The Ice Eyed Mage

Chapter 2

The figure stood hunched over in pain. The side of their gray hooded cloak was almost black with blood. Without a word, the mage stood aside and motioned for the person to enter. He looked through the surrounding trees trying to find the attacker but seeing no one. With a final sweep of his gaze he closed and bolted the door, using a protection spell on the door keeping anything away.

Finally, he looked at his patient who had taken a seat on the wooden chair which most of his patients sat to be examined. They still hadn't removed their hood nor had they made a sound. Fearing that the person in his chair could hurt him he summoned a simple fire spell to his fingertips as a sign of intimidation.

"Have you come here to harm me or the people of this town?" He demanded, the fire glowing brighter at his words.

"No, I have not come here to hurt anyone. The opposite, in fact, I've come here to save hundreds of lives if only they would let me." That voice was definitely female but the accent gave their identity away.

"Why have you come here, Fury?" He snarled. He would know that accent anywhere, all Furies had it.

"I have come in search of the ice-eye. I do not wish to harm anyone, I swear." Her voice wavered either in sadness, fear, or pain.

"Ice eye?" He asked, lowering his spell.

"Please, if you do not heal me hundreds more will die." She begged weakly, her body shuddering in pain. Crowley thought for a moment before cursing and going to her side.

"I'll heal you but you must tell me everything in exchange." He demanded while almost ripping her cloak off. She gasped slightly at the sudden chill on her skin but didn't resist. With the blood-soaked cloak off of the woman, he could finally get a good look at her.

She was indeed a Fury for her skin was an iridescent scarlet red which shimmered with bits of hot pink, as if her skin was covered in pink glitter. Deep wine red markings striped at her cheeks and eyelids like eyeliner. Her hair was a glossy fuchsia color, not quite purple but not quite pink. She wore the long strands in a multitude of braids. Those made from her bangs and side bits hung loosely while the rest was a single thick braid held high on her head using a golden ring. Other golden hair rings decorated the beautiful mass.

Her golden eyes stared up at him behind lush fuchsia eyelashes. Her large bat-like wings hung limply on the sides of the chair. Their 'fingers' were the same scarlet red as her skin but the webbing was a deep magenta and was also semi-transparent, showing off just how thin their webbing was. As a female, she would not have the horns that male Furies wore with pride instead females had longer claws and a talent for magic.

She wore very little which wasn't surprising given that the Furies lived in the sweltering desert. A bra-like top made from peacock blue fabric was intricately decorated with golden filigree. A matching skirt hung low on her hips showing off her thin, lithe frame. One would call her a belly-dancer in the human kingdom but few knew that the dance originated in Azeroth. Deep crimson tattoos decorated her belly and even her sandaled feet. The outfit also showed off her deep wound which was bleeding extensively.

Like the good healer he was, he began barking orders at her to lie down so he could work. He worked for almost an hour healing the deep wound most, likely caused by the soldiers nearby. Thinking of them made him wonder if he should call them or if he should kill her himself. He decided he would hear her out and then decide after.

He offered her a bowl of his stew and she took it graciously. She ate slowly although mainly due to her dislike for it. He had to stifle a laugh at the grimace she made at the first bite. Even though her dislike for the stew was evident she did not complain and even finished and asked for another. He smiled and refilled the bowl and once again she ate slowly.

"I know I'm not the best cook, my dear, you can say so as much if you want." He snickered quietly.

"Forgive me for saying so, but yes it could benefit from a little more seasoning. Some more salt and pepper, maybe a few other seasonings would be beneficial." She was very soft-spoken and blushed at her own words.

"You speak like a highborn." He commented which caused her to flinch. She hesitated before speaking again.

"That is because I am highborn. Allow me to formally introduce myself, I am Nysia Carwynn, second princess of Azeroth." She said quietly. Crowley's mouth dropped open. Not only was a Fury sitting in his home but the princess of the Furies.

"Why in the world are you here in the homeland of your enemies? Are you insane if you are killed here the war will continue?" He started listing all the possibilities of how her presence would extend the, already long, war.

"Will you listen to my story of why I am here?" She interrupted, ending his banter. He turned to her and nodded. "Then please sit, it's a long one."