By Soul Slayer

You're moist, warm breath upon my skin
Ignites a pulsing flame within
Words can't describe the burn I feel
My world is false, but you are real
One lasting taste, One fatal kiss
Will leave me in eternal bliss
You know your power over me,
'So why prolong my misery?'
My life is yours. Of that I'm sure.

The dark fabrics of time and space of the gloomy citadel were viciously torn apart as two magical beings suddenly appeared in the once dreadfully quiet throne room. The two beings still argued ferociously even after their brief teleportation. "What in the name of the Goddess do you think you're doing?" The woman yelled at the sorcerer, who held her arms in his vice like grip. He let go of her and grinned before responding. "Saving you the trouble of discovering how much they'll resent you after you done your job," he replied casually.

She cautiously approached him, ignoring the gloomy atmosphere that the room had normally set for any mere mortal. "What do you mean?" she reached out to touch his shoulder but thought better of it.

Bree smiled an understanding smile. He motioned for her to sit. She sighed then looked about the room to find something comfortable enough for her, and preferably something that would irritate Mozenrath. It wasn't long before she found a suitable chair. At the end of the room sat a throne of gold, on it was midnight blue cushions. Snakes and dragons were carved into the gold.

Arrogantly the assassin strode to his throne and sat on it, crossed legged, awaiting the sorcerer's explanation. "Look, if you kill me…" he starts.

Bree wave her hand to silence him. "I know the consequences, Mozenrath, I'm not an idiot." Her voice became cold and full of authority. "Frankly, the Fates and The higher power deem you worthy enough to prove yourself deserving of your life. How, is for me to decide."

He felt a chill run down his back as he listened intently on her words, searching for a mixed meaning. "What's this about the Dragon's Eye?" he asked turning away from Bree.

Nothing but silence. He turned back and glares into thin air. She was gone. He swept the room with his deadly gaze in one motion calling out the assassin's name.

She heard her name echoing through the citadel's dark interior. She couldn't help but chuckle to herself. 'Why did I become an assassin when harassing Mozenrath was just as fun' she thought to herself.

Her footsteps were absorbed into the moisture of the dark mist, which flowed aimlessly across the dark tiled floor, as she ran through the halls. Despite the anonymous directions she chose she was heading to one place in particular, Mozenrath's library. In it, was a vast quantity of knowledge, and knowledge was her life long quest, since the day the sorcerer had taught her how to read.

She quickly turned a corner, looking back to see if Mozenrath had followed her. As she does so, she felt a sharp pain run through her spine, then all was black.

The sorcerer glared at his fallen friend. Mozenrath knelt by the bed and rubbed his thumb on the scar on her arm, which only a few hours ago was bleeding because of Razul. Her cut wasn't deep, yet did heal fast, even for an elf. This was one of the results of one of Destane's various successful experiments that he had preformed on her. He pulled out the small dragon pin from Bree's hair. The pin has a thin blade at the end, suitable for a dagger. "She was sent here to me, but…" he thought out loud. "For reasons, I'm not sure I'm going to like." He continued to theorize mentally, wandering over to clean a blood soaked cloth, keeping the dagger with him.

Bree groaned as she got up. "Take it easy," the necromancer said rather coolly, "I hit you pretty hard."

Bree opened up one eye to see who was speaking to her as she rubbed the back of her head. In response she grunted.

"Your head," he reached to check the back of her head, "Does it hurt at all?"

She pulled away and shook her head. "Not much.What did you hit me with?"

"A crystal's magic," he responded hading her the orb that was no bigger than the palm of his hand.

The artifact glowed brightly various colors when it was exposed to her touch. She inspected the ball closely rubbing her finger over a small fissure in it. "Hey! It's cracked!" she remarked holding the ball up from him to see.

The sorcerer angrily snatched the crystal ball away from her. "I told you your head was too hard," he snapped.

Mozenrath examined the artifact professionally as if he's handled or even created the crystal himself. Bree leaned in a little, a concern look on her face. "I thought you had gotten rid of all of those?"

Mozenrath glanced shortly at his new guest and shrugged. "I'm not the one who found it." Bree arched a brow, then eyed Xerxes who hid under its master cape until now. "Where did you find this?" He asked his familiar, making a gesture with the ball in his gauntleted hand.

