Tribe after tribe comes.

They travel to where we are, coming one by one. I watch them – small and large, families and scattered individuals.

As if there was no hope left. No fight. No resistance.

The Onism had not even lifted a finger, yet I could see the fear in their eyes.

I see the flash of the Wakin. The tribe that had fallen to their knees. A line of males. The great leader pushing me away, telling Khalid I was not needed. I see those dark eyes turn to his men. I see the blood of the enemy fall without mercy upon the ground, no remorse to those who thought they would be offered a second chance.

I look at the tribe now. How easily they thought of survival. Enough to cast aside their own traditions and customs. Enough for the males to clothe themselves and blend in as if they had never been something else. Never were they foreign or a part of another world.

They were Onism.

The numbers grow. I see what looks to be miles of flames at my feet. The fires are scattered as they sat, ate, and, conversed. As the night came but my darkness had stayed ever since that first conquering.

My personal guard who had pledged themselves to me were wary at every turn. The fixation of who I was increased more and more, with every eye that was added to stare.

I look up at the sky, the sun fighting with the ground, wanting to bury itself in the relief of hiding away. Chaos showed from the battle that unfolded as streaks of purple and gold shot from the efforts.

"Walk, Mikabellum. Show them what they worship when they ride into battle tomorrow."

His voice whispers against my ear, there and then gone as he retreats away from me. I stare at the fading image. Roark only came to me in the night now to trap me in his arms and cage me to his side.

He would never be there in the mornings when I woke.

His words now haunt me as I step forward.

Soon.

Soon we would be back there.

Soon we would be back on that field of red. The screams echo in my nightmares. I remembered the destruction of that day when they clothed me in the color of ruin and set me off to ride with the bringer of death himself.

I lift my head, knowing my gaze was not one that should be bowed.

They are the ones who fall at my feet. As I slowly weave my way through the camp, going down each path and ignoring their eyes- I watch the movement of their bodies descend. The males would make that same motion tomorrow. Some would be able to rise. Others would never come back.

I feel the lightness of the cloth skimming against me. The white material did not seem so pure in my eyes now. I wondered who it was that had claimed it to symbolize something untainted. I wonder this, as I hear them whisper my name.

The wind catches my hair, the length of it set free with no restrictions.

Mikabellum. Mikabellum. Mikabellum.

My thoughts felt so scattered. My reasoning felt gone. I had nothing to hold onto. Nothing in this world worth living for except that name.

Bless us. Bless us. Bless us.

They loved me. I could see it in their eyes. They loved something that looked pure but had the stains of darkness hidden in its soul. I should have known that is what these people would adore. That's what these tribes would give up their traditions for. The great leader is the same. He and I are both sinister in our own ways.

But rather than hide it as I do, he shows it openly to the world.

Some days I think they forget that.

Some days even I did not remember that he may call me lioness, but I was not the true predator.

I see him in the distance, watching. He was always watching me now. Never too far away.

I lift my head, defying his stare. He was just a male. Just a mortal male who had claimed me in front of them when he could never hold down a divine spirit in the first place.

If his face could be seen, I think he would have been smiling. Either that or the great leader would have been glaring down, watching those flames that surround come to full circle as they burn and consume me.

*   *   *

I feel him come into the tent. For some reason, I was always aware of his presence.

I am sitting up, waiting for him.

The night was not meant for resting, the day before a battle.

I look up and see that he is still at the entrance. He stands there, the stars painting a soothing image behind him as the half moon creates a shadow to his frame.

We stare at one another in silence. I was waiting for him to start the process. To pull those robes of ruin and beauty out from the trunk I knew they hid in. He was already late. The night had already started, yet still, he stood.

I was in no hurry though. A sigh escapes me, one that I know he can hear. The weight of what will happen tomorrow hits me again and again.

Battle, battle, battle.

We ride into battle.

The scenes flash chaotically into my mind. One moment peace, the next a ring of violence.

After several long minutes, he steps in, pulling the cover to the tent down to hide the night, the stars, the moon. It was just the two of us now.

I did not even know who we were going to battle. I only remember the feel of his gloved hand gripping mine tightly as he guided it to the place that he wanted, on the map that was before us. Not the choosing of the goddess, but the one that fit into his plan.

"Strip."

I stand wordlessly. His back is to me, the trunk already opened as he stares down into it.

The white dress that Soleia had adorned me in falls to my feet. The image was shattered- the pureness was gone.

"Close your eyes."

I was already going to. I didn't want to see the red against my skin. The robes bring back memory after memory as the image of more red dripping and staining against the fabric, washes into my mind.

His hand takes my hair, collecting and gathering it to the side. I feel the strands hang loosely in the front, covering my breasts. But then, a new sensation comes to me.

