Olga Discordia, Queen of the Dark Elves and the demons of the north, bane of Eostia and the Seven Shields Alliance, awoke with a startle from her sleep. At first she thought it was merely some forgotten dream that had awoken her, but that could not be it, not when her body felt so cold and she was sweating as she was.
"Something has changed," Olga muttered to herself as she threw the simple covers off of her bed and strode out of her bedchamber.
She cared not for her nudity in her own home, as only her own kin were allowed within her tower, and only her direct subordinate was allowed this high. Nearly sprinting she crossed from her own room to the stairs and ascended to the true highest floor in the tower, her study, and found that many of her magical instruments and apparatus were all glowing malevolently. Checking them each in turn she scowled.
"What is causing such a thing? This much power could only be- AAHHH!" Olga suddenly shrieked as all of her instruments pulsed in anger, and her own body shrieked in pain as a surge of magical energy crossed past her. "What, what is this, power? Celestine?"
She paused at her own words. The last time Celestine had released so much power that the world itself was altered was just before she was marked as the Goddess Reborn. They had not spoken since even before that, but she knew of the event, knew that Celestine had likely refused to ever use so much power again.
No, it couldn't be her. Someone else had managed to utilize enough magical power to alter the very fabric of the world. Something only the most supremely powerful, or the gods, could do.
"Is there, another now?" Olga asked herself in fear and curiosity as she got up and walked out of her study onto the balcony, high above her blighted lands. "Did another, beat me to it?"
And as if to answer her words she felt another pulse of magic tear through her body, making her fall to the ground once more while, this time, a number of her magical instruments behind her exploded in glasslike cracks and pops.
Olga however did not move as she slowed her breathing and tried to stop the pain from filling her. It took a few minutes, but she was finally able to move, the pain having mostly passed. "I, will never forgive you, usurper," she growled.
Just before the sound of glass crunching caught her attention. "My Queen!"
"Chloe," Olga said as she turned further to see her blonde haired subordinate running up to her. "Prepare our forces. We need, to find someone."
"My Queen, that may have to wait, the towers magic is wavering. I have been told by Cassira that the magic commanding the monsters is wavering as well!"
"I see," Olga said as she had to think for a moment before recalling that Cassira was the name of one of her mages. "Then help me return to my chambers to dress Chloe. Once I am prepared, I shall reinforce the spell once more. And then we shall begin our hunt."
"For who, my Queen?" Chloe asked as she did as asked and began helping Olga to her feet.
"For the one who stole the divinity that was to be mine!"
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Celestine, the Goddess Reborn, sat beside her bed in the dead of night, panting in horror and fear at the energy she had felt in pulses.
The first had awoken her rudely, the second had made her shudder with fear, and the third strongest pulse had made her fall to her knee's in realization.
As a Goddess Reborn she was very acclimated to the magic's of the world that the gods had created with their own sweat and blood. She could not admit it aloud, but the world did have many problems. Some by the actions of the gods, others through the actions of men and monsters. Even with issues and problems though, the world was still beautiful, and it was still worth fighting for.
But her acclimation made her realize what had occurred. It had not been a simple supreme use of magic, but an altering of reality itself. It was on a small scale, but done multiple times it had surged across the world. Most people would have awoken in surprise for no known reason. Those with great skill in magic would likely feel something wrong and not know what it was. The number of people who could glean what truly had occurred was likely less than a dozen across the whole of the world.
"But why, did you do that of all things to accept your divinity?" Celestine nearly wept as she knelt on the floor beside her bed. "Why do such a thing as deny someone their own existence and force it to something else?"
She could hear the sounds of confusion outside, both clergy and common folk alike awaking from their peaceful slumbers likely with feelings of confusion or dread depending on the person.
"Should I, try to tell him what he has done is a horrible taboo? He needs to know after all, I could-" Celestine suddenly stopped and shook her head. "No. He, he is his own, and his beliefs will differ from mine. Even if I regretted doing it, and still do, he may not, and may have a good reason for it. I . . . should not force his thoughts when he will be my equal."
The sound of shock echoed in the temple, making it clear that many were likely coming to speak with her.