"A room full down the hall," it responded, gesturing out the door with a flick of its tail. "I follow mamluck…"

"I think there's a way to tap the magic inside the crystal. Ah, but like all things, it probably has a price." Bree stated, more concerned about the magic within the orb than the possibility of there being more.

Silence filled the room as they ponder on the possibility. Mozenrath was the first to break the silence, "Xerxes could you lead me to where you found this." He raised the ball as if to test its weight. "Who knows what a could happen if it were to fall into the wrong hands."

Both Bree stared at the sorcerer with a 'you really must think I'm idiot' type of look. Mozenrath sighed a curse then suggested, "Or you could show Brianna were it is."

Bree grinned, before summoning rope and began tying Mozenrath up, who didn't believe that of she would actually leave him there,.

"I'm beginning to get the feeling that you don't trust me," he retorted.

"When ever did I make you think I trusted you?" Bree shot back.

He felt a surge of energy run through the thick threads of rope, an 'anti-magic' spell.

He never replied. He simply glared at her as she left the room.

They traveled through various dark corridors before arriving to their destination. They entered a small room, appearing to be used as a storage room. Crates of all sizes were stored in this chamber. Some were small enough to fit but a single crystal, others, large enough to hold a man prisoner. Bree carefully pried open a medium size box. In it were several glowing crystal balls were sitting in a mess. By the looks of it Destane must have tried to spare room in the box to throw in more crystals. Bree arched a brow before proceeding to the next crate, which was somewhat bigger than half her size. Again the box was filled to the rim in crystal balls, only this time they were more orderly and they didn't glow. She carefully removed one from its place and closes the box.

Suddenly Xerxes leapt out from behind the crates and hissed in Bree's face. Surprised, she dropped the crystal and leaps to her feet. She acted quickly, taking the familiar by the tail and slamming him against the edge of a box. She reached for her hidden dagger but couldn't find her pin.

The woman glared at the eel, but aware of what its master would do to her if she did anything to it, she reached for the crystal ball but it was nowhere to be found. Xerxes, aware of what she was looking for hissed at her more violently. Finally she snapped, "Look you little freak of nature!" Her tone of voice startled the familiar. "If you don't shut up soon, not even your master will stop me from killing you."

The eel's eyes watered. He quickly zipped out of the room crying for his master. Satisfied, Bree re-opens the crate and reached in to pull out another crystal. However, when she looked inside, the box was empty, save for the spider webs. Bree reached in searching for a switch mechanism.

Bree had been gone for several minutes. Unfortunately, patience was not one of the young sorcerer's strong points. Luckily for him, Bree hadn't noticed that her pin was missing, not only that, she didn't even search him for any sharp objects. For had she done so she would have discovered her pin held tightly in his grasp. 'Very sloppy Bree' he grinned to himself. 'I thought I taught you better than that.' He started cutting the rope with the blade. As he does so he recalled some past events concerning Bree, Destane, and himself.

He didn't realize it until it was too late, that Bree had been use for experiments. 'An advanced life form' Destane had called her, 'A creation of science and magic; combined.' The old man had been thrilled to have this specimen added to his collection. Though at the time the young Mozenrath did know that he wasn't refering to Bree, but to a being far greater.

Although the young sorcerer was but a mere child at the time, he could feel the girl's energy beckoning him to lab late every night. He fought the urge to see her, but continuously failed. 'She is one of a kind,' he recalled Destane saying, as he wiped the blood off his arm. The wound, as he recalled it, was deep gashes caused by claws, which never did heal.

As a little girl, Bree had managed to manipulate him, convincing him to release her from the laboratory. It wasn't until late one night, several months after her arrival, he first saw her. She bore fangs and had a lizard-like tail, her ears were longer than those of an elf, and she possessed claws on both her hands and her feet. Her appearance frightened him but he adjusted quickly. She realized abruptly that her appearance wasn't normal, and allowed herself to resemble that of the sorcerer's by quickly taking hold of him and manipulating his magic to aid her. Her fangs decreased in size, her ear shortened, her hair of black grew longer curls and her tail vanished.

He had managed to find some of his old clothing and quickly made her wear them. She was a cute child, so it was easy enough to convince some people in a passing caravan to adopt her. He never heard of her since.

Until a few months later, when he over heard Mirage and Destane arguing. To Mirage he was a successor to her dark power. He was a way for her to re-enter Earth permenantly, and wreak havoc on the world.'You lost the child!' Mirage argued, 'A little girl, and you lost her.'

