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Chapter 5: To Make Dad Proud

(One Month Later)

It wasn't easy finding an outpost to set a foothold in the new world. The literal new world, a whole expanse of reality all for the Druchii's taking. No one native here were or ever will be aware of their presence, and there was no pesky Asur to interfere. This limitless wealth she stood upon was all for the glory of the Druchii alone. Allisara kept her nerves hard as steel and her wits sharp the entire time while initially everyone was freaking out when her fleet of Black Arks was suddenly transported from the docks of Naggarond to new waters.

Morathi's shrine was equipped onto her personal ship, which was then activated with the death of over 3,000 slaves to appease both Khaine and Khorne to give their power to the ritual. There would be no need to do another sacrifice as the shrine became a two-way portal but only enough for a full army to march through over the course of a whole day via another shrine resting within the city of Naggarond. Allisara wasn't going to be getting her allies on this on a whim with Black Arks. Father gave her permission to request more forces only when necessary, but Allisara wanted to avoid that as much as possible. Above all things, Allisara never wanted to be a bother to Father.

But right before going on this new frontier, Allisara had done something totally unprecedented in her life. She was thankful that it was done without any others to notice, but it still filled the dark elf with self-loathing and embarrassment. By Khaine, why did she have to be so stupid at that moment?!


Allisara's captain were barking out orders from across the Black Ark, calling all her forces for departure soon. The Witch Princess of the Druchii felt so small standing on the dock, but not because of the floating city set on the water so close to her. No, it was because of the most daunting mission ever thrusted upon her by her king and father. This was a task that will make the Druchii superior for eternity if - no, when done right, and she alone was responsible for its success. Failure was not an option, especially since it was her father that trusted her with this.

She had put on a mask of neutrality, but hidden beneath her composure Allisara was shaking. It felt as if the future of the Druchii, one of glory to surpass all other civilization, was hefted on her shoulders. Her breath felt it was crushed out of her lungs, and her feet felt numb on the dark stone floor of the dock. It was amazing that with her nerves betraying she didn't lose her balance or faint from the pressure of all this. Her senses were almost null stuck in Allisara's inner turmoil of thinking up a thousand backup plans to further increase the success of the future.

So numb was she that the Witch Princess never heard the heavy footsteps of metal feet marching on the dark wood. Never felt the cold gaze of Malekith the Witch-King. Only did Allisara feel the prickle of the coldest winds of Malekith's breath on her neck did she tense up in alarm. Her complexion paled from her already white skin realizing her mistake of not noticing her father to acknowledge his presence.

'Oh fuck me sideways.' Allisara thought morbidly.

"Allisara," Grated the voice of Malekith like sharpening steel, "I do believe that you standing here is in some form efficient. That or... you are distracted somehow."

When Malekith trailed off, Allisara had to bite off gulping in fear. She stretched out her magical senses, feeling the endless cold void of power that was Malekith and the incredible magical prowess of Morathi standing behind the Druchii king. There was no doubt a smug smile on her grandmother's face watching the scene unfold. Clenching her jaw from wavering, Allisara answered back in the most neutral tone she could make.

"I am fine." Allisara said, if only slightly sharply. "I am just... thinking carefully on the future ahead of me."

"Is that so?" Malekith commented condescendingly. "To me, it looks to be more than some thinking. I know you too well, Allisara. You rarely succumb to these trivial distractions."

'Not since your younger years.' An afterthought brushed through Malekith's mind.

Memories of a small Druchii child running around in the dark palace suddenly came to mind. A snarl rose from his throat as he remembered Allisara on the house always too fascinated in the arts of the sword and the teachings of magic. All offset by the fact she had so much energy within her to sit still in her studies; to rather take action than sit and wait. Despite raised to be sadistic and brutal as any other Druchii, she was a child nonetheless of childish glee, and such memories of those times brought a barely noticeable warmth that appealed to the remnants of Malekith that was once the honorable son of Aenarion. Malekith never realized just how raising Allisara brought that persona out again, if only in glimpses of pride in his daughter.

Allisara could not stop the flinch as she heard the click of Malekith's boots coming closer to her. She dared not turn around, too afraid of whatever fury her father was bearing down on her. Her hand twitched, instinctively wanting to protect her back that had history of harsh lashes that scarred her pale skin. In her weakness, Allisara shut her eyes in anxiety of the coming blow.

