Birth and bereavement (Pre-edit)

Joined: Posts: -19

Tempest

A small sailboat more suited for fishing on lakes than sailing the sea drifts across an oceanic channel seperating an expectant mother from her husband. Clouds darken the horizon as the sun sets, bruising the sky and signalling something much more ominous to come. The mother gently pats her stomach and hums a sullen song ripe with longing.

"Ma'am, ye may wish te seek shelter in the den. Looks like our journey be a harder one than I first be judgin'." A swarthy man with a cloudy eye sitting dead its socket, covered in filthy clothes and an even filthier beard advises the pregnant woman.

She stands up and a gust of wind blows back the hood of her immaculate white robe revealing a glowing visage lost in contemplation, standing in stark contrast to the blackness approaching on the horizon. The curls of her platinum hair dance along the storm's wind and her auburn eyes focus on the captain, "Aye, sir. My gut stirs, I should feed it just as well."

The old pirate sets the wheel and follows her into the ship's hull. "Well ma'am..." He trails off idly and opens the cabinets across the galley's table. "I hope ye be cravin' bread and spiced rum, cause its all I 'ave stocked fer this here trip." The captain sets an old glass bottle, the label long since worn off and covered in dust, and 2 loaves of bread on the tabel with a thud.

"Bread'll do just fine sir, just something to quell the little one's complaints." The mother says in content and breaks off a chunk of bread. "The baby's father may not like me drinking the rum though, I thank you just as well sir."

"Aye ma'am, I find I be makin port better with strong port in my grasp at the wheel." the old sea dog says with a laugh and heads back on deck. Thunder booms in the distance and lightning flashes through the cracks in the ship, signalling the arrival of rain pelting the deck. The expectant mother breaks another chunk of bread off the loaf, rubs her swollen belly as her child becomes frightened and begins to hum.

Love of mine, we will meet in time.
Spread my wings and to you I'll fly.
Don't fret my child, no need to cry,
This trip is short, long are our lives.

The woman finishes her bread and with a violent crash the boat lists at an awkward angle, bringing her to her knees. "What was that?" She asks no one in particular. The boat rocks back once more and the bread slides off the table and slams into her face. "Captain! Get ahold of the boat damnit!" she barks at the pirate up on deck. "That's it, I'm going to see whats going on." the expectant mother states and heads up the stairs.

She is greeted by a torrent of rain crashing into her and winds gusting strongly threatening to sacrifice her and her unborn to the sea. "Captain!" she screams, frantically looking for the pirate. "CAPTAIN!! Where are you?" she beckons of the man, but to no avail. She rushes to the side of the boat as it sways dangerously in the swells of the storm. "Show yourself!!" the woman shrieks as she scans the sea. "There! I see you!" the mother yells upon seeing the now much cleaner bottle of rum floating, grasped tightly by the Captain's hand.

The boat sails closer and the woman reaches over the side to grab the hand. She closes her eyes and pulls as hard as she can, falling squarely on her rump with a thud. "Are you alri..." she starts and with horror stares at the severed arm of the former Captain in her grasp. "Oh..." she cries in disgust and soon the bread she has eaten finds it way onto the deck. A weevil squirms in the vomit as the mother puts her head into her palms and sobs. "Oh Roland!! What would you have your Zephyr do now?"

Minutes pass and the mother takes a deep breath.
'Check the wheel...' Zephyr thinks to herself and runs to the helm.

"Its still locked in place thank Ahandora. I'll just ride it out in the galley and pray for the..." Lightning flashes and the mother instinctively grabs the rum and flees to the asylum of the galley. She pops the cork of the bottle and says a prayer.

"Oh motherly raven, fly me to the safety of dry land and to my Roland. Give me courage..." She clutches her gut as her young one becomes excited. "Oh not now Zyghart!!!" she cries in frustration and turns the bottle in her hand upside down. "Just a little longer!" she gasps and the gate holding her child breaks and splashes onto the floor. "Ahandora!! Give this child patience!!"

Meanwhile, back on deck the old sea dog's arm slides off into the stormy sea as the boat rocks from another swell. A torrent of rain assaults the ship and a tempest wind pushes the sailboat forward at breakneck speed.

"Save your humble servant from a perilous death, grant me pardon from the wrongs I have done..." she prays and takes another drink.

The boat slips further away while the arm bobs in the water and a shadow arises from the depths beneath it, growing larger by the second.

"Tell my Roland I have always loved him, our life has been wonderful together..." Zephyr closes her eyes and tries frantically to remember a more peaceful time at her home on the Island Paradise.

Two giant slits for eyes appear beneath the arm and a gaping maw framed by thin black lips and lined with teeth the size of claymores breaches the surface. The beast swallows untold gallons of sea water and the arm with it.

Zephyr is doubled over and spasming in pain, grasping her stomach as Zyghart claws his way out of her womb and onto the floor. "Oh my child!!! You... are...." the mother passes out in exhaustion as the newborn flops out onto the floor covered in his mother's life's blood.

The leviathan floats on the surface making the greatest swells of the storm appear as ripples in a pond after a pebble is thrown in. Lightning flashes all around and its scales reflect an eerie blue hue. It spews the water from its mouth in a giant wave towards the ship.

Zyghart rolls against a cabinet as the boat rocks and he lets out a high pitched squeal in alarm, his mother rolls onto her face limp.

The enormous sea serpent darts towards the boat as its gaping maw drools in anticipation of a meal from the smell of blood and the sound of crying. Its great eyes fix on the deck of the ship and scan for signs of life but they find nothing. Now more curious than hungry, the lumbering leviathan sinks its teeth into the ship's stern and shakes it violently.

"Ugghh..." the mother groans and the cabinet behind Zyghart flies open. The great serpert stares directly at the source of Zephyr's groan and squeezes into the galley. It lets loose a ferocious hiss so loud it flings Zyghart into the cabinet and the door slams shut. The child lays instinctively quiet and peers out the gap in the cabinet as the leviathan moves closer to his mother. Zephyr sadly stands no chance in her condition, and starts to sing.

Don't fret my child, no need to cry,
This trip is short, long are our lives.
If mine should end as yours begins,
The goddess willing, my soul shall rend....

With jerking motion of the giant's torso, the leviathan descends atop Zephyr and bites the mother in half just above her waist. Blood sprays the walls and pools the floor as if red wings had sprout from the poor mother's hips. Her legs twitching as blood spews from her former stomache, the horrible monster finishes an easy meal. Zyghart's eyes glisten in the insanity and he somehow manages an inaudible giggle.

The sea serpent darts its tongue back and forth, it finds nothing more of interest and crashes through the deck of the ship, disappearing back into the abyss from whence it came. Rum spills into the blood pooling the floorboards and Zyghart falls asleep with a macabre smile.

Thunder roars in the distance behind the ship and the great tower of the port city Sehaelas looms closer.

---------------

Calamity

Prologue

Zephyr's platinum hair bounces with each skip through a glorious grove of willow trees. The sun beams overhead and pierces the canopy, illuminating Roland dressed in something other than the armor of a knight for a change. His leather jacket creaks as he stretches, and willow leaves waltz around his boyish face. No scars for a knight, a blessing not all have received. Zephyr twirls as the knight sits mesmerized, nestled comfortably against a tree. His green eyes sparkle in wonder of his beautiful new wife while she dances merrily around him.