'I believe your boy had something to do with her escape.' He presented a small crystal ball. It glowed black and white all at the same time. 'I found your son's energy patterns in this.'

'Why would he set her free?' Mirage slapped the crystal out of the old man's hands, sending it flying across the room. 'He's the balance of evil, he couldn't have set his own rival free.'

'All children are born innocent, even the evil ones.' The old man bent down painfully to pick up the sphere. 'However, I think I can find her again. It shouldn't take long.' He was only ten at the time, and didn't completely understand their intentions for the girl.

Years had gone by, Mozenrath had just turned sixteen. Like any other birthday, both his teacher and his mother showered him in gifts. One gift in particular interested him the most, a huge crate that sat at the end of the room. He felt the energy waves fluxing powerfully from within the box. He waited impatiently to open the last gift.

When the gift was presented, the sides of the box gave way and fell to the ground, revealing it contents. A barely dressed girl sat on her knees, looking timid and scared in the center of the room. Slowly she looked up and saw the sorcerer. A flash of hope ran through her eyes. The girl ran into his arms holding him in her embrace, whispering, 'You can't let them do what they did to me again. Please not again!'

The sorcerer's arms fell around the girl, as he glared at his 'mother' and Destane. 'I told you it was him,' the old man cheered in self-triumph.

Mirage advanced smugly toward him then pried him away from the girl. 'Considering you like her so much, my dear boy,' his mother hissed, 'You can marry her.'

Finally the rope snapped. He stepped out of the bedchamber and proceeded down the hall in hopes to find Bree. "Master!" a rugged voice called.

His familiar swam toward the young sorcerer. The eel wrapped himself comfortably around his master's shoulders. "Bree meen to me!" the familiar hissed, "Call Mamlucks?"

"No, Xerxes," Mozenrath responded petting the eel like a cat. "I'll handle her. Where is she? Show me."

No sooner was he ordered, the eel zipped down the hall leading his master to Bree's wear abouts.

"I assuming that you're looking for a switch," came a deep voice.

Shocked, Bree falls into the box, then cried out, "Found it!"

The sorcerer peeked over the box to see what she had found. "A gummy worm! You know, from when Destane first brought me here." Bree lifted it up and waves it in front of Xerxes. "I suppose you want it, hmm?"

The eel nodded like an idiot. "Just to prove I'm not completely cold hearted, here." She handed him the worm, then sank back into the box, to continue her search.

After several minutes, Bree stepped out of the box. Mozenrath, expecting a report, simply watched her wipe the dust from her skirt. She turned back facing the crates and shrugged. "Giving up," The sorcerer comments.

Bree gave him a sidelong glance, then pulled Xerxes from his shoulders, and threw him into the crate, quickly slamming the lid over top of him. The familiar cried in vain for his master's help. The elf knocked on the lid and waited for the whaling to stop. Finally silence. "All I want you to do is pull the switch in the corner nearest me," she explained. "Then I'll let you out!"

The necromancer approached Bree, resting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up shortly and waited until she hears a small click! She opened the lid and only find Xerxes alone in the crate. She lets out a heavy sigh then left the room completely discussed with her results.

They search every volume in the long since dead sorcerer's library. They've found everything from 'How to cure the common cold' to 'How to open the gates of Hades without getting yourself sucked through in process.' They've discovered secret passages and forgotten orbs and may other different types of nick-knacks that were hidden away. Aladdin pulled an old book loose from a wooden shelf. To it, is attached a smaller document wrapped in a purple cloth. The pages had turned a dark yellow over the years from not being stored away properly. He flips through the first few pages. The writing was faded and almost illegible, there are fade pictures, and there are small notes which where recently made in fresh ink.

"Jasmine!" Aladdin called, sounding alarmed. "Jasmine I found something that you might want to read."

Jasmine lifted her head groggily as she woke from her sleep. She rose from the table when Aladdin, not yet realizing he had waken her, called her name again, only this time sounding much more urgent. The street rat turned to see what's keeping the princess, who was trying hopelessly to balance herself in the tall room. He went to her and let her sit down where she once was. "I found something your mother wrote," he informed her, placing the document in her hands.

She glanced at it then hands it back to her fiancé. "Please read it to me," she asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

At first he was silent when he began to read the faded writing but then read it softly when he managed to read some of the more legible memoirs of the day.

