This is a little thing I've been tossing around for a while. I do hope you enjoy this. Please read and review and tell me what you think.

Jay

Washington DC, Friday, July 13th, 2010. Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. 9:00 pm.

The Smithsonian museum was playing host to dignitaries of state, science, and culture as the museum once again unveiled another priceless artifact of substantial importance to the antiquities world. All the grand names in artifact salvation were there, talking over their finds and buzzing about the mysterious artifact. One such famous dignitary was the lady in red of the evening.

Lady Eryn de Carnia was one of the visiting dignitaries. The Italian bombshell was one of the Continent’s most prominent researchers in Renaissance studies. In the last twelve years, she had uncovered at least forty new truths that had been overlooked by the masses of excavators over the years. She smiles and smirked and laughed politely as the throngs of people milled about, talking about her latest work. Brilliant white teeth sparked under striking crimson lipstick that accented the brilliant ruby earrings and necklace that made the custom red silk Dolce & Gabbana dress look beyond stunning.

She was the talk of the party.

Yet another well known mistress of the party was making quite a splash in the room full of high society: Miss Shuri Fidatov. An art dealer from Romania, the young woman had established herself as a successful art broker that dealt along the lines as all the other Fidatov women. Since 1830, the Fidatov matriarchs had been the guiding force in the art world. They exuded two qualities: timeless beauty and timeless style. Tonight was no different. Miss Fidatov was quietly discussing artworks with all that approached her: there was practically a line. The young woman wore her striking crimson hair up in a high braid that showed of her supple back and curves, not hiding a bit of her body that was wrapped in a classic Prada black satin gown.

Needless to say, this gala had attracted two of the most prominent names in the cultural world. But it had also attracted some of the newer names. One such “child in the field” was actually a child: the prodigy Rosa Varga from Hungary. Clad simply in her dark violet satin gown, she listened with unabashed fascination to the stories the older and more experienced surveyors and doctors spoke of. She, in her own right, was vastly famous for more of her research on almost every aspect of Transylvania. She received high praise too, from Lady de Carnia who commented that “such a fine child has indeed chosen a most interesting field and a most fabulous dress.

Rosa was more that flushed with glee at such high praise

The gala stretched on, edging closer to the midnight unveiling of the mysterious artifact, with its usual free flowing champagne and shrimp puffs, idle banter, and bored dignitaries. In fact, for Lady Eryn de Carnia, it was becoming almost unbearable. She had slipped off to one of the upper levels of the museum to catch her breath when she saw Miss Fidatov sneaking out of a supply closet.

Her lips were covered in blood.

“Shuri...darling…really. Have some courtesy at least!” Lady de Carnia said mockingly, pulling a compact and a handkerchief out of her clutch. “You look positively savage with that blood and those fangs.” She cackled lightly as the art critic and gallery owner jumped at her voice.

“My, how good it is to see such an old friend” Shuri bit out, snatching the offered products and beginning to make herself presentable. The redhead looked over at the Lady and smirked. “Still playing the part of Lady de Carnia? I thought you rather hated the part, Erilyn d’Medici!”

Eryn, or rather Erilyn, laughed her high-pitched laugh of sophistication. “My dear Vampiress Shuri, we succubae never tire of playing the part of women in power. It has been some time since I could use the name Medici! Our family line is thought to be dead!” The succubus smiled and took back her compact. “Keep the handkerchief. I have plenty of such items.”

“No doubt…” grumbled Shuri, leaning over the banister and looking around the room. “It has been a while since we last saw each other though…” she said.

“Indeed!” cried Erilyn, smiling fondly. “I do believe it was during the storming of Berlin when you and I managed to steal most of the artifacts that dear Adolf had amassed.” She smirked and took a sip from her champagne flute. “Stupid man. So easy for me to control and for you to exploit…” The two women shared a look and began to laugh. “Though his own delusions did help a bit. His hatreds especially!”

Their laughter stopped when a gasp went up from the crowd below. Both women arched a dainty eyebrow and looked towards where the gasps were turning into a dull murmur of surprise and shock.

“Oh goddess no…” Erilyn growled, nearly crushing her glass.