Her bosom heaves up and sends her long curls springing, Roland can ignore her no longer and he stands to embrace her. His wife deftly pirouettes behind him and playfully smacks the back of his head, "You'll not win this game that easy darling." Roland's face becomes flushed and he spins to grab her again. "Typical..." Zephyr sighs and sweeps her husband's feet with a low kick.

Roland stares up at his wife from the grass...

Sir!! Wake up sir!!

"Huh?" the knight wonders and reaches up to grab Zephyr's ankle..

Grave news! Your wife's vessel has grounded on the beach near the port sir!! You must come see!!

Willow leaves rain down and Zephyr's auburn eyes fix on Roland's. She mouths the words, "I love you..." and the trees begin to shake, slowly fading as the dream ends. Roland jumps to his feet. "What is this you say?" he asks in a yawn.

A young page, his face still battling his youth, stammers and looks at the floor. "It's your wife sir... A fisherman saw the boat just a few moments ago." The page takes a deep breath, "We've found no sign of Zephyr sir, and from what the fisherman says he saw..."

"WHAT!" Roland's face flushes, "What did he see?"

The page briefly meets the knight's furious gaze and answers, "Sir, mayhap it best for you to see yourself."

"Retrieve my horse at once!" Roland commands and shoves the page out the door. The knight grabs his longsword from aside his bed, quickly dresses and runs out after the page. The page barely finishes saddling Roland's mount and the knight flies atop. "Which way do I ride? Tell me!" he screams angrily.

"Ride north along the beach m'lord, you'll not miss it." the page narrowly avoids being trampled as the knight races off towards the beach.

Roland's mind spins and he asks himself, "Fool! Why trust that haggard old pirate?" The knight makes a sign and spits as he reaches the beach. "Lutyre make swift my noble horse's hooves, let Zephyr be safe." he prays, his mount kicking sand into a cloud behind them.

Roland, why spend so much time in service? Surely you deserve your own time...

"If only I had listened, curse this burden of responsibility. When I find you Zephyr, we will leave this city and spend our days on the Island Paradise." Roland's heart races as the ship appears as a pinprick on the horizon.

Why Lutyre, Roland? We both know you enjoy the subtle vibration of blade ripping skin, we write our greatest works in the ink of our foe's blood. Is it for coin? Tell me...

"How else was I to make a living for us?" the knight shakes his head, and continues onward. He sees wood from the ship littering the beach and a large scale the size of a shield glimmering in the sun. "Lutyre, NO!!" he screams in horror and digs his heels into his mount's haunches, "FASTER!!" The clouds and the treeline aside him blur and he remembers Zephyr in the willow grove. "I love you." she says smiling.

Roland reaches the ship wreck and sees a disheartening sight. The front of the ship has deep gashes and something ivory broken and protruding. He dismounts and climbs the ship, but the deck is in pieces. The knight thinks he hears a whimper, and frantically searches the ship. Deckboards fly from the ship as Roland inches forward into the galley. "Sir!" the page screams, ducking the flying debris. "Did you see the monster's tooth?"

"Silence!!" Roland screams. "Come aboard and help me search!!" he orders the page, and the errand boy dutifully follows. After a few hours of work most of the debris is cleared from the galley and the two men shudder at the ghastly sight. Blood has dried into the shape of a bird with its wings spread and rising up the walls, its beak points at a cabinet. "Ahandora... the knight says disgusted and enraged.

"Sir, do you hear that? Something is crying inside yon cabinet." The page says. Roland walks around the blood and reaches over the stain to open the cabinet. "By the light of Lutyre!!" the page exclaims and spills his breakfast on the floor. Inside the cabinet lies Zyghart blackened by old blood, his ember eyes glowing and gnawing on a finger who has lost its owner. The knight reaches inside to grab the child as it drops the finger and Zyghart opens his toothless mouth to cry, a golden wedding band with the inscription Roland and Zephyr forever inside drops and lands at Roland's feet.

"Come my son.." Roland says with tears welling in his eyes. He drops to one knee and picks up his wife's wedding ring. "We go home now, may your mother find happiness in the afterlife." the downtrodden knight sighs and the trio retreat back to the city of Sehaelas.

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Joined: Posts: -19

I

"10 years." Roland says while stroking his chin. "Where does the time go? Seems like just yesterday the child was suckling the nurse and tripping over his own feet." He looks at his page and shrugs.

The former page, now a knight in his own right responds, "They do grow fast Roland, my own child will be 11 come another cycle of the moon." He puts his hand on his former master's shoulder, "Remember how we found him? He's come a long way from such inauspicous beginnings."

Zyghart's father watches as his son celebrates his 10th birthday by slashing away at a large straw dummy with a wooden sword. "How could I forget, Spencer?" Roland remembers the avatar of Ahandora, the raven, with its wings spread open in a gorey rune of protection inside the galley of the old ship. "That ship is still there, none dare go near for fear of being cursed. You know its said the shipwreck is haunted?"

Spencer makes the sign of Lutyre, "Aye, I've heard such tales from my page. Its best to forget that horrid place friend, better still to dwell on the future. Forgive me for bringing up such evil times."

"Its alright old friend, pray the child never learns of the place. He has more of his mother's blood in him than mine, his cuiousity may one day lead to his demise." Zyghart raises his wooden blade over head and thrusts it through his side, holding it with his arm. "Zyghart! The clever old strawman got you did he?" Roland says with a chuckle. His son lies as still as a cadaver with his eyes rolled back into his head. His father bends down and checks for signs of life. "Spencer!"

Roland's friend rushes over. "Whats the problem?" he asks gravely.

"Its Zyghart, it seems the strawman obliterated him with an attack that completely annihilated him! We best go and give his present to your son." Roland says and the 10 year old's eyes roll forward as he jumps up.

"My present? Where, father? Where is it?" Zyghart bounces excitedly. "I wasn't really dead, I was feigning so that I might decapitate yon foul beast!" he rolls to the ground and springboards up into the air with his blade. "Take that monster!" he screams and snaps the sword in two on the dummy's shoulder.

"Quite the clever one are we?" Roland grins. "Go inside son, we have much to talk about. The days of your boyhood are swiftly coming to a close." Zyghart throws the broken sword into the dirt and runs inside his father's house. "A nice house eh Spence?" Spencer nods in agreement and Roland continues, "Its taken me years to save up enough coin and quest tokens to have the rights to build it. Two bedrooms, a stable and a small lot of farmland." He pauses to think and looks upwards to the sky, "I had just finished fastening the last boards on the night she went missing. Lutyre do I miss her smile..."

Spencer consoles the man, "We may never know the events that transpired Roland. The works of the Gods are not for us to know, they move us around in a much larger work of art. Someday you'll get the chance to make your own with Zephyr." He musters up a smile, "I really must be going Rol' , the wife is making broiled leg of lamb tonight. Its the only thing she's ever cooked well." Roland laughs, the two men shake hands and he enters the house.

Zyghart is sitting stone still at his father's wooden table and waiting patiently for his gift. "Son, I've always tried to teach you the ways of the sword. Today though, I realize your mother lives on through you in more ways than I'd like to admit." He pauses to clear his throat and walks to a chest next to a bookcase. "What I'm about to give you is a weapon."

Zyghart's eye glisten, "Really! What is it?" he asks excitedly.

"Settle down boy, this is serious business and these are your mother's." Roland retrieves and opens an extravagantly ornate box decorated in gold and silver. "Before I can give you these you must do one thing." the boy's father says in a serious tone. The boy's smile vanishes and he nods. "I need you to understand me son, say you understand me."