Such thoughts of physical punishment were for not when instead Allisara felt cold, metal fingers gently holding on her shoulder. The Witch Princess' eyes snapped open in shock at the gesture that oddly enough comforted her from her fears. She knew this on an instinctual level that this was a gesture of a parent to ease the feelings of his offspring. Mismatched purple and red eyes stared back at eyes visible through Malekith's face plate, but that usual cold gaze had softened the barest amounts. A rarity that Allisara had ever seen only several times in her youth, and it made her heart warmth with so renewed strength. Any amount of hate from Malekith that was quelled for his daughter was still a significant amount.

Dare she say it made her feel 'human' in some convoluted way of parental to offspring love.

"Do not feel shame on this." Malekith said, his grating voice of the cold struggling to sound smooth. "You are my daughter and a good general, but in human terms you are still in your younger years. It is a grand achievement in of itself that you stand as an equal among peers who have led armies for centuries. The vast knowledge and power I have granted as my daughter, Allisara, can only be tempered by experience. As I have learned myself."

"How can you say that, Father?" Allisara blurted, too late to catch her words. "You are so strong, and I don't believe that you could ever be weak."

Malekith made a sound that was a mix between a chuckle and a growl. "Those who believe they are born almighty are the arrogant fools that die the quickest. We are never born strong, Allisara. Even as we kin of Aenarion hold vast potential, true strength can only be brought out through growth and refined through life. I... am no exception to that rule as eons ago I was a little boy who couldn't hold a sword."

Morathi watched the exchange between her son and granddaughter with narrowed eyes with a hint of curiosity. Never did Morathi believe Malekith now would ever say these words that would paint him a weakling at a certain light. She can admit there was truth in those words, but she only ever expected to hear that type of wisdom from the days before the splitting of the Asur or from Aenarion himself.

'Allisara, you are bringing out something from Malekith.' Morathi thought. 'Something I never thought to see in so long, and I don't know how to feel about that.'

Many Druchii would see Malekith advising Allisara on this topic as a weakness on both of them, but as cruel as Morathi was she was not narrow-minded. She did expect a baby to be strong the moment it is born from a mother's womb. Morathi faintly remembered the little babe that used to be his son thousands of years ago to be so small and fragile. Yet, he had grown into a ferocious warrior of the likes that stand among the most powerful in the world. His name, once only spoken from Morathi's lips with motherly affection, now put the hearts in all manner of creature. And all that terror and power all originated from a small form that she once held in her arms. It is interesting how the world works.

"Not admitting your weaknesses (at least from yourself) will only stagnate your growth into the warrior and leader the Druchii will stand in awe of." Malekith assured Allisara, who was looking up at the Witch-King with an unsure expression. "Go on. Tell me what distracts you. There is no need to fear me on this."

"... The future." Allisara relented, her hidden thoughts coming out like a flood. "The future of our people. This task will change everything for us. The success of this mission can put us where the Druchii truly should be: at the top of the world. For too long, we've been shunned from our right of superiority by those fakers in Ulthuan. They have stolen what should belong to us, not them, and they have sent us into this cold hell to suffer!

"If we can't take back our birthright, then we will ascend higher than the Asur can ever imagine. That's what I see in this mission. What is an island of our homeland compared to whole worlds to ourselves. And I... am afraid that if I fail, then I fail the rise of the Druchii to greatness from this cold hell we've been exiled too. I want the Druchii, our people, to become greatest of all creation."

"So you feel doubt." Malekith stated. "That is one of most devastating that can happen to a leader Allisara. Doubt makes them slower and their actions less thought out. The only way to rid of it is to focus on the reward through this trial. To see the conclusion of your task to the very end."

Allisara casted her gaze downward, but her attention drifted from the real world and to her own inner thoughts. She pondered on her father's words, soon seeing the powerful wisdom in them. The goal at the end of this journey was to be the greatest reward not only for her or her father, but the Druchii as a whole. There was no hesitance to go forward for the ending goal so daunting and ambitious. A small thing as doubt was by no means significant to stop her.

"I see." Allisara muttered, raising her eyes back to the Witch King. "I can't fail. Failure... no, there will be no failure, only success. That I swear on the blood of Aenarion that runs through me."

"And my own." Quipped Morathi under her breath.

A horn sounded from the Black Ark to signal the last few moments before departure. That also meant Morathi's servants have installed the shrine upon the floating city for dimensional transportation, so she herself has to make haste for proper preparation. She quickly walked back down the dock, the butt end of her halberd/staff thudding the stone ground all the way.