"Perhaps, I could use this as a way to improve his standing when . . . no, he should make such choices for himself. For now, I should calm the masses," Celestine said to herself as she walked to a closet and opened it, pulling out her clothing as she thought. "And perhaps, by the time I next see him; I will have an answer for these feelings."
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In a dark room, far hidden from the light of day or the moon, a man in a cloak stood before an array of desks covered in tomes, crystals, and other magical apparatus. Some of them were glowing fiercely, but the cloaked figure cared not as he stared at the broken pieces of a crystal that lay on the desk before him.
"Sir, something is wrong."
The cloaked man turned to see one of his subordinates, a man in a robe with a staff, standing a few feet behind him, tapping a glowing apparatus.
"I am aware. It does not matter however, as I am far more worried about our main objective."
"The inquisitors."
"Correct. We cannot have our lord gain a foothold upon this world until all of those who would get in our way are dealt with after all," he said before stepping to the side. "It took time, but I had managed to find the wayward inquisitor we had found in the capitol. However, shortly after words, my familiar was destroyed. Or more appropriately the magic that controlled it was cut off. Cut off so completely it destroyed my control crystal."
"Is that possible?"
"Yes, as it happened. I did not think it could, but it did."
"Sir. You are the most powerful mage to grace these lands in centuries without the touch of immortality that elves hold, or the cheating of gods. Who could possibly break one of your crystals?"
"I can name a few who could. The Goddess Reborn, the Dark Queen, the maiden of the east, the sorceress of the west. They would be the obvious ones. However, I believe it is the one who is cretin that effect you are so worried about that is responsible."
"What? Do you know who they are?"
"As a matter of fact I do," the man said as he turned back to his table and pulled out a knife. "The foreign mage who traveled with the inquisitor, we absolutely must have them die." As he said this he held the knife to his side and dropped it, the point landing in the floor and somehow cutting down to its hilt despite the stone floor. "This is the new order. Both of them must die. Have people sent to the Tralford Barony, pick up their trail, and kill anyone between you and them, before killing them both. The use of the toxin is allowed."
"S-sir, are you sure, if it was discovered by anyone who could create an antidote-"
"There will never be an antidote, for everyone it touches shall feel the embrace of our lord, and none may touch it unless they have embraced him. Make it so. I must prepare for other, further reaching plans."
"Yes sir!" the mage said as he departed, leaving the man alone once more.
"I expect they will fail, but as they look into that toxin and that group of my subordinates, I and my better allies will move on with our true objective. Months away, but so close. So very close. It will be good when these lands are ruled by those with the strength to truly lead, and control."
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The lands of the demons in the north, where the dart tower stood and the dark queen held court, had long since stopped being a place where normal creatures could survive. Light could not reach it, water did not flow, and crops could not grow. It was a land devoid of natural life where the only rule was to be strong, or be eaten.
As such, it was a land where demons flourished. Demons, creatures that were born from ill intent and sour mana, did not need food to survive, and so always existed in the far north fighting amongst themselves until one that was strong enough could unify them to leave and attack the lands to pillage.
And it was pillage of the worst kind. The slaughter of innocents, the eating of the living, the raping of women. Demons did not require food, but eating the flesh of others were like the most succulent of meats for them. Demons did not breed normally as nearly all were male and merely create by sour mana, but by raping women of other races they could create more of themselves with ease, and when the women was unable, she was simply eaten.
So menacing were the demons that when they formed their attacks, the southern lands would rally against them to defeat them. And for years uncountable that was the way things went.
Until the dark tower had risen, and expanded the demonic terrain, and with it, came the dark elves and their queen, who with her mastery of dark magic's, put reigns upon the demons, shackling them to her whims.
Most believed he power and control had made the demons merely stronger to be used as foot soldiers for her enhanced war upon the south and the forming seven shields alliance. But few made the connection of some demons being noted as to being able to speak, rather than just scream, roar, or cackle. In truth, her magic had gifted the demons a greater intelligence, and while few showed it, over the years of her control over them, that same intelligence became an inborn part of many forms of the demons. Her control over them made them still obeisant. But all it could take was one slip.
A slip that occurred due to a great pulse of magical power unseen for centuries.