"Aye sir, I understand. I will do whatever is asked of me." Zyghart stares into his father's green eyes, "Tell me father, I beg of you, what is it you ask of me?"

Roland opens the box to reveal two pearl handled daggers adorned with the images of a raven. The blades run the length of a man's hand, they are clearly a woman's daggers. A thin gold vein runs the center of each blade, and a golden claw decorates the hit of each. The velvet holding them whispers ominous deeds as Roland removes them. "I have no use for these, I was never one for daggers. Some men say that the sword defines the man, but your mother once told me it is not the power of the weapon but the skill of the one who uses it." Roland throws the first dagger towards his son.

Zyghart, lightning quick, reaches out and grabs the dagger by its hilt. "Father, why did..." he is cut short as Roland throws the next at him. The dagger flies straight at his face, and Zyghart has no choice but to shield his head with his bare palm. The blade spins at just the last second and the golden claw digs into the boys palm. "Father!!" he screams, infuriated.

"Your mother was right.... they are yours. I want you to go to the temple of Lutyre straight away, the priest there has some words for you as well and a prayer." Roland embraces his son and lies down on his bed in the next room. Zyghart sits trembling at the table his platinum curls shaking with tears welling in his ember eyes and his father tells him, "Go son, the night is coming and who knows what beasts may come."

Zyghart stands, puts his mother's daggers in his belt and heads outside. "Crazy old man. Was he trying to kill me?" the boy says to himself on the brief walk into Sehaelas. His father's home fades in the dark behind him as the sun sets and he begins humming a tune.

Love of mine, we will meet in time.
Spread my wings and to you I'll fly.

Zyghart stops singing and spins to look behing him. "Is anyone there?" he asks as the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end. He hears rustling in the grass to his right and puts his hands on his daggers. "I warn you, my father is a great knight and would think nothing of seperating your head from your worthless body."

A chuckle emenates from the darkness, "I care not child. Empty threats from an empty headed child. Those shiny blades would look nice in my foyer though." a rogue springs from the darkness, clad in black with shortsword drawn and motions for Zyghart to come over. "Come here boy, best not to lose your life over such sparkly baubles."

Roland's son stands defiantly, "I will lose my very soul for these, they are the last possession of my mother." Zyghart draws his weapons quickly and nicks the base of his right hand with such hasty motion.

"Foolish, look at your hand boy." Blood stains the tip of the dagger and somehow the raven on the handle begins to glow in the dark of the night. "Ahandora!" the rogue says in defeat. "We will meet again child. Next time you will NOT have the opportunity to hand them over." Zyghart's foe grabs a small purple potion from a pouch at its waist and vanishes.

Zyghart slides his blades back into his belt and sprints for the temple now but just a few hundred paces away. The priest of Lutyre is outside waiting patiently for the boy. He starts a quick prayer and a shrine dedicated to Lutyre appears to illuminate Zygharts step. "Sir!" the child yells to the priest. "There is a rogue on this road! He tried to steal my daggers!" Zyghart finishes out of breath as he reaches the temple.

The priest looks the boy over and asks, "What happened to your hand son?"

"I... I cut my hand trying to defend myself." Zyghart answers.

The priest chants another prayer and the wound on the child's hand closes as he finishes. "Come inside young one, we have some matters to discuss." He puts his arms around Zyghart and ushers him into the inner sanctum of the temple. "Now child, I trust your father has talked to you about your mother?" he inquires of the boy.

"N..n..no sir. He has only told me that she was a beautiful woman that vanished at sea." Zyghart states and instinctively grasps the hilts of his daggers.

"Aye, she did vanish at sea. Beautiful as she was, do you know why?" The priest inquires of the boy again.

"I've no idea sir." the child says with a frown. "I've asked myself many a night though. I dearly miss her." Zyghart wipes his nose and tears stain his white shirt.

The priest consoles the child with a fatherly pat on the back. "Your mother chose a darker path than your father, and she ultimately paid the price for such blasphemy." Zyghart's eyes dry and blood rushes to his cheeks. "Do not be angry young one, we all make our own choices." Lutyre's priest looks down at the daggers in Zyhart's belt. "I see your father gave you an heirloom. Those are unholy and evil relics, pray give them to me that I may dispose of them."

Zyghart rips away from the priest and stands. " I will never hand these to another person. If you wish them sir, you will have to pry them from my cold hands." Fire lights his eyes and the ravens stir on the daggers.

The priest chuckles, "I thought you might say as much. Look into this orb of Lutyre child and tell me after you've heard his word whether or not you still desire such dark blades." The priest utters some unintelligible words and a white orb descends from the ceiling. "Touch the orb child." he tells him and Zyghart obeys.

With a flash of light Zyghart is transported to another room. He is blinded by the whiteness of the room, and as his eyes focus willow trees begin to dot the room. He hears a song whispered among the trees.

Welcome my child, love of my life.
Pursue your heart, live not a lie.

Willow leaves blow around and Zyghart cries, "Is that you mother?" The song fades and a loud voice booms.

Live in the light child!
I am Lutyre and bless those that do holy deeds.
Your mother is gone boy, do not repeat her mistakes.

"What mistakes? What are you saying?" Zyghart demands of the voice.

Do not heed the call of the Assassin.
Such is the path of the damned.
Even your father shall pay for his transgressions against me.

"My father is a good man! He's spent countless years in your service and now you'll punish him as you did my mother? I WILL NEVER JOIN YOU!" the child screams defiantly.

Those daggers boy, I will not have them in my presence.
BE GONE!

With an explosion of light and sound, Zyghart finds himself back in the sanctum with the priest. "Pray tell child, what did the voice tell you? Did you find some comfort in our great God's word?" Lutyre's priest says with a smile.

"No sir. He said my mother was evil and that he would smite my father for being with her." Zyghart puts his head in his hands and whimpers. "What am I to do now sir? I cannot join such madness..."

"You would defy our holy God?" the priest says angrily. "Do you not wonder why your father stays outside the city as an outcast instead of inside the safety of its walls? Be gone child, do not come back until you've seen the light. I will talk to Roland in a few days time and see how you feel then." he picks the boy up by his ear and shoves him out the temple doors.

"A fine lot you are!" the child screams and runs home. He arrives and sees his father asleep in his bed. Zyghart deposits his mother's blades in thier box and crawls in bed with his father. The child is restless and takes some time to fall asleep as he thinks about the things that Lutyre and his priest relayed to him. He whispers, "I will find more about this Ahandora. I will not be my father, great a man as he is. Any man that lays his hand for my father's life will pay tenfold." He finishes his prayer and falls asleep.

The morning sun shines through the sole window in Roland's home and awakens him. He yawns and sees Zyghart still fast asleep. "Ahh... to be young again. The sun comes up now and beckons me to work." he stretches and gets dressed. The fire lights easy enough and Roland sets some water to boil as he packs his pipe with some herbal tobacco. There is a knock at the door and he stands up to answer it. "Spencer! Morning, how goes it?" he asks.

"I've managed to get us a furlough for today." Spencer says with a smile. "I thought maybe our sons could get to know one another."

"A brilliant idea! I assume you've trained your boy as well?" Roland inquires.

Spencer nods and replies, "Aye. I thought we could match them against the other children. Sort of see how they do. There is a tournament under way as we speak."

''Indeed, I will meet you at the arena shortly." Roland has visions of his son standing victorious and pride almost drips from his chest.

