"N-no, stop," Taran said, his voice humid and soft. The strange man in the white uniform was holding him tightly from behind. But struggle as he might, the larger man's grip was
simply too strong for the effeminate boy.

Yamamoto's grin was wide, stretching almost from ear to ear. "No escape now otoko no ko-chan. Now, I will make you feel like a woman."

"N-Nooooo~♥"

_{@Ellion, the pure must be corrupted, at the hands of Harvard graduates if need be. Such is the way of the world.}

"A-ahn, ahn, ahn~♥" Taran's moans echoed throughout the empty hallways of the castle. Accompanying them were sounds of flesh slapping flesh.

"Now," Yamamoto whispered, his lips touching Taran's ear. "What do you say when you feel good?"

"Kimochiiiii~♥" Taran answered dutifully.
[censored]

And so Elina went to the desert. The sun hung high during the day, scorching all who worked beneath it's hateful gaze, at night its retreat left the blasted landscape seemingly devoid of warmth of any kind. Often she gazed at the moon and wondered what might have been, but those days were long behind her.

As promised by the demon/Lorelai she grew strong there. The grit and heat of the burning sands seemed to seep into her very essence, toughening the once delicate witch. It was a hard life, devoid of all but scant few joys, and filled with many more cruelties. Her body grew strong with each passing day, and her magic swelled with each kill.

She learned the quiet rage of the last arrow. That desperate tension sustained the woman during the decades spent in search of the strength she'd require to stand against that black power.

One day, when the sun was at its zenith, Elina's back straightened. She looked west, back towards the lands she'd once called home. In her bones she knew that it was time, dropping the twisted body of her latest sacrifice she began to walk.

Could she stand against that foul darkness? Could anyone? Did she even deserve to win after becoming what she was? Or would she simply take its place? Questions filled the woman's mind, but did not sway her course. Soon the two black shadows would cross blades again, underneath a broken sky. One old nightmare would rise against the challenge of another, and the victor would live on in the minds of men, the very reason they feared the dark.

Elina's feet brought her to the ruins of the once great Castle Bloodrose. Her heart sank as she beheld the home of the witches who'd so kindly taken her in when she most needed it. The once mighty walls bore scorch marks and were riddled with collapsed portions. She carefully navigated the delapitated bridge to the iron gates, which were twisted on the ground.

She passed through the dusty hallways of the castle, their resplendant glory had been replace with cobwebs and rubble. Elina peeked into what should have been the bedrooms of witches happily working to better understand their power, and instead saw nothing but the ruined trappings of once well loved home.

Finally she arrived at the lounge near the library, the room where it had all begun all those years ago. There she saw the outline of Lorelai, facing the rune inscribed wall.

"Elina." Lorelai turned to face her, her face still youthful in spite of the ravages of time. Her eyes told a story of grief that Elina could only begin to comprehend. "You've returned."

"What happened!?" Thoughts of their conflict fled her mind. She needed to know. "Where has everyone gone?"

"The hunters attacked a few years after you left Elina." Lorelai stepped towards her. "We repelled them, but they spread the word of the castle, and we couldn't stand against the tide of hunters that came next."

"Laina fell first, she couldn't manage the hatred required to endure the hell of war. Next went Genoveve, who's heart didn't survive the death of her beloved. Alexina eventually fell ensuring the escape of several of the less experienced witches. Sheevi, who'd become rather enamored of the Queen of the forests fell next." Lorelai continued to approach. "Taran was cut down from the battlements where he'd been hurling his flaming wrath by a well timed barrage of arrows. Medusa fell when the makeshift explosive the hunters bore brought down her garden."

Lorelai's eyes filled with tears. "And my Vespa, my darling Vespa refused to run. Brave to the end she died in my arms after succumbing to wounds that should have killed her hours earlier."

"Her last words were an apology for leaving me alone in this cold world, and to tell me how much she had loved me." Lorelai extended an accusing finger towards Elina. "And where were you!?"

Elina faltered. "Y-you said to go to the des-"

"You never thought to refuse me!?" Lorelai drew closer. "Your life is nothing but accepting what others have forced upon you! Do you think you're strong now!? You're no different from the woman you were."

"You can be no stronger of hand than you are of heart Elina." Lorelai began to fade. "This black mantle is yours to wear now, but not because you earned it. Rather because you're too weak to refuse it."

Elina felt a cold weight settle about her shoulders. Gone were the dreams of happy days, whispered loves, and the embrace of sleep. Greatness only knocks once, and she'd missed it.

She remains to this day as a shadow of a once hopeful girl, consigned instead to a lonely existence as that twinge at the back of the spine when you realize that you're alone in the dark. Nothing left to look forward to but the moment she'll be released from the black iron chains of this concrete dream called life.