<span style="font-family:Philosopher">Since leaving Athea all those years ago, Daemon had explored the world. He had seen the forbidden shores of Rokua and been to the great island city of Narim near the fabled lands of the enigmatic Tsi'ari. He has met dozens of different cultures and peoples with a plethora of beliefs, fears, and sociological quirks. Fear of magic was almost universal in some parts of the world. Even those who did not fear magic, had a heavy mistrust of it's use. Daemon Longknife had his way of solving that particular issue, especially from a crew that hailed from all over the world. He had simply learned to channel more of his power in to the use of the ship and had shown them over and over again in how it made them rich. Whether it was being in enchanting the cannons to fire cannonballs the way they did or having carved runes along the entire keel of the ship that imbued the hull with properties more akin to steel than wood. <br/>
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It had come with sacrifices. The heavy use of his magike had caused him, in contrast to his ship, to feel broken inside. Days when he did not wake with blood on his pillow from his eyes or ears was uncommon. He had also become almost possessed a handful of times by... <i>others</i> that had been drawn to him like moths to the flame. Both pitfalls had been warned of by the Priests when he had been training. However, what they had not counted on was the iron will determination and strength of blood in one such as he. Drawing upon the unique nature of his bloodline, Daemon had been able to reach heights of power only found among the mythical <i>Godwalkers</i>. In fact, with his proximity to the ocean and his own form of power, he had felt a greater <i>awareness</i> tracking him as he had fled from the Hunter.<br/>
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In a way, the Hunter had that <i>entity</i> to blame for her current predicament. <br/>
Well, the Gods giveth and the Gods taketh..<br/>
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He watched with a willful stare as she seemed to tense up. It reminded him of being a child and hunting the great stag in the Mistcrown Hills above Nu'bero. He could still remember the doe he had found instead and burying the arrow from his bow deep in to her heart. She had tensed up the same way. Those blues eyes looked so startled, so much fear and panic. And now as then, like that deer from so long ago, the death glaze sets in and the face relaxes in peaceful repose. However, the woman before him had not been pierced by arrow but by submission. It was a visible breaking of spirit that had somehow disappointed Daemon. Here she was, supposedly a feared Hunter of such dread men as he and a little magic and the poor thing wilts. A smirk on his face as she moves to follow his commands, turning to frown as a flash of something on her thigh caught his eye. A Questing in that direction repelled him and his curiosity intensified. He had felt those before, something dark had struck her there and she had survived. With respect in the Hunter revived, he followed the marks to a flash of something on her inner thigh, something familiar looking that was soon obfuscated when she laid on her back.<br/>
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With yet another mystery to reveal in due time, his eyes drifted from her thighs to the patch of blond hair between her legs. Oh, how he would love to part her legs and thus reveal what he truly craved. In her current position it would not be difficult. She probably would even welcome such base desire from him compared to all the abnormal magic she had so far been witness to. With a clenching of teeth, he resisted that particular notion and looked up from thatch to belly to breasts that somehow remained majestic mountains even on her back, the pale pinks of each likewise tempting him to feel beneath fingertips and taste their sweet points. His hands clenched as he tore his eyes away to see that she had closed her eyes. She looked beautiful when at peace but frozen, like something seen in a portrait from centuries ago. He wanted to see those eyes again and feel the fear and vivaciousness in them once more. It was at that moment, something spiked from her and he leaned away from her suddenly, almost sneering at the psychic pain that had pulsed from her.<br/>
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With his defenses down as they had been and the recent exertion of his power having sapped a percentage of his strength, her psychic pang was enough to send his mind's eye in to her memories, like a riptide pulling him out in to unfamiliar and dangerous waters. Fractured images came to him of a familiar city although he could not name it from the garbled images. Scenes of depravity and wretched existence. It jumped suddenly to an attack on someone, a man who had killed someone.. close to her.. and that he tried killing her too.. <b>-</b> he didn't see more thankfully as he was able to reassert control and rip his mind back in to his body, stumbling back from her as he did and groaning almost audibly. Shaking his head to dispel the after-images of what he had seen, he tasted copper in his mouth and reached up idly to feel that his lips were bloody. During the memory vision he had bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw his blood.<br/>
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He stared at the blood on his fingertips dispassionately as he suddenly felt her eyes on him. He had taken a step back away from the bed and he stared in to those blue eyes and was gratified to see a semblance of the fire of earlier flickering in those eyes once more. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0080">"Your magic is practiced. It feels like a man from K'arnea."</span> He grinned a red smile at her before he stepped up to her once more.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d">"The magic, not the man."</span> Yet one more thing he would have to discover. The woman before him was layered in mysteries it seemed. It was an odd and ironic occurrence. With all clothing removed, the woman had revealed secrets.<br/>
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He leaned down and picked up the knife from the floor and pricked the points of his right index finger.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d">"Don't move. Don't speak." </span>He muttered as she laid before him once more. He took his bleeding index fingers and drew a rune around her belly button, noting that her skin was as soft as it looked. He then drew a matching symbol on her forehead after brushing away the few errant strands of hair that would obscure the symbol. Simple task completed, next came the hard part.<br/>
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Healing with blood magike was easier than some other forms of the healing arts. <i>In Blood is All Things</i>, the Priests had often said and it was true. Closing his eyes, he once more drew on the magic and found it almost eager, as if it wanted to feel the woman before him once more. A soft smile curled his face and this time the power flowed in to the gateways he had made on her forehead and belly and he could <i>feel</i> as it entered her blood and sped to every damaged part of her body in moments. Once more a sheen of sweat broke his forehead as he felt every sinew and shred of torn tissue. He frowned as he took in the bruised and hairline fractures in the rubs and shuddered as once more he drew on his energy stores to see her completely healed.<br/>
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When he opened his eyes once more, he let out a shaky breath as he took in the once more pristine and cured flesh of the woman before him.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff4d4d">"Now. Are you ready to perform?"</span></span>