Malekith and Allisara exchanged a look that spoke of a whole conversation between them, ending the moment the Witch Princess nodded her head. At first, Allisara went down the dock at a quick, professional pace only for her steps to falter in hesitance. The son of Aenarion narrowed his eyes, but he wasn't given the chance to speak. Allisara had turned back to him, her eyes going back and forth from him to down the dock to the Black Ark. Her decision was made in that instant as she disappeared in a black blur back at Malekith.

The Witch King felt weight pressing forward on his torso with a pair of limbs tightening around his sides and back. His first instinct was to cut down whatever ambushed him, but closer inspection of his senses told that the hold was not life-threatening. Only when he looked down to find the source did words fail to leave the lips of his mask. The source of the 'pressure' was his own daughter wrapping her arms around Malekith in what he vaguely recalled as a hug, and her head was nestled in his chest.

There was none of the sadism or the cruelty from the Witch Princess. All that Malekith could see from her eyes, leaking tears, was undivided affection that she has been holding back for so long. Never had Allisara been bold enough to show this kind of love to her father as intimate as a hug, but she needed to do this because there is a chance she may not see Malekith for a long time. For so long, Allisara wanted to hug her father to truly show him how much she appreciated being raised by him, and despite his exterior being colder than ice it was still the best thing Allisara could ask.

Malekith's head was drawing a blank. It was a very rare thing that a Druchii showed actual affection, but Malekith never did expect this from Allisara. By all rights, she should internally loathe him for both the power he held and the lashings on her back. Yet, he never took in the fact whenever he trained her because Malekith never saw the gleeful smile on Allisara's face, no matter how much he beat her to a pulp. Those times where Malekith and her trained together or study magic and war did they bond as father and daughter.

As the hug continued, he vaguely recalled a memory from his forgotten youth as a boy. He himself had given a hug when his father Aenarion returned. For being the greatest warrior in the world's history, that did not mean Aenarion was heartless to deny the affection of his family. His right hand moved on autopilot and rested behind Allisara's right shoulder, barely returning the gesture.

"I promise to make you proud, Dad." Allisara muttered loud enough for Malekith to hear.

Reluctantly, Allisara broke from the hug and sprinted down the dock to board the Black Ark. The entire time Malekith eyes never left the back of Allisara slowly becoming smaller as she boarded the ship. The human - no, his daughter that he raised from that small babe into a mighty warrior worthy of royalty. A dull pain thrummed in his chest at the thought that Allisara will be a world apart on a quest to bring glory to the Druchii greater than the Asur at their peak. Deep in his heart where locked was the persona that is the son of Aenarion, he didn't want his daughter to be so far away that she could be hurt when she will need him the most.

'You've already made me proud, Allisara.' Malekith thought.

(Back to the present.)

"Hnn..." An indignant whine muffled behind Allisara's lips and blushed cheeks.

She quickly shook herself of thoughts of the past and focused on the ever important present, and that is preparing a magic circle instructed from Morathi. According to her grandmother, the Winds of Magic in this new alternate world were more calmer. Therefore, normal magical casting takes an increase of effort than what would normally be used back home. However, that left more of a rule over the energies in the new world since there were no godly entities or rather just a lack of their presence to command the Winds of Magic. The lack of intense Winds of Magic negated any threat of Chaos.

Morathi came up with a ritual to put this lack of maintenance to their advantage. The main component was creating a vacuum to concentrate the Winds of Magic much like the Vortex in Ulthuan. The difference is that this drain is put under Allisara's own will, putting the bulk of the world's magic at her very fingertips. It could not be anyone else because Allisara's unique affiliation of Chaos magic, the most pure form to be exact. Other beings could not handle the strain of maintaining the Winds of Magic in their total diversity from Beast to Heaven without ripping themselves apart.

She had carved the copy of the pattern on her back that marked her as the "controller" of the Winds of Magic. The main circle itself was a pattern of daemon sigils and Druchii calligraphy drawn in her own blood upon the roof of her personal manor that was first built when they made ashore. Several stars were pointed out at the edges marked with crystal charged with a specific element of magic to properly siphon all Lores at once, and all of it concentrated to the center littered with daemonic sigils that on sight alone was enough for human to kill each other for heresy.

'Humans are so dumb.' Allisara thought, remembering multiple reports of humans purging their own people for heresy on asinine claims. The other races at home knew too well those mortals were their own worse enemy.

The final line was drawn and the last of the crystals, the Lore of Beasts, was placed down carefully. Now the final 'ingredient' was a pulse to magic in its purest form to jump start ritual. Back home, a ritual of this significance would have called for a sacrifice or some other deal with the gods, but it was much easier when there are no deities to interfere in the first place.