What saddens me however is the not that part of the prophecy, she continued 'You mother will drink a cure to your pain' she said so pointing to my heart, 'but leave the realm a year later. Soon after, Father will send me to a temple.' She knew the reasons but wouldn't say, 'When I return I will turn away from my family and cause them great harm.' It disturbed me to find out that she knew about my illness before I had the chance to tell even my husband. Could her 'dream' and mine be somehow connected?

September 15th,
Jasmine and Brianna concocted some sort of potion that they oblige me to drink. Is this the miracle cure that Brianna's bird claimed that I would drink? If I'm healed of all pain, as she said I would be, I'll be able to spend time with my daughter's before I perish and I would live six months longer than I would have normally without this elixir.

March 30th,
My adopted-daughter's playful mood seems to have vanished with each approaching day of my death. I do wonder if Jasmine can sense it. I can't help but worry for her! I hope that my husband can raise with the gentleness that he has shown me. I hope that he will discipline as well as spoil, I hope that he will laugh as well as punish. I shouldn't worry of such matters…All will be well!

Jasmine took the document in her hands. She saw the notes that where marked in a foreign language and the faded pictures of a handsome elven man with long light hair, with his daughter giving him a hug underneath that was written 'may they be united'. As she fliped through the final pages of the diary a letter fell out. 'Jasmine' was written on the envelope. The princess hesitated a moment before opening it to reveal its contents.

In it is a blank piece of paper. When Jasmine's touch came in contact with the paper, the world around her slowly deteriorated into a dark misted atmosphere. There she was alone. She called out for Aladdin. Silence. She called out for her father. Again, silence.

The princess turned around abruptly, only to come face to face with a demon. She let out a yelp and slowly backed away. Her skin has plastic texture to it; her eyes glow a soothing yellow. Black horns spiraled from her brow, her purple-black hair flowing around it. Her ears were much like those of elves, and her figure looked to be that of a human woman. She had fangs and claws as well as a tail.

"Sister," the demon said her claws covering her face. "Look what father allowed him to do to me."

Jasmine looked away from the demon. "Look at me!" she growled. "He allowed Destane to perform science experiments on me," she let out a sarcastic chuckle, "To revive an extinct species."

Jasmine cautiously neared the demon. "Father did this to you?" The princess could hardly believe the words that came out of her own mouth. "He would never…."

"Look at me Jasmine," the demon cried, "Tell me you don't recognize me not even a little."

The princess brushed away the dark hair from the beast's face behind her ears. "The only one I remember was killed in a raid," Jasmine confessed, "She was placed in a monastery shortly after mother passed away. They said it was the army of the undead." Tears roll down the princess's cheeks. "If I need to see her, all I have to do is go to the Land of the Black Sand."

The demon backed away, hurt by the princess's words. She didn't recognize her. What was she to do? Ah yes the reason why she was summoned here. "You have right to one question." The beast said emotionlessly. "You'll get your answer moments after you wake up."

The demon's cool gaze swept over the princess, leaving her feeling alone and helpless. "What is the Avatar's cross?" Her voice rang out loudly, echoing in vast void of emptiness. The beast nodded solemnly, arms folded across her chest, stance strong. Her unholy voice repeated the question in a different language, than all was normal again.

"Jasmine!" Aladdin said worriedly. "Are you okay? You said something about an old friend being the owner of the Avatar's cross?" His hand brushed against her cheek. "Do you think she could tell us what it is?"

Jasmine's eyes went wide. Her bottom lip shaking at the very thought of her long lost friend. "When did I say that?" she inquired almost fearing her answer.

"You said that your friend lived in a monastery most of her life," the parrot explained, "Makes sense and all, with the power she had. You also said that's where they were the ones that trained the Avatar's." The bird perched himself on her shoulder and continued, "I mean if you put two and two together. It makes sense doesn't it."

The princess let out a tried sigh, then says, "We'll go see her tomorrow." Then left for her room after wishing her companions' goodnight.

The citadel had fallen dreadfully quiet, once the owner fell asleep. Bree however kept herself busy most of the night by studying the citadel's blueprints and keeping herself awake by trying to figure out how that god-forsaken eel managed to keep those crystals from her. She had changed into a black, silk nightdress, proving to the sorcerer and his companion that she did indeed plan on going to bed sometime that night. Of course she lied, after all, Mozenrath knew her well enough not to let her get a hold of the blueprints in his presence, and what better time to read the blueprints than while he's asleep.