"We'll see you there then." Spencer turns and heads for the arena.

"Zyghart! Wake up!" Roland shakes his son and Zyghart responds groggily. "There is a tournament today! Other children your age are battling for the rights to become a page." he fusses his son's hair and continues, "Today you become a man." The water begins to boil over the fire and Roland pours two cups of tea.

"Father..." Zyghart yawns. "When does it start?" he says rising out of the bed.

"Its already begun. Dress quickly and I will meet you at the arena." the boy's father hands him a cup of tea and runs out the door.

Zyghart throws on his clothes and puts on a leather jacket. "This will absorb some of the blows." he says to himself and sips from his tea. He heads toward the door and the sun glints off the box holding his mother's daggers. "Always be prepared." the child advises himself and sticks the blades in the pockets of his jacket. Zyghart finishes his tea and darts out the door to the arena.

His father is already waiting for him at the gates of the arena. The bronze gates seem to tower over Zyghart and the noise of the crowd almost drowns out his father's voice. "What luck! I managed to squeeze you in next." He embraces his son warmly and throws the gates open. "Run my son! Prove to the world our name! Let it be known that the..." Roland's voice becomes lost in the fanfare as Zyghart enters the arena.

He turns in a circle in wonder of the amount of people crowded into such a small place. They almost seem to pour out over the benches lining the perimeter. A knight dressed in golden armor walks to him and hands him a small wooden shield and a longsword of the same making. "Good luck child..." he snickers. "You're going to need it."

The gates close behind him and the knight joins the crowd. On the far end of the arena Zyghart sees Spencer's son clad in iron armor. "What is he dressed in such lumbering equipment for? I thought this a test..."

Spencer's son smacks his shield with a wooden pole and yells, "Welcome whoreson! By the end of this day my pole will dent your head!" The armored child slowly walks to Zyghart.

"What did you call me?" Zyghart screams in anger. "You'll pay for such remarks!" and the boy runs headlong at Spencer's son. "Tell me your name so I know what to write on your grave!"

"Shayne! You will do well to remember it unholy demon." he grunts at Zyghart as they meet one another in the middle of the arena. They stare each other down, daring the other to make the first move. Shayne slams his pole on the ground and digs it into the dirt. He bends down and vaults himself at Zyghart with metal boots first.

Zyghart grabs the boy's boot and throws him to his back. Shayne slaps Roland's son smartly on the chin as he goes down. Zyghart is dazed and stumbles backwards. Spencer's son shuffles to his feet and grabs a handful of dirt. "Over here demon! Kinslayer! How does it feel to know you killed your own mother?"

The fog lifts from Zyghart's mind and he glares at his opponent. "How dare you!" he exclaims and swings his longsword at Shayne. Spencer's son ducks to the left and the blow goes sailing over his head. He throws his fist full of dirt like a true marksman and blinds Zyghart. Zyghart coughs and tries to clear the dust from his eyes and Shayne sweeps him with his pole. Zyghart falls on his face and Shayne pounces on his back.

"Repent and say Lutyre is the light of the world!" Shayne yells while pushing his shield into Zygharts neck.

Repent!
Kinslayer!
Demon!

The crowd chants and Zyghart struggles to breathe. Shayne raises his shield to strike the back of Roland's son's head. "Son! Get up! Zyghart!" Roland screams from the gates and Zyghart rolls forward, narrowly escaping Shayne's blow as his shield sticks into the ground. Shayne struggles to remove the shield from the dirt, but its firmly stuck giving Zyghart a moment to plan an attack.

Zyghart drops his shield and grips his longsword with both hands. He runs at Shayne as the armored boy raises slowly to his feet. Zyghart feints to the right just a few steps from Shayne and Shayne swings his pole at Zyghart's ankles again. Zyghart springboards off the pole, onto the shield and into the air above Shayne as Spencer's son follows halfway through his rotation. Zyghart screams and slams down on Shayne's head with a solid blow that seriously wounds him.

Blood trickles down the front of Shayne's forehead and stars dance across his vision. Zyghart swings his longsword for a final blow and it falls apart at the hilt. "Damnit!" he curses and slams his foot down on Shayne's wooden pole, breaking it into pieces and rendering it useless as well. Shayne, dazed, retreats to the edge of the arena and falls.

Zyghart stands defiantly in the middle of the arena and studies his opponent for weaknesses in his armor. "If I could just get to the straps at his back, I could take him down hand to hand." He observes and the crowd begins to boo and chant again.

Boo!
Kinslayer!
Whoreson!
Demon!
Slay the monster!

An iron shortsword is thrown on the ground next to Shayne and he quickly grabs it. "Now..." he says stripping away his armor. "I say one last time. Repent or DIE!!"

Zyghart spits on the ground and screams at the crowd, "I will never bow to your God! Lutyre is the light of fools and biggots! May I be a demon and a curse to this city until you learn the err of hypocrisy!" The crowd, and Shayne, gasp in astonishment.

Kill him!!
Kill him!!
Kill the heretic!!

The crowd stands to thier feet as Shayne lunges at Zyghart. Roland's son rolls to the right and Shayne quickly slashes at him. The blow tears through Zyghart's jacket and draws a few drops of blood. His mother's daggers fall to the ground and Zyghart fumes. He goes to one knee to pick them up and Shayne swings his shortsword in a deathly blow at Zyghart's neck.

Zyghart crosses his mother's daggers and catches the strike between the two. The two young men burn each other with stares of pure hatred and Shayne jumps backwards. "Big mistake..." Zyghart chortles demonically and slams both daggers into Shayne's ribs.

"Father..." Shayne cries, spitting blood onto the dirt. "I have failed..." He falls to his face in the dirt and the shortsword resonates against his metal boots. Zyghart spits on the boy and takes out his mother's daggers. Roland's son glares at the boy's body and turns him over to stare into his eyes. He sees fear in the boy's blue eyes. Shayne mouths the words, "Have pity..." Zyghart shakes his head.

He tries to open Shayne's mouth but the boy slams his jaws shut. Zyghart kicks the doomed child in his crotch and the boy gasps for air. Seizing the opportunity, Zyghart grasps Shayne's jaw and viscously cuts out his tongue. The boy twitches in the slaughter and starts to choke on his blood as it fills his mouth.

"Shayne NO!!!" Spencer cries and runs into the arena.

"Zyghart!!!" Roland races to his son and grabs him by his shoulders. "Hurry, you must go now. If you stay they will burn you at the stake." They run out the gates as the crowd rises to its feet after them.

Spencer cradles his son as he passes away and weeps for his loss. His former friend and his son leap up onto horses and ride for the beach. A massive uproar is building in the city and many knights mount up in pursuit. The father and his son reach the beach and Roland tells his son, "You are now a man my son. Ride north with no delay until you reach a shipwreck. Make for yourself a boat and Ahandora willing you will make it to the Island Paradise across the channel." He embraces his son for the last time and slaps Zyghart's mount firmly on the chops. "GO!!"

Zyghart screams back as he rides, "What about you?"

"Worry not about me child, the people of this city and I have made treaty long ago. Be well! Know that I will always love you!" Roland watches his son ride off into the distance and starts to cry loudly. He turns to face the posse of knights heading his way and he draws his well worn longsword. "I love you Zephyr." He sighs, and rides at the mob heading his way.
----------------

Joined: Posts: -19

II

Swords clash far in the distance behind Zyghart and echo inside his heart. His black mount breathes laboriously as it races down the coastline and he turns to look behind him. A knight is burning down the beach after him, his armor glistening in the sunset. The boy digs his heels into the steed's haunches and pushes it faster. Roland's child and the knight behind him pace each other for awhile, but Zyghart's mount begins to tire and one of Lutyre's many knights gains ground.