Allisara raised her left arm above the daemon circle. Her reptilian eye glowed a menacing crimson as she drew upon the Winds of Chaos, the rawest form of magic. None of her charge dared to get close to the Witch Princess' manor feeling the absolute wrongness that activated every carnal instinct within them to preserve their lives. The sky above the growing pseudo-settlement turned dark as black clouds crackling in all manner of magic were attracted to the ongoing ritual.

Words of forbidden knowledge came out in wraith-like whispers from Allisara's mouth, and the more she spoke the more the carving at her feet glowed in a mix of purple and red. The crystals at the edges sent up a stream of multiple colors collecting into a swirling cone reaching for the miniature storm above. Red specks of light and lightning traveled up and down her right arm to create a sphere of pure Chaos magic in her palm. Subtle mutations of scales and protrusions from her arms started to spread on the limb, looking more demonic by the second.

At the epicenter of the ritual where ground and sky were about to meet, the Marks of Khain and Khorne that were etched onto her skin and soul glowed in sinister light. She felt the stare of the gods bear down on her, and in the back of her head she could hear their whispers.

'Yes, my champion, brings us to the new fold so we may watch your conquest.'

'Connect the bridge and this world will be yours.'

'It shall be done!' Exclaimed Allisara internally, her eyes producing a flash of light.

With a primal roar, Allisara slammed down her left arm upon the circle and the red bolt split the sky in two. The Druchii braced themselves as all of the world's magic suffused and was unleashed simultaneously into a massive wave. Soon, the calm of the storm followed and at the center stood Allisara enraptured in ecstasy. A pure black shimmer surrounded her body until it faded away from visible sight. As she came down from her high, Allisara took the moment to feel the energy of the world's once slumbering magic. It felt like as though she were in a vast sea and a simple flick of her finger could redirect it however she wanted. However, at best these Winds of Magic were too calm to have the destructive potential Allisara desired in leveling a city down, but it was enough to return a the major player of magic back in her forces.

There was also the matter of the unique affect the dormant magic had on everyone. It first started with herself and Seras when they found themselves unable to be injured by a personal warding that protected and healed them. As more of these natural 'wards' starting turning up among her elite, Allisara had made a theory that the unique magic despite being dormant had the effect of bringing up the raw soul of a person into a tangible shield, and it also provided an increase in strength and speed.

Of course, manipulation of one's soul wasn't unheard of in terms of extracting or weaponizing them into magical war machines. Never was there a way that one's own soul can work for the individual's benefit. Such a boon can make the Druchii military the most dominant in the world without the need of armor.

She can see it now. A whole army of super-soldiers at her beck and call. Whole civilizations that have withstood for thousands of years brought to the heel of the Dark Elves. The Druchii people ascended back into their former glory before the split, and finally the absolute praise of her father for making it possible.

Oh yeah, tonight her and Seras were going to get rough in the sack! Maybe get Cissovi and the Witch Elves to join in.

Allisara shook her head. No, she can't be too hasty with these advancements. She needed to know first of all how it was possible to manifest the power of the soul back home. A month ago, Allisara had sent out Khainite spies to scour nearby settlements or cities of the world's natives. It came to a surprise really that most of the world was untamed wilderness rich in fauna for hunting, at least for her Cold One riders. If worse comes and they somehow get captured, Allisara had a kill switch to remotely burn their bodies to ash to remove any evidence of themselves.

Finally, there was one problem that was proving difficult in expanding a proper foothold in the settlement. There were these hordes of what seemed to be fauna mutated somehow to into monstrous versions of pitch black skin, bone plates, and red eyes full of hate. Since arriving and docking the Black Ark, these creatures have been relentless in trying to kill them off, and it was only Allisara's sorcerers setting down a magical barrier that they haven't instantly failed. That, and they used a hundred of their slaves as bait to draw them away. Hopefully when her spies return they can report the knowledge have of these creatures.

Allisara looked over at the setting sun as it casted a golden glow over the endless green landscape that she was greeted. It was honestly the first time she had actually seen a forest in real life, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn't baffled. The warm climate was absolutely bliss to her, like the gentle kiss of a flame on her pale skin that for too long endured the cold. Even her own forces had raised morale because of the change of weather.

The Witch Princess found herself staring at the sun shining in the sky lacking any sort of clouds to hide it away while its light shimmered over green ground and blue water. For some odd reason, it brought a distinct nostalgia Allisara couldn't place. It felt like the rise of joy one would feel returning home, but in this world it was more profound. That didn't make sense; her home was in Naggarond and this was an entirely different dimension. Perhaps it was the warm weather that called to the long dormant side of her that was the elf from Ulthuan and it was soothing her mood. Her doubt did not leave though.