“Cursed day!” cried Shuri, throwing the bloodied handkerchief to the side where Erilyn promptly incinerated it in her anger

There, standing in the doorway with a devastating smile and an elegant suit was one Monsieur Adrian TOUSSANT: a legend in the historical community. When it came to dealing with any time period on the continent, particularly around Great Britain and France, he was the man to see. His family, an ancient family that had supported and fought along side William the Conqueror in 1066, preserved the heritage of the past for both of these countries within their massive, ancient, and well guarded castles. Now the only living member of the family, a long running “curse” that caused so many people to die suddenly in the family, Adrian had taken the duty upon himself to follow in the family’s footsteps and make himself known at the galas. Yet he rarely crossed the pond.

Anything that brought him to the America’s was quite prominent.

He nodded around the room and did, as was expected from him by now, his usual routine of grabbing a flute of champagne an ascending the stairs towards the highest level: directly towards Erilyn and Shuri. As the man appeared on their floor, Shuri glared at him and scanned his image.

The same youthful face she had encountered in Munich in 1819, a year before her turning, shone back at her, emerald eyes dancing with perverse pleasure at getting under the two lady’s skin. A simple black suit that harkened back to the Victorian era was adorned with subtle silver wisps and a tie that was stitched with emerald thread finished his other worldly appearance. His cane tapping lightly on the marble floors of the museum solidified his position as a gentleman: his smile made him the playboy.

“My my my…such old faces here…” he purred, raising his glass and saluting both women. “Dear me…I have naught seen you this radiant Miss Medici since we crossed paths in El Dorado in 1572. That was some pagan god you upset…” He smirked and cut off her angry tirade that he knew was coming. It had been he that upset the god: she had just gotten the blame. “And Miss Fidatov! What a surprise. I have not laid eyes on you since our wonderful outing in Vatican City. Tell me, did you ever manage to kill John Paul? Oh no…that is correct. It was my department Oh, such a shame. You really must find more reliable men to carry out your contracts in the future…” The young man chuckled and turned to look over the room, eyes scanning each individual.

“You arrogant bastard!” Shuri growled, looking ready to lunge forward and bite the young man’s neck. “How can you know just which buttons to push to send me over the edge?”

“Nine hundred and sixty years of practice in existence gives me an edge in more than just pushing your buttons my dear juvenile vampires” the man purred lightly, sipping his champagne and grimacing at its flavor. “God…must they always serve cheap swill at these things?”

“You never change…do you Necromancer?” Erilyn asked with a grudging smile of respect. This had been this man that introduced her to the world of artifacts that had allowed her to slide around the world in her five hundred plus years of existence. She smiled lightly. “At least you being here is undeniable proof that this artifact is something of power. I’m assuming it is Atlantian?”

“Possibly. At the moment, I am assuming it is just the three of us vying for the rights then?” He looked over at the two women, a calm expression in his eyes. This wasn’t the first time that he and Erilyn or he and Shuri had come to blows over paragons of power. It had rather become a fanciful and almost pleasant exchange for the three timeless beings.

Except for the bleeding and the massive amounts of structural damage.

“Besides the usual smugglers, crime lords, and political bastards here to try and steal it, there is one other force at work…” Shuri said calmly, looking around for the young man she had spotted earlier.

“I assume you mean the rather awkward, but devilishly handsome young man standing by the Hope Diamond room?” Adrian asked, gesturing towards the young red headed young man with deep chocolate eyes standing near the Jewel Room. “An exorcist eh? It appears the Order of the Silver Dawn is not as dead as I had hoped…” he mused, letting his eyes scan the other man.

“His name is Johann Farquittsen,” Erilyn said calmly, looking the boy over. “He is posing as a reporter for an antiquities dealer in Copenhagen. However…the little intricate crosses on his cufflinks, the high collar, and the intricate silver ring on his right hand are tells.” She paused and sniffed lightly, her eyes narrowing. “No lingering sent of gunpowder…so he isn’t a Soul Caliber…”

“His hands aren’t calloused either…” Shuri said, watching the boy with deep seeded hatred. “That means no Light Forge…”

“So he must be a Blessings user…” the Necromancer purred from next to the succubus in red. His eyes flashed and a smirk crossed his lips. “I would enjoy clashing spells with him…but alas…I believe midnight is here.”