"Cursed zealot..." Zyghart says in disgust and spits on the ground. He scans his surroundings for a route to lose his foe. In the treeline to his left, the boy spies a beaten trail leading into the woods. "I'll lose him in the forest." Rolan's son says to himself in confidence and cuts through the trees. He speeds down the trail and comes to a fork in the path. Zyghart shoots a quick look behind him, the knight isn't there, and he jumps off his horse. He points his mount to the south and he slaps it on the rear. The black steed snorts and heads back towards Sehaelas.

The sound of the knight's armor rattling and the beats of his mount's hooves ring closer, and Zyghart dives into the brush littering the forest's floor. Roland's son dares not breathe as he waits for his enemy to reach the crossroads and prays for an opening to disable him. Lutyre's knight crashes through the treeline and comes to a stop at the fork. He spies the ground and sees the tracks of the boy's mount heading South. "Idiot child, he will run right into our hands." The knight says to himself with a chuckle and speeds down the trail after Zyghart's mount.

Zyghart exhales and stands in victory. "Idiot? I'm not the one chasing a horse..." the boy laughs to himself and heads north on the trail. "It would be best to stay in the cover of the wood to find this shipwreck." Roland's son places his hands on his daggers to check they are still there and begins a brisk jog. The night begins to cloud out the light of day and Zyghart periodically emerges from the wood to locate the shipwreck. He begins to lose hope of finding the ship when he sees a fire glowing in the darkness down the path.

"Wonder who..." Zyghart's legs are swept out from under him and he goes flying feet first into the air. A bell rings in the direction of the campfire while Roland's son reaches for his daggers to cut the rope binding him to the trap. The rope cuts easily enough and Zyghart flips forward onto his feet to land safely on the ground. "Why the hell put a trap out here?" he says to himself.

A familiar voice calls out from the darkness, "This is a trade route child. I've ended the lives of many a man whose pockets swell with coin in this very spot." A rogue steps out from the shadow of the wood and walks toward Zyghart. "I told you we would meet again boy. Pray tell me what leads you this way before I end your life." The rogue snickers and delves back into the shadows.

"I killed the son of a knight in competition today and now the entire city of Sehaelas may be bearing down on me soon." Zyghart scans the forest for signs of the rogue but cannot find it. He continues, "They most likely killed my father, he did manage to slow them down a bit though." Roland's son tightens his grip on his mother's daggers and spins slowly in a circle. "I've a question for you, will you answer?" Zyghart asks.

The rogue siezes the opportunity and leaps out of the brush behind Zyghart. The rogue grasps Zyghart's wrists firmly and wrestles them behind his back until the point of both daggers stab into Zyghart's back. "I will answer boy.... but ask wisely." the rogue whispers menacingly into Zyghart's ear.

The daggers dig further into Zyghart's back and he lets out a small whimper. "Can you tell me of any shipwrecks on the beach?"

The rogue wrenches the daggers from the boy's hands, throws him to the ground on his back and pins him there with one foot. "Shipwreck? SHIPWRECK!" The rogue screams a high pitched woman's scream and continues, "That cursed place haunts me child! It begs of me to protect the wielder of these daggers." she places her hands on the sides of her head and tries to shake the words out of her mind. "Come child, let us make camp for the night at my den. I will tell you more when we arrive." The rogue's eyes glaze and she takes her foot from Zyghart's chest and beckons for him to follow. Zyghart stands and reluctantly follows her down the path to the campfire.

His mother's daggers shine in the moonlight and sway lazily in the rogue's pockets. "Will you give my daggers back woman?" he inquires of the troubled rogue.

"If you can stop this horrid undead from bothering me, I may return one to you. We can bargain for the other." she answers as they reach the campsite. She walks over to an ancient, massive oak and spreads the moss covering the base to reveal a small door. "Put out that fire, bury it and come inside." Zyghart dutifully follows his orders and proceeds inside.

"Now then boy, it is not in my nature to bargain with any creature." She removes her mask and Zyghart is taken aback by her beauty. A young girl, not many years past Zyghart, with short cropped red hair and blue eyes as deep as the ocean lets out a small laugh, "Did you think me to be a man?" In a flash she strips her black leather armor off and throws it to Zyghart. "Put this on, they will not recognize you in this." Roland's son sits mouth agape staring at the girl. She has an athletic build, she is close to Zyghart's height and her curves signal her entrance to womanhood. Her crimson lips open and the nostrils on her thin nose flare, "Why do you stare at me boy?"

"I... uhh..." Zyghart stammers at the rogue dressed in minimal white underwear. She places her hands on her hips and cocks her head to the side. "Muh...mayhap we should introduce ourselves." Zyghart puts his hand out, "I am Zyghart, son of Roland and Zephyr."

"You'd think you've never seen a girl in her undergarments before." She reaches out to shake the boy's hand and hip tosses him to the ground, landing atop him. "I am the daughter of unknown parents, an outcast set to live on her own by her own people. I have made for myself a life of greed and opportunity, my name is Marilythe." She bends in close to Zyghart's face, "Best not to forget it child." Marilythe the rogue takes out one dagger and stabs it next to the boy's head. She leaps to her feet and shrugs, "Too bad you one such as yourself is so young, you've a handsome face."

Zyghart grabs the dagger and sits up. "Tell me what you know of the shipwreck.... please Marilythe."

"Many a night I've sit here and heard the wail from the beach." She sits atop a wooden chest in the middle of the room and continues, "I came to this place many years ago. So long now, I can barely remember what drove me here." Her azule eyes glaze over again and she is lost inside her memory.

Bastard child!
Thief!
Kick the little princess!

A young Marilythe runs through Diablous with a loaf of bread stolen from a vendor. The vendor is chasing her through the street with a large butcher's knife raised overhead. "Get back here!" He screams and trips over his own feet. The young rogue turns to look and sees the vendor fall atop his knife. He places his hands out to catch himself and the cleaver cuts directly into his nose. Blood sprays across the dirt street and hits an onlooker. He shudders in disgust and screams, "Murderer!"

Marilythe watches as the vendor's nerves cause his feet to twitch behind him and she runs as fast as she can out of town. "They'll have my head!" She cries to herself and escapes into the darkness of the trees outside Diablous. The young rogue starts bawling loudly inside the Chittering Woods and the forest begins to stir. Leaves rustle behind her and she spins to face the noise.

"Why do you disturb the peace of my wood girl?" The wind seems to whisper through the leaves and debris covering the forest floor. A face emerges briefly, made from the very dirt and leaves of the wood. Marilythe sniffles, stifling her crying somewhat. "Children have no need of tears, give me a laugh young one." A strong breeze blows the dust from the ground upwards and two fish form and begin playfully darting through the air. This is enough to calm the child and she soon has a smile on her face.

"Make a horsey!" she claps excitedly.

The fish dissolve and a pony appears running around Marilythe's head. "Now child, tell me what brings you here? Surely your kin desires your location, they are probably looking for you now." the wind whispers through the wood.

Marilythe answers the spirit, "I've no..." she puts her face into her dirty dress and whimpers, "...no family. I've been an orphan my entire life and today a vendor in Diablous died because of me. If I stay there now, they will surely have my head." Marilythe begins to bawl again, tears streaming down her chin and turning the dirt beneath her to mud.

