His hand instinctively scooped his father's discarded blade from the ground. The hilt was warm, the entire blade dense with a seeming flow of power that invigorated him. He lept up the stairs to the throne, jamming the blade hard forward in a thrust as he came to a stop. the tip of the sword slammed into the back of the throne, and Dante opened his tightly clenched eyes. Bloodstained and scowling, Jareth Black stood impaled. He snarled in pain. "How did I... What happened..." he muttered, his rage quickly being replaced with disappointment. Zephiel stood, rubbing his half-bitten neck. "You see, Jareth, the council had decided you best for the appointed job, so that you could prove yourself--no, so WE could prove ourself, and get some leverage with them." He smirked. "The Council? You are in contact with the Council?" Jareth sputtered, now caught off guard for the second time. Dante had no idea what was going on between his fathers, and he took a step back. "No, no, no, no. I am ON the Shadow Council, Brother." Zephiel finished, and gripped the blade in Jareth's chest. "And even though it will indefinately destroy my chances to become as powerful as we were... I must stay loyal to that Council and slay you."
Jareth Black · Sat Aug 27, 2005 @ 09:32pm · 3 Comments |