Chimes began to ring throughout the museum. Everyone began to make their way to the atrium, moving to mull around and stare up at the veiled dais. The three figures descended the upstairs and stood in the back eyeing the other guests and watching hungrily at the director of the Smithsonian.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Now is the time you have all been waiting for! After centuries of search, we finally have proof of what was recorded in ancient Greece! An island civilization of great power! Ladies and gentlemen of the world, I present the Atlantian Keystone!” With a flourish, the director whipped off the cover to unveil a glowing turquoise stone with black onyx runes. Eyes hungrily ate up the artifact as a deadly smirk rose to the lips of Monsieur Adrian TOUSSANT.

“I dare say my dear friends, that the greatest race of our existences is about to begin.”

As the crowd stood and looked around, gasping in awe, Johann Farquittsen made his move. With a nod to the hired thugs, he stepped back into the shadows. The thugs pulled guns and began to fire into the air.

Awe turned to chaos.

People began to run. The mass of delegates and dignitaries swarmed towards the door. Shuri let out a strangled cry as she was caught up in the swell of humanity. The vampiress let out a feral growl and charged back towards the dais. Her fangs and nails began to slash into the humans. More screams rent the air as blood splashed upon the white marble. The woman’s silver eyes were beginning to get tinged with red flecks: her bloodlust beginning to consumer her being.

As the crowds pushed through and Shuri was pushed away, Erilyn and Adrian stepped back. The young man’s cane flashed left and right, slamming into the heads of people that were getting in his way. He very calmly beat his way under the stair well and stood away from the swarming masses. Erilyn calmly moved to the wall. Her presence alone was enough to keep people from bumping into her. Her emerald contacts shimmered as she lit a cigarette and took a puff, delighting in the chaos around her.

Johann nodded to the thugs. Two men ran off to lock the door. He smiled and nodded sagely.

“A job well done” he said cockily. He raised an eyebrow at the sounds of cracking and breaking coming from near the door. He turned around and his eyes widened when the body of one of his hired goons slammed into the wall next to him. Shuri Fidatov was standing in front of the door, the other man the exorcist had sent to close the doors held firmly in her hands: she was breaking his neck with cruel delight. The vampiress cackled with glee before tossing the broken man aside.

“Wow…she’s a bitch huh?” came a little girl’s voice. Standing on the stairs was Rosa Varga. The little woman was surrounded by snaking silver chains. She smiled oddly, her steel eyes dancing. “I’d say that the three of us are in the running then?”

“Check your eyes brat” came Erilyn’s voice. She stepped forward and dusted off the hem of her dress. She looked up and cackled. Her emerald contacts glowed brilliantly before shattering and flying out of her eyes and away from her face. The shards embedded themselves next to the Keystone. She took a drag from her cigarette and flicked off the ashes. “Honestly…upstart children…”

“Such annoying things really…” Adrian purred as he stepped out from under the stairs. The young man shrugged lightly. “Not at though they actually matter…” he said softly, staring at his fingernails in a bored manner.

“You sir…shouldn’t be here!” Johann cried out. He pointed two fingers at the respected TOUSSANT and cried out “Aufero is vir ex malum!” A flash of white light and a cross slammed into Adrian’s chest. The Frenchman let loose a scream. Johann and the other’s stared in shock as the body of the twenty year old man disappeared in a blinding flash of white light. As the blinding light dissipated, the body of a sixteen year old boy stood there.

A very pissed off sixteen year old.

“Have you no respect for the dead?” the necromancer hissed out. His eyes flashed and with a flick of his wrist brought forth his cane. He smiled as it glided into his hands before glaring at the exorcist. The “I challenge you boy, to a magi’s duel.” The necromancer stood pointedly and waited. His eyes betrayed nothing as he stared down the exorcist. “Well?”

“I…um…” Johann looked confused as he looked uncertainty around. He finally nodded and dropped back lightly. “How do we commence?” He stuttered slightly and looked around again, licking his lips. A devilish smirk crossed the lips of the necromancer.

“With a charge you simpleton” the necromancer barked out and flicked his wrist at the exorcist. A bolt of emerald energy flew from the outstretched hand and slammed into the holy knight’s chest. The plume of silver smoke circled around Johann as the exorcist coughed and choked on the stifling air. The intricate cross buttons glowed fiercely and a light mist of white energy surrounded the Dane.