"I can see what you say is true....Marilythe. Follow the horse as it dances through the wood, soon you will be brought to a safe place with all you need." The breeze blows softly and the dirt horse flies into the forest with Marilythe close behind.

Marilythe stands and opens the chest in the middle of the room. She grabs more black garments from inside and dresses. "I found this place quite comfortable. It wasn't until much later the spectre began bothering me and haunting my dreams." Marilythe closes the trunk and walks to a cot on the north side of the room. "Almost every night I can remember since I've been here it wails along the beach. On really dark nights, the foul creature comes right up to my door and invades my very dreams." She shudders uncomfortably and looks at Zyghart. "We will stay here tonight. If by the morning the beast has not awaken me, I will take it as a sign and bring you to the ship." She twirls the other dagger in her hand and throws it to the boy. "You can have these both child. If you feel brave enough, you can even try to slit my throat while I sleep. Pray the spectre leaves us alone tonight."

Zyghart looks around the circular room for a comfortable place to rest and asks the rogue, "Did you ever go back?"

She shakes her head, "No and I never will. A pox on that city, I stay here along this road and steal from any who dare cross..." Marilythe yawns and pulls her woolen blanket over her shoulders. "If they are foolish enough to fight back, I kill them with no remorse. Best to remember that Zyghart." She closes her eyes and drifts to sleep.

Roland's son is amazed at the simplicity of this room, nothing in it save for a chest and a simple cot Marilythe sleeps on. He throws the clothes she gave him on the floor on the opposite side of the room and lays atop them. "Begs of me to protecter the wielder?" Zyghart stays awake momentarily listing questions but is quickly subdued by the exhaustion of the days events and falls into a deep sleep.

He dreams of harvest at his father's farm and the joy he had in crushing the watermelons with his wooden sword. Zyghart is destroying the field and flinging bits of fruit in all directions when he is awakened by a sharp pain in his ribs. He opens his eyes to see the rogue dressed in full camoflauge. "How long have you been awake? Did the ghost wake you?" he asks.

A sparkle glints in her eyes and she answers, "No. It was the most peaceful night's rest I've had in a while. You have gained reprieve temporarily, get dressed and we head out immediately." Marilythe slides open a knothole in the tree and scans outside for passersby. "We are clear, I will meet you down at the beach." She opens the door and vanishes into the sunlight.

Zyghart is blinded momentarily by the sudden flood of light and shields his eyes. His dresses while his eyes adjust and a figure walks into the room. The door slams shut and Zyghart asks, "Is that you Marilythe?" Just when his eyes focus on the figure, all light drains from the room and a cold draft cuts straight to the core of Roland's son. He shivvers uncomfortably, "Who is there?"

Love of mine, we will meet in time.
Spread my wings and to you I'll fly.

"Mother?" Zygharts eyes focus and he walks toward the shade. "What do you want?"

My time is short, the journey's long.
You must be smart as well as strong.
The beast awaits, its stomache yearns,
Its mouth agape my soul it burns.

An evil pale face emerges from the shadowy figure. Its eyes bloodshot and sunken. The spectre starts a smile and reveals hundreds of needle sharp teeth. It lunges for Zyghart to steal his life in a last embrace.

IT BURNS!!

Marilythe barges in the door and the sun destroys the shade just as it reaches Zyghart. "Come boy! Afraid of a little ghost? I've a feeling you've got much worse things to come." She taps her foot and Zyghart jumps to his feet and flies out the door. "Okay, you ready?" the boy nods his head and Marilythe closes the entrance to the ancient oak. She hides it with moss and continues, "Try and keep up okay?" The rogue darts off in the direction of the beach and Zyghart follows close behind.

They weave in and out of the trees lining the road for hours and Zyghart relays to her his own story. The duo reach the edge of the wood and Marilythe runs up a fallen tree and jumps out into the clearing of the beach. Zyghart follows but the tree crumbles just as he takes his last step and he tumbles head over heels onto the sand. The rogue laughs and points at the ship but a quick sprint away. The ivory tooth gleams in the light at the front of the ship and Zyghart thanks the rogue heartily. Marilythe looks the child over once and scans her surroundings. "If ever you find yourself back in these parts, look me up. I can use...." she trails off and hugs the boy warmly. Zyghart squeezes her tightly and she vanishes back into the wood.

Roland's son looks overhead and thanks the gods for giving him a clear sky. The ship sits on its side, bleached by the sun with gaping holes in its frame from years of sand ripping into it. Zyghart comes closer to the ship as sea lice and cockroaches scurry underneath the shipwreck. He stares into a gaping hole in the side of the ship and he sees shadows move restlessly in the corners of the old galley. The hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end and the clouds overhead temporarily block out the sun.
The shadows coalesce and stand. Roland's son backs away and the shade mutters, "Make for yourself a raft and flee to the Island Paradise and you will find your mother's family there.....son. Tell them nothing of Lutyre."

The sun begins to escape the prison of the clouds and the shade musters another statement before it vanishes, "Knights are headed quickly to this place, they mean to burn it down. Go....qui...lov..." The shade explodes into a swarm of cockroaches and falls to the floor as the clouds clear and the sun pierces the darkness. Zyghart begins breaking boards from the ship and looks for some rope. He takes his daggers and carves holes into the boards and strings them together with the anchor rope on the starboard side of the ship. His raft comes together quite well thanks to the abundance of material and he looks for something large enough to mount the frame on.

He scans the area and finds nothing. Zyghart pauses to ponder his situation and leans against the ivory tooth protruding from the ship. The ship moans with the extra weight put on it and an entire section falls off with the tooth into the surf. The boy falls on his back into the wet sand and sees the tooth floating in the water. "Its hollow? I can use that!" he exclaims and drags the tooth back to the sand. The rest of the broken pieces crash against the shore while Zyghart fastens his frame to the tooth. "Just barely enough rope." he says to himself in content.

Roland's son steps back to look at his accomplishment. "Looks a bit like a bucket..." he says. "As long as it floats, I could care less. May Ahandora fly me across this sea with no delay." He drops the sail on the bucket ship and pushes it out into sea. Zyghart struggles breaking free from the surf, but manages to sail out into open water with the help of an extra wooden plank he took just in case of such an emergency. Another day passes and the stars dot the sky above the boy. The waves rock Zyghart into slumber and he awakens briefly to set the rudder to stay on course. He stares up at the night sky and drifts lazily into sleep.

An old friend stirs beneath the water....

Zyghart turns over in his sleep, snoring loudly. His mother's daggers roll out onto the planks of his shoddy ship.

The leviathan leaves its home in the abyss and ascends...

Zyghart dreams of Marilythe.

A shadow grows larger beneath the bucket ship...

Joined: Posts: -19

Confrontation

Prologue

A thud against the bottom of Zyghart's boat wakes him. Daggers in hand, he jumps to his feet expecting to see the shores of the Island Paradise a short distance away. "A reef? In the middle of the straight?" the boy looks over the edge and is amazed at what he sees. "I've never seen a reef like this..." He trails off and a tower rises from the water, mouth agape and eyes burning with hunger. The shadow from the leviathan blots out the moonlight and blankets Zyghart in a shower of seaspray. Zyghart spins to face the disturbance and screams.