The sensation of skin against skin.

"Do not open them," he hisses. The shape of his lips brush against the shell of my ear and that texture- the feeling- causes an involuntary shiver to sharply run up my spine.

"Roark."

A breathless gasp leaves me as teeth bite onto my shoulder.

"Don't," he warns when he sees the flutter of my eyelids. I feel the cold steel of a blade press against my abdomen, but instead of fear, a different sensation runs through me.

His hand that is holding the knife pushes back, causing me to stumble as I collide with his chest. I feel clothing still there, and a part of me silently wonders what he is doing. How much he is revealing that I am unaware of.

My hair that he had parted just seconds ago, is gripped again. But tighter, more fierce. He holds the strands together, tugging on them to cause my neck to fall and expose the skin of my throat. He sees it and in that opportunity given, I feel the breath against me and the open mouthed kiss that is placed there.

"Tell me something." His voice catches my attention. There is something different about it. I want to open my eyes, but the blade is still pressed against me- a reminder to his promise.

"My lioness...tell me what you think when you see me." There is raw pain in his words. I can't help but think how beautiful it sounds. That for the first time, I was hearing the great leader's voice.

"Destruction," I whisper.

I feel the breath of his laughter against my skin as he kisses my shoulder.

"Ruin."

His tongue traces my ear, curving with it. My back arches and a wild sound leaves me.

"When you first saw me?"

I shake my head, but he only tugs my hair, his silent command for me to voice the truth to him.

"A black fire. Something that would consume everything."

"Did I captivate you?" The hand that is holding the knife goes up, the cold steel gently flicking the peak to my breast.

"Yes." I can't lie to him. I can't lie to him when the image of the dark figure astride his horse, the flames set in the background- come so vividly to my mind. When I wondered who would win in a fight – the sky or the great leader? To this day, I still did not know the answer.

"When I saw you Mikabellum..." I wait in anticipation for his next words, not even realizing I was pushing myself against him harder, as if the action would somehow squeeze whatever truth I could from this male that alluded me.

"I saw destruction. I saw ruin. I saw fire also, but not black. Red," he breathes the word into my skin and I feel the fabric that matches his thoughts finally placed on my frame. But the flesh of his hands, and the exposed fingers he lets me sense linger as he speaks, "red flames. They would consume...yes...but not everything. I didn't think everything. Just me. I knew they would consume me."

His mouth skims the back of my neck, a lingering kiss placed there.

"You consume me," he whispers against the darkness of my sight.

The moment is broken. Something snapped and I both feel and sense him retreat. His hand drops my hair. His grip around me tightens, before releasing. And the fabric that I had felt just seconds ago, is fully placed to cover me.

Nothing else is said.

But I think about those words. I think about the voice he had revealed to me. That had not been the voice of the great leader.

Maybe not even the voice of Roark.

It was the voice of a boy. Just a male. A male who seemed to be breaking at my feet.

I wanted to turn around and match the sound to the image, but the ritual had already started, and the crimson continued to drown me.

He said I consumed him, but he did not know the truth could be switched also.

I wondered if he saw as I did- while he placed the color on me, layer after layer, and consumed me in it.

*   *   *

The fabric is heavy. I had forgotten the weight that was felt when I carried it.

Opening the tent, I see the sun.

It could have been a mirror of myself. We both were children who were burning.

The females had already wished their males luck. The males were already ready for battle.

The night was not spent sleeping the day before battle.

I see the shadow of the Great Leader behind me. His hands do not dare touch me. He had already shown the world that I was something he wanted to possess- but that ended when robes such as these were worn.

The headpiece that matched the rays to the sun, rise with my gaze as I take in the sea of those who watch me. The red veil obscures my vision, painting us all in violence. I can still feel the blood that Roark had placed over my eyes, drying. But there were other invisible claims he had made.

I know this as the purple spots on my neck and shoulder hide away from sight.

Nothing unholy should be seen on the goddess that stood before them.

"Speak to them."

I look up to the great leader. His eyes are a challenge. The dark fire that I had told him of is visible to me.

"And tell them what?" I ask. There was nothing I wanted to say to them. It was his job to lead his people. His job to ride into battle.

Wasn't the blessing of my presence enough?

"Tell them you want the world. Tell them you want the world at your feet, Mikabellum. Tell them to give it to you. Ask it. And you shall receive."

I suddenly have an understanding for why the Onism tribe would cover their faces. At the great leader's words, my lips curl in disgust. It is hidden from his view. All he is able to witness is a shadow of red standing before him.

I want to shake my head. Maybe laugh. But I hold back. I had never wanted those things, and certainly Mikabellum would never ask for that.