“Try harder” the redhead choked out before pulling a book out from his coat. He flipped through several pages and raised three fingers. He began circling the book with his raised hand, muttering in Italian. Adrian raised an eyebrow and sneered at the chanting man.

“Cheep tricks and a book?” the boy asked tauntingly. “You are a weakling.” He cackled as the exorcist launched a large salvo of white and volatile energies as him. With a wave of his hand, the energies waved off, flying into the walls next to and behind him. A smirk crossed his face and he launched forward, throwing several needles of emerald energy as the Dane’s outstretched hand. The screams of pain that erupted were cut off when the sixteen year old Frenchman, who was floating slightly in front of the Dane and slowly lifting the exorcist off the floor by his throat.

“You’re supposed to burn in holy fire” Johann choked out. He struggled lightly then gasped out as the needled disappeared into his flesh, slowly numbing his nerves. He let out a panicked squeak.

“You can’t die when you’re the avatar of the Grim Reaper boy” Adrian whispered demonically. His eyes glowed as he hoisted the exorcist above his head and threw him into the air. “And now my boy, I bid you a Bon Nuit de la Vivant Mourir!” With a spin of his cane and a lifting of his palm, the necromancer threw Johann into the far wall, blasting him with a black bolt of energy. “Too bad he had to be screwing with the cross or I’d take a shot at him…” The necromancer shrugged and turned back to the other’s, dusting himself as he walked down an invisible staircase to stand next to the Keystone again. “And then there were four…”

“So how many am I going to have to beat up to get my way!?” cried Rosa Varga. The three ancient combatants raised an eyebrow and glared at the little alchemist on the stairs. They scowled.

“Troglodyte” Erilyn dropped her cigarette and glared at the younger girl. “Please tell me you don’t actually think that you stand a chance?” The succubus cackled and shook her head. The young Rosa scowled and vaulted off the stairs and into thin air. She twirled several times in the air before righting herself right above the succubus. Thousands of metal chains spiraled around Erilyn and tied her in a column that Rosa promptly stood upon. The girl giggled.

“So I beat one crabby lady!” Rosa laughed out and posed. A string of demonic curses came from inside the loose column of chains followed by a flash of fire. Rosa let out a strangled scream and she fell, being lashed by hundreds of flaming chains erupting from the exploded and melting column of her metal. When the flames died down, Erilyn stalked out, a coiled whip of fire in her hands. “Um…whoops?” Rosa managed from her new perch on the floor. Erilyn just sneered.

“Oops indeed…” the succubus purred out. She flicked her whip across Rosa’s chest. The girl screamed out. The whip lashed again and again. Each blow caused the girl to scream out. Those screams mixed with the crack of the whip and the sizzle of the seared flesh. After the fifteenth blow, Erilyn stopped and coiled her whip. She sneered down at the girl and poked her with the tow of her boot. “Arrogant little brat. Even you hold out longer Shuri.” The succubus looked around and growled. “Damn sneak!” she screamed and sent three columns of flames slamming into different walls. The scorch marks damaged the marble, but the vampiress was nowhere to be found.

“Now where could she be…” Adrian mused. There was a flash of light and the Keystone disappeared. The glass doors shattered and Shuri’s red hair could be seen flying through. The necromancer raised and eyebrow before laughing and disappearing in a spiral of black and silver energy. The succubus looked to where he was and dashed towards the door, vaulting through and disappearing in a cloud of flames and brimstone.

“Hah! No one can match me in the air!” Shuri cackled. She jumped along the Smithsonian buildings, dodging antennas and air conditioners. With a bound, she sailed over Pennsylvania Avenue and landed on the curve of the Capital’s dome. She smirked and looked at the keystone in her hand. “I win” she whispered.

“Think so pet?” purred Erilyn’s sultry voice. The vampiress looked up to see the succubus standing on top of the statue at the apex of the dome. A blast of fire knocked some plaster away from where the vampiress had been standing. Shuri whirled around and hurled a blast of shadows at the succubus. The two women stared each other down only to sneer. The succubus launched forward, her nails scraping across the vampiress throat. Shuri hissed and back flipped off of the dome while kicking the succubus in the face.