The reef moves beneath him, and the boat is overturned. Roland's son is thrust into the frigid waters and curses as his mother's daggers sink into the murky abyss. He watches as the last rays of moonlight sparkle on the golden claws before disappearing from his sight. Blood rushes to his face and he swims towards the beast. The enormous sea serpent roars a ferocious hiss and descends upon the boy. The serpent's body beneath the water rises closer to the surface and Zyghart stands atop the leviathan running across the sea at the serpent. Blue scales fill the sea like an azure highway in front of Zyghart and he jumps at the beast screaming like a lunatic. The leviathan snatches him out of the air and swallows him in a single moment.

Darkness...

The smell of rotting flesh...

Zyghart drifts along, barely conscious in a desolate wasteland. Muscles expand and contract and deliver him to his would be demise. He feels his shoulder pop, his ribs crack and it becomes hard to breathe. The stench makes it harder still, and for time beyond imagining the boy suffers through the leviathan's body. Hunger and thirst destroy the boy's mind and beseige his body with tremors and pain. Zyghart can feel nothing but the hunger and he lashes out at the walls constricting him with animalistic bites. Fluid fills the boy's mouth and he swallows flesh and blood. His hunger abated, his thirst quenched, the boy sleeps. Zyghart is pushed along, deeper into the beast and the pressure from the walls surrounding him crush his left arm completely. Hunger and thirst constantly ravage the boy, and he repeats the maddening pattern.

The pressure on the boys body lessens after some time and quickly awakens him, his elven eyes spy an opening ahead of him and Zyghart draws in a breath. The pink opening leading to the leviathan's stomach expands and contracts in rhythm as Zyghart prepares for the end. He closes his eyes and falls through the opening into a macabre lake of fluid. With his senses deadened it takes time for the boy to feel his skin burning, but he does...

It burns...

IT BURNS!!!

A voice in his head shakes him to consciousness and he frantically swims in the lake looking for any place to pull himself out. His left arm is useless and drags behind him, but miraculously Zyghart finds a small recess in the beast's stomach. He drags himself out of the lake and onto a throbbing mass of flesh free from the burning lake. His eyes closed, the boy completely fatigued, he sleeps once more.

Zyghart's feet throb in pain and he awakens to a devilish sight. A one armed water demon, no bigger than a squirrel, gnaws on the boy's toes. The boy manages a kick with some effort and sends the monster flying into the lake. The demon shrieks in agony, "Save me boy!! I cannot swim..." It drops briefly below the surface and claws its way back up. "Have mercy!" the demon begs and sinks again.

Using his last bit of strength, Zyghart throws his right arm into the burning lake and grasps the monster by its throat. "I.... need... sleep." The boy states in exhaustion and drops it on the floor beside him. The blue demon's eyes glow yellow in the darkness, steam rises from its flesh and it smiles with a row of needle teeth. " We will... talk..." the boy trails off and passes out once more. The water demon dances around the boy in a circle, careful not to fall into the lake, and sings in an unknown tongue.

Zyghart dreams of nothing, his very life force is so weakened he can do nothing but sleep. The demon singing right beside him seems distant, like some unknown screaming across a vast chasm. The words comfort the boy, though he knows not what they are. Blue glyphs dance across his consciousness, deep in the recesses of his mind he sees them. They spin in a circle and begin to take the shape of a tower. A great tower stands in his mind and a mountain looms in the distance behind it. Zyghart sees a thin goblin hopping around nervously at the base of the tower and watches as a man comes rushing out the tower's door with a glowing dagger clutched to his breast. A name comprised of two words echoes across his mind, but he senses it is somehow sacred and dares not verbalize it. The dream fades, and blackness fills his mind once more.

The demon chants for hours, days, and months over Zyghart with weak spells in an attempt to heal the boy. Stubble raises on the boy's once youthful face, and time drags on. Zyghart lies in deep sleep for many years, fed by the demon he has saved. The water demon watches over his master for an eternity as fish pour into the lake, with a hungering gaze on Zyghart's feet, and waits patiently for the man, a boy no longer, to awaken. Zyghart screams in his sleep constantly, he has nightmares about the shades in the Chittering Wood, his mother's daggers vanishing and of Marilythe in her home in the tree. After much time and many failures, the demon completes his ancient magic and brings Roland and Zephyr's son back from the very brink of death.

Zyghart opens his eyes with a yawn and stretches his stiff limbs. "My arm? My ribs? My clothes!" He looks at the demon in front of him and asks, "What did you do to me demon?"

The blue demon bounces in excitement and claps its one hand on its furry chest. "Master, master! You've awaken!" It runs to him and jumps on his chest, "I've done naught to heal your arm and ribs, you've done that yourself. Your clothes fell to tatters long ago as well. The old magic I sang brought you back across the old river." The demon waves its one arm in front of it and the years of servitude pass through Zyghart's mind in an instant.

"How many years is it demon? How long has it been!" the man screams in anger.

The blue demon carves a number into the red flesh beneath them with a black fingernail. "20 years? Surely you are mistaken. Show me my face!"

The little blue devil plucks a blue hair from its chest and pulls at it for a few seconds. The hair becomes longer and takes the shape of a quill. The demon utters a few words and draws a circle into the leviathan's flesh next to the number. The red flesh inside quivvers briefly and shines in the darkness. Soon a reflective surface appears.

Zyghart crawls over to the strange mirror and stares into his reflection, completely confused. He no longer recognizes his own face. There are burns running across his cheeks and bright red splotches on his neck. A short beard hangs on his chin and his eyes no longer glisten with that impish sparkle children have. His jaw drops and he asks the demon, "Do... you have a name?"

"Aye. I've not said it in so long..." the demon strokes the blue hairs on its pointy chin. "Pes Everto Aequora!" The demon stares at the man's foot and dances happily.

"I will call you Pes." Zyghart stands and Pes lunges at his bare feet. "Demon!" the man shouts and kicks the monster into the lake once more.

"Save me master!" Pes gurgles in the leviathan's stomach fluid. "Master! I'll not do it again..." It sinks beneath the surface. Zyghart reaches in and pulls the little demon to safety once more.

"Now tell me..." the man says menacingly with his hand wrapped around Aequora's throat. "How do I leave this place?"

Pes squirms in Zyghart's grasp and makes a strange motion with his furry hand. The living walls surrounding the crevice in the leviathan's stomach quivver and tear open. "Through there master! We must find the old mage!" Pes Everto Aequora wheezes from within Zyghart's grasp.

"An old mage?" the man asks puzzled. "What would an old mage be doing in such a place?" He drops the demon and it scurries quickly to the opening.

"Come master! We must go quickly, he is not even aware of your presence here!" The demon motions and a blue glyph floats in the air, illuminating the dark tunnel.

"This had better not be a trick demon..." Zyghart mutters and follows the demon into the darkness. The wall behind them closes and Zyghart and Pes start the long journey deeper into the leviathan.

I

Veins line the walls of the living tunnel, the sound of the leviathan's blood rushing along its way sounds almost like the surf crashing against the beach Zyghart thinks to himself. "How far is it?" the man asks the furry blue demon in front of him.

"We've a long way to go master. Our journey has just started!" the water demon answers and waves its clawed hand in front of it while uttering a few unknown words. The blue rune floating in front of them shimmers and two drops of water fall onto the ground causing two fish to materialize out of the flesh beneath the adventurers. "Should we stop and eat before we continue?" Pes inquires hungrily.

