The Winterling lair

The blow hit Draven like a brick wall, knocking him through his chair with a loud crash as the wood of the chair's build splintered under him, broken pieces and scattered chips of the redish wood grinding into saw dust beneath him as he crumpled limply to the floor.

The torrent of images died almost instantly as if he'd been watching an old movie and someone had cut the film, and the darkness returned. But slowly, stubbornly, one final clip of vision clung to him, burning behind his eyes as the deathly chill that had consumed him gradually began to fade.

In the vision, he saw... the statue of a woman, a statue made entirely of an ice like crystal. She was beautiful, of that he felt distinctly certain though her face was turned away, veiled by her long hair. As he watched... cracks and fissures split like spiderwebs all over the crystal's glittering surface, shattering in a rain of shards and powder... and when everything cleared, a woman lay unconsious among the remains. She shivered, breathing irregularely as if she had never breathed before. Her eyes opened, a single word, slipping past her lips in the form of a hiss, "Hate." In one unconciously fluid movement, she rose to her feet, shedding bits of crystal as she did so, but Draven could see now that she was not human, or at least not a living one. Slowly she rose her hands to eye level, staring in what Draven assumed must have been horror-- her hair remained wildly flowing into her face, making it difficult to make out her features-- because her hands, her clothes, every detail that made her real, was transparent. She was a spirit, a ghost.

With a final shutter, the vision released him and warmth returned to his veins, as well as his control and conciousness.
 
Liz looked on with worry through Draven's seeing. She was curious about what he saw, but dared not ask, even when he returned to what seemed to be his normal disposition.
 
Serpentes watched calmly from his chair, waiting for Draven to catch his breath and regain a little composure before offering a hand to help him off the floor. He did not, however, share Liz's patience or restraint as far as his curiousity went. "What did you see?" He asked almost as soon as Draven was on his feet.
 
Draven shook his head, leaning heavily against the wall as he waited for his strengh to return. "Nothing worth mentioning." He rasped, drawing in a ragged breath. His eyes were back to normal now, empty and lightless as ever, the eyes of a man whoed been shattered and then reforged into something that could never be broken, could never be touched by anything, again. Starving werewolves couldn't have dragged an answer from him now.
 
"Stll alive, brother?" Ravus sneered coldly, clapping a hand to Draven's shoulder in mock affection. "The boogie man didn't get you this time?"
 
Tristan apparated just in front of the door, strolling in. "You summoned me, Serpentes?" he inquired, his expression reflecting irritation. His eyes narrowed in surprise as he spotted the Malfoy girl; wasn't she still supposed to be at school?
 
Ravus hissed, the pupils of his eyes narrowing to catlike slits. His mood had not allowed him to fully return to the more humanistic side of his nature since the fight and his mind still reeled for blood. He took a step toward Tristan, moving with the deadly grace of a preditory animal.
 
"Leave him, Ravus." Serpentes ordered sharply, staring the younger man down with a piercing glance. "Your feud with him is over." For now at least, he added to himself.
 
Tristan considered saying a few choice words to Ravus, but decided against it. "What did you call me here for?"
 
"This girl," Serpentes replied, nodding in Liz's direction, "Wishes to become a death eater. She requests an audience with Valcan, something I'm sure you can arrange, if I'm not mistaken."
 
Tristan turned to Elizabeth. "Are you serious? Why in the world?" he inquired coldly, genuinely interested.
 
"Probably thinks being your kind of death eater is the new Girlscouts," Ravus muttered with a smirk as he shoved past Tristan on his way out the door, "You all act enough like little girls, it wouldn't surprise me much."
 
Tristan swore under his breath, and snapped, "Says the man who breaks down during the middle of a fight, for Merlin's sake. Now if that doesn't make you a woman, I don't know what else does."
 
Ravus only smirked. "And what does that make you, considering that you still couldn't beat me? I was hardly even in this world all during that fight and you still couldn't even bruise me."

Satisfied, he turned back toward the door.
 
Tristan rolled his eyes, deciding to be the more mature one. He turned to the rest of them, his expression still inquisitive.
 
"Where are you going?" Draven inquired of Ravus, his voice still hoarse from recovering. His eyes were dark and cold as ice, not like the reflection of the Netherworld, but unnatural all the same.
 
Tristan raised his eyebrow. He didn't know that Draven was into hunting, and it quite took him by surprise. "Make sure you don't drop the kill on anyones doorstep, okay? At least mine."
 
"You?" Serpentes snorted, glancing up at Draven in surprise.

As far as he knew Draven had taken up intrest in hunting only after his fiance's death, convinced that she had been murdered. When he had that led him nowhere, however, he had eventually accepted that her life and the unborn child's had been taken by her own hand.

As far as Serpentes knew, the man hadn't taken up hunting again since then unless he was directly ordered to.
 
Draven only nodded, his eyes turning hard as steel. He'd lived his entire life surviving by his own ideas, his own resources, and look where it had gotten him. It was time to give in, to lose himself in what he had become, as Ravus had so long ago. It was the only way to survive with an ounce of sanity anymore.
 
Tristan shrugged it off, turning back to Serpentes. "What do you expect me to do? Bring her there?"
 
"If it is still what she wants," Serpentes sighed, returning his attention to Tristan,"then of course."

Turning back to Draven, he said quickly, "You lost the child I assume. I do not smell her here."
 
Tristan raised his eyebrow, turning to Liz.

He was curious about the child that Serpentes was talking about, but didn't say anything.
 
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