“Come at me you old hag!” cried the vampiress. She threw several small vials of black liquid down towards the succubus. The demon glared and jumped over the vials, smirking as the glass shattered and the acid bit into the white dome of the Capital building.

“Not this time you little bitch” the demon growled. With a simple circle of her right hand, her whip of flames slithered out. Erilyn smirked and flicked her wrist, curling the whip around Shuri’s ankle. The vampiress cried out in pain before gasping as she was flung towards the ground. She landed on the ground of the mall with a simple hand vault.

“Jeeze…” Shuri cursed lightly. She began twisting her fingers, pulling several strands of shadows into her palms. The soft Japanese was reminiscent of a ninja’s curse. She snapped her eyes open and send forward a dragon of shadows at the succubus. She darted off down the mall towards the Washington Monument as the dragon snaked into the darkness. She cackled to herself as Erilyn screamed out in frustration as the shadows entrapped her. “Home free” she whispered as she skidded through the grass and leaned against one of the flagpoles that surrounded the monument.

“Ce n’est pas la situation mo petit fleur…” purred a voice from the side of the monument. Shuri cursed and turned to run. She leapt into the air only to feel something tug on her throat. She let out a strangled cry before choking and slamming back into the ground. She looked over at Adrian. The boy smirked. “You are undead after all…” His eyes flashed green. “Now hand it over.” The girl let out a strangled sob of resentment before rolling the Atlantian Keystone over to the necromancer. He motioned for her to stand, his command over the undead sending her walking towards the National Aquarium. “Now then…” the boy said quietly. He pointed his palm at the ground and began chanting.

“What are you doing?” Shuri screamed out. She was walking, against her will, into the darkened street. She glared back at the boy, hissing angrily.

“Sending you home” Adrian said with a grin. A silver portal opened up and Shuri screamed as she was thrown through. Two seconds later, she was back in Romania. Her scream caused many people to wake up in that village. Most of them wouldn’t wake up again.

“Almost too easy” Adrian said, bending down to pick up the keystone. A fire blast stopped him. “You’re getting out of her Shadow traps much faster lovely” the boy said quietly. He stood, leaving the keystone on the ground. His hair swirled around and knotted itself into a braid. The silver and emerald dyes in the ebony glistened in the floodlights on the Mall. “So this is like old times then…” he said quietly.

“It would appear so” the succubus smirked. She shook her head and breathed a sigh of relief as her horns stretched out, breaking out and sending fire into the air. “So our usual fight?” she asked lightly, summoning her other whip. She stretched and stared down at the teenager. The boy grinned.

“No summoning extras, no damning, no killing. Maiming is ok” the boy groused lightly. He took up his cane and smiled as he drew the thin blade from it. “Deal?”

“Deal” Erilyn said. She stared out and smiled. “Ready?”

“Always” the boy whispered. He dropped back into a stance and leveled his sword at her. Erilyn smirked and launched forward, her whips flashing towards him. The lashes slapped along the ground next to the necromancer.

Adrian didn’t flinch.

The boy countered by launching forward, his sword slashing and nicking roughly at her corset. The succubus flinched and cursed loudly. She growled and slapped down with her elbow, catching the boy on his shoulder. He let out a curse and fell, sliding under her legs and slashing at her boots. The succubus cursed loudly.

“Those were new you damn bitch!” she cried out. She arched her whip over her back and slapped it down on the ground before turning and bending one of her fire whips into a rune and sending a huge column of flames at the boy. The necromancer sent up a column of green flames that started up a huge flash of steam. The boy back flipped and slid across the grass to settle into a fencer’s stance. With a growl he launched forward and slashed across and at her palms, cutting one of the fire whips off at the handle.

“Even odds” the boy quipped before sliding past and swinging his sword back to nip along the corset again, biting at the opposite side. The two demonic daggers hidden in her corset fell out. With a smile, the boy spun around and threw a fist full of necrotic energy. The boy spun on his palm and flipped, landing lightly on his feet and grinning. “Still too slow” he giggled lightly. Erilyn just glared.

