"Oh yes, yesyesyes, you are perfect!" She gasped.
Her turquoise eyes gleamed, bright and obsessive. Black, unnatural hair spilled around her. Pale skin shimmered under the moonlight like a fresh corpse. Her torn black dress looked like it's barely hanging onto a skeleton.
"He wasn't lying. You really are my King Crow. Everything I ever wanted."
Her thoughts spiraled.
He'll understand.
My table, my feast, my altar of love. We'll feast on each other…
Yes, couldn't he? He loves me.
Then he spoke.
"Look, woman,"
Ah! My glorious crow acknowledged me! He sees me!
"You attacked me, which is kinda dumb…" King Crow muttered. "I just got my ass kicked by a goddamn dragon and lived."
Oh, my King doesn't hold back his will. I'll devour it. Nurture it.
Together, we'll birth a great crow.
She danced, rubbing her arms, her ribs, her face in euphoric rhythm, intoxicated by his presence.
So many inside him.
Like us!
"Uh… hey?" He blinked. "Are we not gonna fight or…?"
No no no, not yet, not until we make love through blood.
"You are everything! I love you!" She blurted out, delirious, covering her mouth.
"Sorry," he said, deadpan. "It's kinda hard for me to think of love. Too many souls screaming at me, y'know?"
His souls talked to him?
Devils, I love him more.
He will see my love.
He just doesn't know it yet.
I'll cut off his limbs and show him!
She raised her hands. Crows burst from her body, flooding the air. They melted into flame, and from the inferno rose her scythe, crafted from the bones of lovers, enemies, and the ones who dared to call her "too much." Her favored weapon a scythe named, Crowmarrow.
Violet fire engulfed the entire grotesque weapon.
She laughed, a hymn, a howl, a wedding vow.
"Oh, King of Crows," she whispered, weeping. "My love- my everything- will be yours."
"Pfft, sure," he muttered. "Crazy bitch."
He raised a hand. A tiny red fairy sleeping, pulsing with chaos magic, rested in his palm.
"Go home Viir…" He whispered.
Then a flash of crimson light.
It vanished.
Oh! He wants to be alone… My love, my wrath, is charging me.
He will be one with us.
He raised his red blade and charged.
Crowmarrow met Soulsword. The hit forced a shockwave of screaming souls.
Crow of Crows reeled.
"What the?" He frowned. "She counters Souleater? She really uses soul magic? The hell Souleater. Twice in one day?"
He swung again.
This time, she was too slow.
My love wants my head.
But her body shattered. One hundred crows burst apart from her form, swirling into the air like a tornado and reformed behind him.
She slammed the scythe into his back.
"Gah!" He spat. Blood stained the moss beneath his boots.
"Oh my, that's spilled ink across my love letter to you!"
"Not bad." He groaned.
She moaned pulling the scythe out then danced.
"Yes, yes, yes bleed for me, my King…"
He twisted his body, staggering and flung his hand toward her.
A crack of chaos magic erupted.
The ground tore beneath her feet, black spikes hissing past her, warping the air itself. Her body arched, bones cracking backward as she dodged them, laughing.
"Did you curse the land itself just to kill me?" She gasped. "You do care!"
The crow knight was smiling. She saw it, his beautiful lust to fight.
He raised his right arm, the armor cracked, split open, it wasn't blood, but magic. A spiral of crimson threads burst from it like veins, now seeking a prey. The air stank of iron, death, divinity.
"Oh… that's new," she whispered.
He spoke for the first time with conviction, voice mocking and cold:
"Let's have some fun."
The blood from his wounds didn't fall.
It rose.
It formed.
A crown of blood thorns. His blood turning into spikes. Launching their way at her. She felt it, he was dripping with the excitement of every soul he'd devoured.
His beautiful face wants to be peeled off.
She slashed again and again. Humming as the spikes shattered and violet fire consumed the blood shards.
"You're beautiful," she whispered. "You will be mine."
He charged again. His smile open.
This wasn't swordplay anymore.
This was wrath turned flesh.