Just what was it with this place? Why did she feel so at natural here in this alien world? It was like a jumble of whispers in the back that felt both foreign and familiar. She forced them all to a dark corner of her mind to silence them.

Dusk will follow night soon. Perhaps it is time that she retired for the night now that the ritual is over. A lecherous smile crossed her face as an idea came to mind. Now that she had direct control of the Winds of Magic, she can apply them to her spell casters to bring them back to the prime of their abilities. She was going to have them all gather in her manor, and what better way than a whole night of passion to bring them all together?

Sometimes she loved her life, and never desired to trade for it. Besides, what other life could she ever want to live in?

(Meanwhile at Beacon...)

"Rylee Megan, Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladona, and Yang Xiao Long," A man on a raised platform announced, wearing a green suit with a heat of white hair. He was holding a cup of coffee in his right hand and in his left held onto an intricately decorated cane. "You have retrieved the yellow horse pieces. Thus, you shall be christened Team RWBY, led by Yang Xiao Long."

The whole theater full of students went into applause at the newly minted Team RWBY that shall be starting their first year at Beacon Academy to become Huntresses. It was a team consisting of four young women that had done an outstanding performance in initiation taking down a giant Nevermore. The first woman was Rylee, a native from the deserts of Vacuo who wore brown cargo pants, tanned boots, and a belt holding a long sword, twin pistols, and pouches for ammo. On her back was a rifle that mecha-shifted into a lance when necessary. She was fairly tall at 5'6" with tanned skin that almost made her chocolate brown dotted with freckles, auburn hair tied in a ponytail, and violet eyes.

The second girl was Weiss Schnee, the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company from Atlas. She was a girl standing at 5'1" with the trademark looks of the Schnee family with her white hair and blue eyes. She wore a white skirt where at her waist rested her rapier. A scar bore down her left eye.

The third girl had amber eyes and long black hair sweeping down her back. She wore a form-fitting white corset and black garments that gave her an air of stealth. On her head was a bow that slightly twitched occasionally.

The final member was a buxom standing the tallest at 5'8" with sweeping yellow hair reaching just passed her shoulders. She wore the most battle-ready outfit of the group, starting with an armored mesh that covered her torso under a jacket with twin tails. There were plates of armor fitted on her kneecaps, elbows, and shoulders to provide the most protection to her vital weak points while also giving her the best movement. Her eyes were a startling lavender that occasionally shifted red, but her beauty was marred by a criss-cross of deep scars on the left side of her piece between her jaw and eye.

Unlike her teammates that were soaking up the praise, Yang was stuck in her own world. When she heard the name of their team, it brought up memories that were too painful. The last time she heard that name was so long ago when that thing took her baby sister away and killed her mother. Just the thought alone made her eyes bleed red and her reach a hand up to the scars that monster left on her that night.

Ever since that day, Yang's family had been torn apart. Her father, Taiyang, had been prone to drinking in his despair from the death of his second wife with only the bare hope that Ruby was alive when she was taken. Yang never slept peacefully in her house without feeling some sort of heavy despair that the metal man left. At some point, Yang had resolved to find her mother's killer, and ever since then had trained endlessly and pushed herself to the utter limit. She never bothered with any pleasantries, only focusing on this single desire to get revenge for what that monster had done to her family. Qrow, Yang's uncle, had tried keeping the peace in the family, but he was trying to keep himself from breaking apart.

She closed her eyes to try and calm herself so as to stop herself from snapping in public, but every time she closed her eyes Yang would see that monster's face with those cold soulless eyes bearing down on her as if she were an insect. She remembered the hellish pain racking her face from when the monster kicked her. Every time Yang would see the body of Summer lying in a pool of blood while Ruby, her own sister, was crying in that monster's arms. And every time she was useless to stop him from walking away, the baby's cries growing ever so distant.

When Yang reopened her eyes back to the real world, they were a permanent red. Wherever her gaze went, it would make the person in her sights quiver in fear. Her fists tightened at her sides, threatening to make her palms bleed.

'One day, I will find you.' Yang promised. 'And when I do, I am going to tear you apart, and I will take back my sister.'

So finally I have posted another lovely chapter. Don't got much to say really. Yang will not meet Allisara anytime soon, but they will be terrorizing the kingdoms. Remember, blood for the Blood God. Skulls for the Skull Throne.

Up next is Chapter 6.

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