“You and I both know that our schools have nothing to do with speed” she said quietly. The whip of flames coiled and fizzled as she looked him in the eye. “Shall we stop playing?” She began circling flames around herself, creating a conflagration around herself, wisps of flames creating images of power around herself.

“If you insist my old friend” Adrian whispered. He sheathed his sword and stepped back before cracking his knuckles and watching as huge swirls of grey erupted around him. A smirk crossed his face. “So let us weave then!”

The powers of necromancy and fire have one great strand in common: they are most powerful when woven. Necromancy is woven through the cycle of birth, death, and resurrection. Fire is weaved through its consumption of oxygen and its expansion. Both are woven: the longer the weave, the stronger the magic.

Erilyn wove on an Infernal Loom. The flames swirled between her brackets, forming strong threads of immortal flames. Fires of all different colors flew from her fingertips as she wove, threading the flames into a tapestry of a million different colors and a million different meanings.

Adrian wove like a musician: everything was fluid. His movements were that of a violinist, for he was playing on the violin of death: the Spectral Arc. Great strains of grey and green and black and silver fused as he swayed back and forth, playing nocturne after nocturne.

The maelstroms of energy clashed. Fire circled around darkness while death invaded the flames. The firestorm slammed in from the left while the cloud of death circled from the right. The huge cacophony crashed around. The odd flame struck Adrian, but he didn’t flinch. The random tendril of darkness lashed at Erilyn, but she stood her ground. Both continued weaving: thread for note, stitch for bow stroke. Erilyn smirked and began to embroider. Her work became more illusive. The tougher strands flicked and beckoned for the darkness to fail. The flames were overwhelming, crushing the Nocturne of Death with each passing stitch. The flames advanced to the hem of the boy’s coat.

And then the song changed.

The haunting strains of the Nocturne were replaced with the furious sounds of the Allegro. The assault of the notes took the succubus by surprise. The darkness doubled and death raced on white hoofs. The flames were beaten back. Erilyn wove frantically. Her stitches crossed rapidly, her eyes darted worriedly. And all the while darkness advanced. She added more variation, widened the frame, poured in the power. Her tapestry grew long and vibrant. Thousands of flames licked along the loom. But darkness still advanced.

And then the loom snapped.

The flames fell into disarray. They scattered and flew outward, crashing around in an unorganized pattern. And the darkness slammed into Erilyn de Medici. She screamed as she was lifted up in a column of energy. The winds of emerald tore at her body, the winds of silver tore at her mind, and the winds of black tore at her being. She screamed and screamed and then the world fell to black.

Adrian stopped playing and let her body fall to earth. He waved his hand, gathering up his cane and his violin and throwing them both into the shadows of the Nether. He casually stepped over the unconscious demon and retrieved his prize.

“Sorry my dear demon” he said with a smirk, “I’ve had a few hundred more years of practice than you…” He turned and pointed at her, a violet orb appearing around his outstretched index finger. “But I can at least send you home.” There was a flash, and the body was gone, sent back to Hell to recover itself.

The boy smirked and turned, pocketing the Atlantian Keystone and walking slowly away from the Washington Monument. He walked out, away from the city. He walked past the monuments of men long dead, past the centers for this and that and money grubbing and people watching. He passed the places of memoriam, the places of power, and the places of failure and scandal. He finally stopped in the middle of the only place in Washington D.C. that he found any peace.

Arlington National Cemetery.

“And now, the new chapter begins” Adrian TOUSSANT mused. The necromancer cackled as he looked at the Keystone. The pale blue glow showed several markings, several places for other things to be placed. The boy smirked and looked to the sky. “So this is just the beginning? I have to find more to access this power? I have to prove you bastards existed?” The clear sky shone with stars. The new moon revealed nothing. “Then I shall find every Paragon I can! You’re Paragons of Power!” The boy roared into the night sky, his energies rattling the trees around the gravestones. “And once I show the gods that your power is mine, I will have my Roreck back!” Adrian threw a curse to the skies before turning to the earth. A large stairwell of grey marble appeared and opened up, leading down into the underworlds. The necromancer smirked and began to enter, his voice echoing and bouncing back out to the night sky.

“You cannot deny Death fate! It simply isn’t done!”

The stairwell disappeared back into the ground and the necromancer was gone.