Those were Roark's words. Those were the desires of the great conqueror, someone who had the dream of taking everything and making it his.

Not mine. Not me.

I step forward, and they are at attention. Their eyes are all on me.

They should be. They should be looking to me. I was their goddess. I was something divine. Red may not have been pure, but that did not mean I was any less holy.

I spread my arms out, mimicking the sun that I had seen only seconds ago. I can feel the anticipation both in front and behind me. After these words, we were riding into battle. After these words, there would be last breaths taken, families divided, and males who would stare at nothing but darkness.

"The sun is here." Their eyes do not go to the fixture in the sky. They know which sun I am talking about. They know which of the two shined with the most brilliance at this moment.

"The battle is upon us. Cast aside your fear. No matter what may happen, what doubt you may have, I am here. I am with you. You will not lose when I am by your side."

Their roar is a gradual one. An upheaval of the soul that festers within each and every body that is able to hear my cries, "Never forget me! Never cast me off! Never abandon me! Follow me! Love me!" I am shouting, the mass before me is shouting back. We are echoing each other but their cries are louder. Their answer is heard.

"No matter what may happen I will be with you and you will be with me!"

The deafening volume crashes against me. The split second of silence that was allowed for my words is broken in their need to channel whatever power I have given them.

Roark grabs my wrists, pulling me back until I am pressed to him. I feel his own battle cry as the vibrations of his voice cascade into me. His words in my ear as he speaks, "I always underestimate you, Mikabellum."

There is a whirlwind of movement around us. It is the same as the last time. I am seated on a horse with the great leader. I hear the thundering of hooves, and no matter how hard I try to repress it, the image of papa will always come to my mind from the noise.

I see the coming side of who we face.

Red reflects back at me with the sight of crimson banners outlined in gold- the image of an elephant painted upon them. 

There is a click of realization in me at who this is. Who we are fighting with.

They are larger than the Wakin tribe. Much, much, larger. The gathering of all the nomid tribes in these previous weeks suddently makes sense. 

My scattered thoughts take me a moment to even register, that maybe, this was not a tribe at all.

Until both sides collide.

I try to desperately stay upon the horse as Roark makes each movement. I try to hold on as tight as I can. I try to close my eyes, but the darkness scares me more than the red does.

I hear them cry for me as they did last time. Bless us. Save us.

My only solace is in knowing that battle did not last. One side eventually won.

"Hirog!" Roark's shout startles me. I look around wildly, alarm running through me. Was Hirog injured? Was there something wrong?

But the male Roark had cried out to did not look harmed. Instead, he only rode away from us.

I heard him shouting in the midst of the battle though. Words I could not understand. A sentence that did not make sense.

"Mikabellum is injured! They injured Mikabellum! Fight! Mikabellum is injured! They injured Mikabellum!"

I look down in confusion. I did see red. But not the kind he should be shouting about. Not the kind that would cause this alarm.

"Roark-,"

The quick jerk upon the reigns startles me, and I realize that we are no longer riding into battle.

We were riding away.

"Roark, I'm not injur-,"

His hand comes up to stop my words. I'm pushed back, pressed against his chest. The Onism cry in outrage at Hirog's words. I hear their chant changing.

It was no longer my cry to bless them. No longer my cry to save them.

Save Mikabellum.

Bless Mikabellum.

The tables had been turned, but I still could not understand in what way.

Nash is next to us. I see him riding alongside the leader as he breaks away from the battle. I cannot say a word, and there is no one to listen to me.

I only watch as the chaos continues on, the lie spreading throughout, and the males of the Onism crying their pain to any who can hear.

The trip is quick, and I see the tents in the distance. I want to struggle against Roark again, to try to make him realize the mistake. But they continue to press forward.

Some relief comes to me that we are gone. Maybe this was a blessing- that we were no longer in that hell. No longer could I hear the sound of pain or crying. See the red of death. I had abandoned them willingly.

"Guard it," Roark's whisper is not missed to me as we approach his tent.

Nash nods and turns to the anxious females who are watching, "Mikabellum has been injured. The Great Leader will see to her personally."

They begin to cry in despair, but before any word of truth can be said, I feel Roark's hands on me, ripping me from the steed and running with me into the tent.

His actions showed all the franticness of time that was running out. When it is just the two of us alone his hand finally comes off, and I am able to take in air.

"Roark, I'm not injured, what-,"

"I know."

I feel the fabric of the red slide off me.

But I wish it could be put back on. I wish, more than anything, I could have the veil to cover my eyes from what I see.

Agony ripples into the black of his gaze as he looks down and takes me in.

"Forgive me," he whispers, "forgive me, Mikabellum."

I see the motion of his hand. I see the determination yet pain that is set in his eyes.