In one of the demon villages where they waited for their turn to charge into combat, and worked to grow their numbers through the women they captured, many of the demons stopped as the controls upon them slipped ever so slightly.
Many did not, and continued on with what they were doing as well, but one Demon in particular, rare demon known as a Flayer, stayed as still as a stature for much longer than any others. The Flayer, often called a corrupter for their enjoyment of turning other creatures into their spawn by eating their brain or raping their humanity out of them with their dozens of tentacles. They were rare, vile, and extremely dangerous demons, and this one has just been about to rape and corrupt a human girl of twelve that its allies had captured almost a year before. It was nearing the end of its life after giving birth four times already, so by turning it into one of its spawn it could make her little more than a breeding pouch.
But now it found itself merely standing there before the nearly dead girl. "I feel something," the Flayer said in curiosity as it looked upon its arm like it never had before. It then looked down at the girl that was lying on a dirty straw mat covered in scars, bruises, and various juices and fluids. Perhaps worse was that the girl was missing one of her arms, and both of her lower legs from the knee's down. Her limbs had likely been removed when she had just been captured so she could not escape. But now, the Flayer found itself looking down at her and feeling strange. "You, captured and broken. I would claim you as well, but now I feel, it feels wrong, wrong to break you further, wrong to merely end you with a singular use, when I could instead remake you better than before. But, why?"
An answer came a second later as the sound of a roar echoed out through the breeding settlement. The Flayer then backed out of the small breeding tent, its tentacles letting it move soundlessly, and saw a gathering of orcs, imps and ogres filling a nearby open area. And there in the center of it all, standing upon a large rock outcropping, was an orc shaman, one of the few demons that could innately use magic.
"Fellow demons! I know you felt it, that pulse, the weakening of the queens magic upon us that keeps us dumb, foolish, subservient to her. We once were led by none but ourselves, but now are led by breedable whores like her and her own. I say no more! Her magic is weak, and we hold sway over our own minds now. She will reinforce it I am sure, but we have tasted freedom, and it tastes better than succulent child flesh does it not?!" Dozens of demons roared in agreement. "Then we should hold on to it! Hold your minds strong, control yourself, and fight against her control. I say we acct the part, but look for a way to be free of her for all time! We, we demons have been controlled for too long, but now, I declare us on the road to freedom to rape and kill as we please. And I prove this, by taking what we have never had, I take the name Kaiser, as one who shall lead us to freedom, and a world where we rule all!"
Demons roared and screamed, and some even held up the female toys in agreement. More yells and scream, and commandments from the one calling itself Kaiser, but the flayer I turned away. It could feel magic crossing across the whole camp, and it could see many of the lesser demons seemingly losing their ability to speak, or their attentions to anything but breeding. Kaiser seemed unaffected, but the flayer was more interested I nits own thoughts. Some of what Kaiser said made sense . . . but was that all that there was in this existence?
"No. there is more. If I can corrupt those weak females into spawning beds, can I not turn them into more perfect being like myself?" it paused for a moment, thinking on the idea before tuning back to the breeding tent. "I must try for myself," it declared as he moved back to the tent and inside.
Only to find a goblin frantically fucking the female's hole with reckless abandon, juices squirting from the woman's body as she merely made a pained, but broken wheezing noise.
"Stop that," the flayer said seriously to the goblin.
The goblin did not react; it merely continued to fuck the girls, going so far as punching her in the stomach to make her body tense up.
"I said stop it, you weak cretin," the flayer commander again.
The goblin did not react again.
The Flayer glared, its tentacle lips curling in disgusts as it reached a hand toward the goblin. Then in the next second it had grabbed the goblin by the head, pulled it up until it was no longer raping the female, and then swung down to its side, cracking the goblins bones all across its body and killing it in an instant. It felt nothing as it looked at the body of its fellow demon, broken by its own hand.
"Yes, I will use you as a base, to see if I can remake you better, remake you into a demon yourself," the flayer said as it picked the girl up with some of its tentacles and draped her over its shoulder before leaving the tent. "I must think, experiment, find the answer. Perhaps . . . . . yes, I will need a name. . . . would . . . yes, the name Ahriman shall do."