to keep her safe from this particular demon. And just what am I to call you, then?
Lustara’s smirk deepened, a devilish glint in his sharp, golden eyes as he watched her wrestle with the realization of their inevitable entanglement. Oh, she was trying so hard to keep her fury contained, but he could *taste* it in the air between them—the simmering, raw need for control, the violent fantasies flickering behind those dark eyes. And yet, beneath all that rage, all that loathing, he could see it. The acceptance. The unspoken *understanding* that she had already let him in, whether she liked it or not.
Ah, darling, what a wonderfully intimate question, he mused, tilting his head as if savoring the sound of it. What *are* you to call me?
He took a slow, deliberate step forward, the space between them vanishing in an instant, his presence a smothering, intoxicating thing. Not magic—nothing so crude. Just him. Just the weight of his existence pressing against hers, a silent reminder that demons, *true* demons, did not need spells or tricks to get inside a mortal’s mind.
Some call me a devil. Others, a deceiver. A charming nightmare, a whispered temptation in the dark. But you… Lustara’s gaze burned into her, his lips curling into something almost dangerous. You may call me Lustara.
He let the name hang in the air, rich and honeyed, as if offering it to her like a gift wrapped in silk and sin.
Then, in an instant, the intensity broke. He stepped back with an easy grace, exhaling as if their little moment had been nothing more than a passing amusement. Though I must say, I do enjoy the way you say ‘demon’ with such venom. There’s something rather... *delicious* about it.
Lustara chuckled, rolling his shoulders as though shaking off the weight of something ancient and unseen. Well then, my dear huntress, I suppose that settles it. We leave at dawn. Do try not to have too many *impure* thoughts about me while you rest. It would be such a shame if you started to enjoy my company.
And with that, he turned, walking toward the warehouse’s exit with a slow, unhurried confidence, his laughter trailing behind him like the ghost of a promise she would come to regret.