His beautiful sword slammed into her blessed scythe; bones shook, muscles tensed, and souls screamed around them. She barely deflected his blade with her scythe before his blood tendrils wrapped around her ankle and slammed her into the tree.
The bark of trees shattered. Her spine sang a gorgeous tune.
"Oh, devils, you're going to kill me," she giggled through the pain. "I love it. I love you!"
Magic caught her. Unable to move.
He's holding me!
We love that!
She vanished again, splintering into a murder of crows mid-laugh, only to reform above him.
Her scythe came down, jagged and haunting, aimed for his heart.
He caught it with his hand.
Violet fire sizzled against his palm. Blood ran between his fingers. His teeth clenched, but his eyes-
Fury. Passionate. Lustful. Challenging.
"This is what you call love," he mocked. "Pfft, you're just another lunatic who wants to use me."
"No," she cooed, leaning close. "I want us to be one."
She kissed him.
It was bloody. Violent.
Our teeth cracked.
I think one of mine broke.
Our first kiss!
He shoved her back so hard she bounced off the forest floor.
But he is gasping now.
Weakened. Not from wounds. From the kiss.
From the delicious curse.
"Let it out," she sang. "Cry for me, kill me, love me."
She felt a wave of chaos energy in every direction. He leaned back then forward. Vomiting black fire.
She matched with a fury of crows that burst from her body.
Her crows burned in the black fire. The air howled as the two magics ended one another.
The King Crow punched his fingers into his bleeding wound and threw tiny blood pins. She was laughing moving away before one hit her arm, the blood magic started to spread. Turning her blood, tainting, using it to spread to her heart.
Never have we loved someone like this!
Even the stupid hero was not this much fun!
She held her arm and lit it on fire. She screamed, not in pain but pure raw ecstasy. Her violet fires cleansed her cursed beautiful blood.
Tattered. Bleeding. Smiling. She was still standing.
"I'll never leave you," she promised. "Even if you kill me. Especially if you kill me."
Rhenvar collapsed to one knee, breathing ragged.
"…just…" he muttered. "Who the fuck are you…"
"Yes, how could I forget!" She screamed. "My name! I'm here! I'm the one bleeding with you! The great witch Corvessa!"
She bowed, then charged.
Corvessa slammed Crowmarrow down. Burning with violet flames.
It met Souleater.
And this time… both weapons screamed. Souls screaming against souls.
Their powers clashed, soulfire against soulsword and reality bent around the weapons. Both wanting to feed on each other.
The sky cracked above them with thunder.
Time hiccuped as it started raining.
They stood, panting, blades locked, eyes inches apart.
"You're not getting away," she whispered. "You're already mine. Your heart just hasn't stopped lying yet."
"…I've eaten souls more romantic than you," he teased.
Corvessa' smile widened.
"And I've kissed corpses colder than you."
"Have you?"
He moved in fast. Corvessa tried to move but she was held in place. Her King Crow grabbed her neck and forced a kiss. It was deep and passionate.
What?
No! Nononono.
"It doesn't feel good to be assaulted, does it?" He tossed her away.
It does!
We never felt that!
I love him!
Show him! Let's show him!
Her smile twisted again. This time, her obsession took form, wings of night burst from her back. Her bare feet cracked and reformed into talons. Crow feathers dripping with violet fire. Her final gift, her truest form, a bride forged in death. She soared in the air, a half woman-half bird monstrosity.
"This is the beauty I offer," she sang. "This is the love I'll carve into you."
Rhenvar exhaled, low and annoyed.
"Let's see if that dragon was full of shit," he muttered.
His black armor split. Crimson blood spilled from the armor like molten lava. Horns curled from his brow. Blood drenched wings tore free from his back vast, jagged, bleeding. His hands pulsed with black fire, and Souleater roared in his grip. Its blade igniting with black flame so cold it was unnatural.
He rose into the sky.
She met him there.
Violet fire clashed with obsidian hellflame and the sky forgot which god to fear. As if it was a lover's affair.