She sipped at her tea, ignoring the ghostly essence she felt around her. She was being watched, there was no doubt in her mind of that. Yet some unknown matter continuously interrupted her. Almost like she forgot to do something and had to complete the task before it was too costly for her benefits. She glanced about the room; worry filling her mind. Whispers filled her ears, whispers of warning, other of hatred, of regret, the last that of death.

She jumped to her feet. Her sharp mind piecing together ghostly information. She hurried down several halls, then up numerous flights of stairs, cursing the sorcerer every step of the way. Panting she entered his room.

All was dark and, much like the exterior, bare. In the center of the southern wall was a huge bed, where slept the sorcerer. In front of it a divan, for when he was too tired to take the few steps to a more comfortable location. The window was in face of the bed allowing a few raise of moonlight to enter the domicile. A desk sat in an angle near the huge window. There was a door near the desk, Bree assumes that it leads to the bathroom.

She glanced over the sleeping sorcerer, assuring herself that all was well. She recalled of her missing dagger and began to search his desk. "It has to be here somewhere," Bree whispered.

She glanced back up to the necromancer, making sure he was still sound asleep, then brought herself back to the task at hand, continuously reminding herself to be much more quiet. Then quickly slipped through some of the documents on his desk then rummaged though his desk drawer. She looked back on the sorcerer. She saw a dark mist hovering over Mozenrath. She wiped her eyes. Sure enough the cloud of mist was still there. 'Still walking in the shadow of death, Mozenrath?' she thought to herself.

"This is serious, Bree," she said more gravely, "If you don't do something soon you'll be joining him too."

The haze slowly took on a solid form. She watched the figure with caution, ready to act if it were to try anything. She then realized that hovering over him was the Death himself. She leaped over the desk and rushed over to Mozenrath's side. She waved her hands frantically in the mist, trying to ward off the being. The haze seems somewhat frightened of the woman's presence and quickly faded into nothingness. Satisfied, she headed back to work.

Death's energy still polluted the air around her, making her skin crawl. Worried, she looked back on the sleeping sorcerer. She noticed the cross that hung around his neck reflecting in the moonlight. She leaned over the sorcerer to inspect the artifact. Something hits her on her back, knocking her down next to the necromancer. She quickly rolled over and saw Death take on his final form. His dark, tattered clothes swayed gently about him. His face was that of a grinning skull and next to him floated a scythe.

"I've come for the boy," he stated. His voice seemed to emanate from a pit of an abyss. His jaw didn't move, yet his eyes gleamed an eerie orange light with each word he spoke.

The elf's arms flung themselves around the sorcerer, cradling him close to her. "You can't have him," she whispered harshly.

"I must keep to my list." A long parchment appears in his unseen hand, and he points the weapon at the sorcerer. "He's next."

Bree allowed her curiosity get the best of her. "Where am I on the list?"

The reaper chuckled. "Twenty some odd years down." The parchment piles up to the twenty-year deadline.

Bree takes the list from the reaper, and tore a huge section of names from the bottom of her name, then sticks the new list at the top, and handed it to Death. "If you don't accept your new list," she says threateningly, "You'll have to go through me."

He screamed in rage, raising his weapon to strike them both dead. Suddenly, thunder tore through the sky. Death looked behind him as if receiving a message from God then turned to Bree. He nodded solemnly, then vanished.

Bree released a sigh of relief and buried her head in the necromancer's neck, whispering, "Mozenrath, you lucky bastard, what would you do without me?"

She closed her eyes and shortly fell asleep next to the young man.

When she woke the next morning, she found herself held tightly in the sorcerer's arms. She knew that the slightest movement on her part would wake the sleeping man, so she decided to wait for him to remove his arms from around her so that she might get away clean.

She recalled of the cross that she saw the previous night. Bree's fingers entangled them selves in a golden chain that hung around Mozenrath's neck. Gradually drawing her attention to the golden, black pearled cross that was attached to it. She lifted it up to examine a moment, but the sorcerer's fleshed hand grasped hers. Her green eyes travel to meet his cool gaze. "Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing in my bed?" he asked, his voice showing more sarcasm than anger.

She smiled innocently. She felt him relax underneath her touch. "How strange! No lecture," she started, placing her hand to his forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

He took her hand and kissed it as he purred, "I feel fine."

"Give it five minutes," she remarked, "You'll be back to normal."

"I'd give it more time than that," he purred playfully as he brought her closer and kissed her lips.