Sometime before the time that many humans call Thanksgiving...
Chryrie had been deeply involved in her research. She was determined to find a specific artifact in her homeland. Something that would make her closer to Valheru.
The Valheru were the ancient race of Dragon Lords. They were powerful and brought down many other races, destroying all in their path until the Chaos War. The moredhel and eledhel were created by the Valheru as slaves to serve them. Once the Valheru were banished from Midkemia by the new gods, the moredhel race in general were driven with a need to find the items of power that had been left behind by their former masters.
Chryrie, although she was only half moredhel, was only marginally different. She just wanted power. The only problem was, the more power she gained, the more corrupt and wicked she became. Each new step fed the desires of her moredhel half, and it always wanted more.
Her brow was pinched together with concentration when she was suddenly no longer in her lab. She was surrounded by blackness. Chryrie blinked several times to make sure she was seeing, or not seeing, things correctly. The floor beneath her felt hard, but made no noise when she took a step. She lifted a hand and summoned light to her fingertips, but it couldn't permeate the darkness beyond a few feet. Her other hand lifted to repeat the light summoning as she turned to try and see all around her. It had the same effect, even when both hands were lit up. She had no idea where she was, and absolutely no idea how she got here.
Her mind was a whirlwind of thought. She felt no power surge that normally comes with a teleportation spell. She didn't feel off in the way that normally comes with lost time. No, she had been in one place, then the next second she was in another. But now where was this?
Her thin hands lifted and clapped over her head, sending out a ring of light from her like a shock-wave. While she could see the light as it expanded out further and further, finally fading out a great distance away, what it revealed was disheartening. She wasn't in a room or some expanse of platform. She was simply nowhere.
"This is ridiculous," Chryrie snorted derisively and moved her hands to create a portal.
Except a portal wouldn't form.
Her brow furrowed as she tried again. Nothing. So she tried a teleportation spell. Again nothing. She was trapped! She even pulled one of her beads from her hair and stepped on it to trigger that teleportation. Nothing. She thought perhaps to abandon the construct body and return that way, but there was a problem. Her expression became a mix of incredulous and worry as she put fingers to her neck. She had a pulse. She had forcibly been placed back in her real body at the same instant she was brought here. There was no magic that she knew of that could do that to her.
So she looked upward and started to call to the only one she knew who might be able to help her. "Khir-"
"ENOUGH!" A voice rumbled from the blackness. The power of it made her drop instantly to her knees with a gasp. It wasn't just loud. The voice itself carried such weight that she felt her mind reeling.
"Chryrie Tyraesae Onyafal," The voice intoned, using her fully moredhel given name. It made her flinch, but she was still defiant as she snarled before the voice could continue, even as she struggled to return to her feet.
"That's not my name!"
"SILENCE!" The voice boomed, sending her back to the ground with her hands over her elongated ears. "We will call you what we wish to call you. Back to your feet, mortal child. You who constantly seeks to be one of us."
Chryrie took several breaths as she returned to her feet. Her kaleidoscope eyes tried to pierce the darkness to find the source of the voice, but still found nothing. Meanwhile the voice continued on.
"We know what you're seeking. We know why you want it. And we know who's attention you're trying to get by doing this. You will fail. But to amuse ourselves, we have decided to help you out. But you will not join us completely. You are not ready."
"What do you mean?" Chryrie dared to ask. She braced herself for the knee-buckling boom she was certain would happen, but it never did. The voice sounded nearly amused instead.
"A demi-god isn't quite as powerful as we are. But it'll make you all that the Valheru were, and then some. Use it wisely."
Chryrie opened her mouth to ask another question. She wanted to know what the cost was. There was always a cost. But she never got the chance to ask.
A blinding light suddenly overtook her. Along with that light came pain. Mind numbing pain that left her unable to think or do anything... but scream. She screamed from the agonizing pain until everything went black again as she fell unconscious.