And fear that I have not felt since that night- that first night – comes to me.

A cloth is pressed to my mouth. I jerk back a muffled cry coming over me. My eyes go to the entrance- the same one that Nash guarded now.

Panic comes to me as a numbness spreads along my body. 

"What is this," my tongue feels heavy. My words are slurred. I drop, and he catches my body before it fully collides with the floor.

I can no longer feel my arms. My legs.

"It is better this way," he whispers, "a knife is painful. I do not think I could...it's better this way. It's peaceful. Like sleeping."

He cradles me in his arms. I feel my eyes widening. It is the only thing I can move now. The only thing left in me that can show him my emotions. Our eyes stare into one another, the single connection between the two of us. In these last few seconds of betrayal, he had truly turned me into an Onism.

The truth comes to me. Not all of it. I always knew that I was a piece to a game, a small thing in comparison to something larger that was at hand. But the truth of what I was comes to me.

I had always been nothing but a tool, but somehow in the time that I had been close to him, that fact had been forgotten.

I use my eyes now, to let him see the emotions I carry. I can feel the dead weight I am becoming. I can see the agony he carried in his gaze as he waits and holds me.

But I wanted him to see. I wanted him to look into my eyes and see.

To see the hate.

I hated him.

He knows. He can read it. I know he understands as he takes me in.

Slowly, his hand becomes free, and I watch in disbelief as he takes the covering that is to his face and unravels the cloth.

Black fire. I knew you would consume me, I whisper in my mind, Destruction. Ruin. I had said it so well. He had said it also. The day in the hot springs, his own foreshadowing that I had not been aware of, these hands would be your undoing.

Not just his hands though. I look into the eyes and am able to connect an image to it now. Somehow, with his voice, the build of his body, and the way he carried himself- I always knew that if I were to ever see him it would leave me in awe.

His hair shocks me. I had pictured it to be black like the night. Something to match his eyes. But it's not. It reminds me of my mountains. My home.

The dark brown color is what finally triggers the tears in me, because it's the last thing I want to see before I am gone.

His lips.

Ones I have felt but never taken in.

He moves to me, and with anger and expectancy, I feel him press those lips to my own. I cannot move against him. I cannot move to match him. My body is numb, and rage consumes me.

"You have served your purpose now, Catina. My lioness," I feel a drop of his sorrow fall onto my face. He wipes it away with his thumb, but still, they silently fall, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He pulls me into him, the sickening image of my arms hanging uselessly there as I am able to feel the softness of his hair against my throat. 

"I'm sorry. My lioness. My love. Forgive me."

I want to spit in his face.

He had called me the wrong name. I didn't understand who Catina was, or what that person meant to him.

I wanted to scream my anger at him.

He was asking for my forgiveness, but I had already told him only once. Only once would I give him such a thing. He could not get it again. Not again and again.

He had sinned against me, and there was no saving his soul a second time.

I could feel the heaviness now come to my eyes. My last connection to him. The last thing I had, to tell him how much I hated him.

I feel my own tears fall. The numbness surrounding my body prevented me from knowing what it felt like when someone had taken your heart in their hands and crushed it.

He whispered his apologies, but he was not sorry.

Not really.

He was just a male who desired power and had lost something along the way when acquiring it. A treasure he did not want to give up.

I hate you, I want to say this to him, but he can see it in my eyes. He looks there, reading the message I display, I hate you. And I will claw my way out of whatever world you have put me in, whatever hell you are sending me to – I will scrap my way out to find and drag you down with me.

"I know," he whispers.

A satisfied feeling comes to me then. He did know.

And that image of his crushed face. The hopeless expression he wore. The single tear that was tracing against his skin.

The great leader has fallen.

I feel his lips press against my forehead. And the sensation of the heat he still was able to bring to me, and the hate that I felt now, were the last things I knew before the darkness closed in. 

That. was. so. long. 

Hi, hello, sorry for the long chapter. And sorry if a lot of you are going "what, that came out of nowhere" (um, not to me it didn't because peeps, I hate to break it to you, but the story is going how I planned it to go. There is nothing random about this) EVERYTHING HAS A REASON. 

I am not a random person. I'm not a random writer. I don't go "hey! let's throw in a kiss scene cause, OMG. I JUST LOVE KISSING!" No. There is a purpose. 

And no. This is not the end of the story. 

Hang in there with me. 

I hope no one sends me really bad death threats while you wait for the next update (*winks* evil laugh). Thank you for being so patient with me, and thank you to all who are sticking with the story and have hung in there (I'm sorry. I'm sorry.) 

I will try to do better (I am a broken record at this point). 

I hope you enjoyed the update! Thank you again for reading! ♥