"Aye demon, rest here momentarily as I've more questions for you." Zyghart reaches down and grabs a sparkling green fish that flops around on the ground. It tries to free itself from his grasp and Zyghart sinks his teeth deep into its back, spitting out scales and tiny rib bones. Blood trickles down the corner of his mouth and he asks with a mouthful of fish, "How is it you came to be here, and what happened to your arm?"

Pes grabs its bottom jaw and pulls it open wide enough to swallow the entire fish. Its eyes shine yellow briefly and it answers after with a belch, "... Once, long ago there was an old Mage and an ancient Ranger." The little demon grabs two scales from the ground and throws them into the glyph. The glyph responds by sending a shower of sparks to the ground, and two figures stand from the red floor. They run across the floor and embrace each other frequently. "The two were inseperable. Thier love for the water was the only thing greater than thier love for each other. The mage, Delia was past her prime and nearing the end of her life. Most of her kind regarded her as an old hag, a witch, an undesirable."

One of the figures grows into the shape of a tower and the other wears a sorcerer's hat atop its head. Surrounding the tower are scores of children and Delia shoots fireworks into the sky above them. Explosions of color appear as green dragons, blue eagles, purple demons and yellow jesters each jousting in mid air. A gorgeous smile illuminates the mage's visage and she appears satisfied. Her features are young, soft and gnomish as mage's tend to be. She has sky blue hair, azure eyes and even her skin has a pale blue tint to it. Being not taller than a grown man's knee, she is built attractively for her size. Not quite short and fat, but not quite lithe and limber. The children around her grow before Zyghart's eyes and the mage's hair turns grey. There is some sort of a disturbance, inaudible words are screamed and Delia is chased from the town.

She wanders around in a wood, weeping frequently as comes to rest at a lake hidden in a forgotten forest. She drops her bare feet in the water and her tears ripple across the surface of the lake. After some time a fish, curious as to what is going on, swim up to the disturbance and sees 10 worms sitting ever so still in the water just near the surface. They are the most delectable things the little fish has ever seen and its sinks its tiny teeth into the largest worm it can find. Delia shrieks and grabs the fish from the water, ripping a fin from its torso in the process. She stares curiously at the fish and watches as it frantically tries to breathe on land. Its eyes take a dull look to them, and it is in the very last moments of its life. It stares longingly at the water, then at the mage's toes and flops once more at her feet and suckles on her toe.

Delia falls over laughing and soon stands. She performs an ancient ritual and utters incomprehensible words and the fish sprouts fur. Its blue transparent fin becomes solid and elongates ito the shape of an arm. Four claws sprout from the end and the rest of the fish soon takes the shape of a demon. Pes gasps and struggles with his first few breaths of air, and soon the two start talking. Hours go by full of laughter and a figure breaks through the treeline surrounding the lake. A slim figure quite larger than Delia takes aim with a bow from the other side of the lake and sends a bone-tipped arrow sailing across the water. It lands a few steps away from Delia and Pes and the mage stands up furious. Her eyes glow and all hidden fiends are ousted from the shadows.

She screams at the Ranger and sends a barrage of fireballs across the lake. The Ranger barely avoids being singed and clouds form over his head. He notches another arrow into his bow and suddenly...

CRACK

Lightning zaps the Ranger and he is thrown into the lake, burnt and barely conscious. Instinctively Pes dives in the water and soon starts screaming. In an effort to save her familiar, Delia freezes the lake and walks across the surface. She melts the ice around Pes with a few words and the two journey over to the Ranger. A few words are said and the Ranger and Mage quickly come to an agreement. Delia follows the Ranger away from the lake and into the wood.

Zyghart finishes his fish and throws the carcass to the demon. It unhinges its jaw and snatches it out of the air. "Very good Pes, but who is the Ranger and how did you arrive here?" With a pause for a moment of thought, Zyghart asks another question "And how does Delia tie in with all this?"

The water demon cracks its jaw with a quick jerk of its head and it slides back in place. Pes strokes the blue hairs on its chin and continues, "Delia stayed with the Ranger. It was many years with the three of us together, keeping charge over the lake before we learned his name. It wasn't until..." The demon trails off and waves its arm once more.

The rune glows green, and showers the floor with green droplets. Tree's shoot up all around the two of them and the lake materializes in the center. Delia and the Ranger sit talking shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the shore, much closer than the last time they met when a commotion in the distance sends animals running thier way. The Ranger darts off in the direction of the sound and is met by a small army of knights and dwarves. There is much hand gesture and a mounted knight mouths the words, "We build Lutyre's great city of Sehaelas with the wood from this place. Leave or be buried." The Ranger fires an arrow point blank into the knight's face with blinding speed and disappears into the wood behind him.

He meets Delia halfway back to the lake and finds Pes close behind her. The Ranger tells Delia his name. "I am Silvanemus, protector and tamer of all creatures in this wood. Knights and tree cutting dwarves come here any moment to raze this place, we must defend it!" Delia senses Silvanemus' plan and points to a snake swimming through the lake in search of a meal. The ranger's eyes glisten and he beckons the beast to him. Delia shouts words in a guttural tone and the snake grows as it reaches Silvanemus. In moments the snake reaches the size of a Wyrm, and still grows as Delia dances and chants. The sound of hoofbeats echo closer and Silvanemus desperately attempts to finish taming the massive serpent.

The serpent turns blue as Delia's eyes and slithers onto land, its eyes locked with the ranger's. Silvanemus moves left, so does the serpent andn soon the two mimic each other's exact moves perfectly. Axe wielding dwarves and mounted knights crash through the treeline and stop dead in thier tracks at the sight they are met by. The great blue serpent glows bright blue, its body growing longer, and Silvanemus turns to face the mob behind him. Delia still chanting and dancing in the background, the ranger points at the mob and the leviathan does not take its eyes off the ranger. Not wanting to face the monster, the mob turns tail and flees back into the forest. Silvanemus screams and turns around just as the monster devours him.

Pes leaps atop the serpent in revenge with Delia still lost in trance and the horrible beast swallows him as well. The serpent continues to grow and scoops Delia atop its back as they sail through the forest towards the sea. Delia sings and sings... stuck in her spell, somehow tragically doomed to repeat the cycle unto to eternity. The green trees lining the floor beneath Zyghart and Pes vanish and a beach materializes. A strange thing happens and Delia begins to sink into the very skin of the monster, just as the leviathan reaches the sea and dives in... she vanishes.

"So is Delia still here somewhere? Is she still performing her spell?" Zyghart asks.

Pes waves its arm again, the spell dissipates and the glyph glows bright blue once more. "Aye, master. Some place through this tunnel she sings and waits for me to free her. I've been through here countless times, but the monster has many traps in its bowels. I can go no further without help."

"What sort of traps?" the man questions the demon.

"We will see, we will see..." it trails off and the duo begins thier journey once more. They walk a hundred steps, a thousand, a hundred thousand... and still the tunnel just continues on. The veins along the walls become smaller the further in they go, and the two stop occasionally for fish and water. Gradually Zyghart notices the tunnel growing shorter and he eventually has to crawl to proceed. Pes, with such small stature, easily navigates and waits patiently for the man to catch up.
A few hundred thousand more steps and Pes puts its hand up to signal Zyghart to stop just short of the crest of a hill. The fleshy floor has turned to bone now, and the demon puts a single finger over its thin black lips. "Shh..."

Zyghart crawls forward over the hill quietly and gasps quietly and the sight in front of him. Hundreds of flourescent blue eggs glow in the darkness and black shadows dance across the ceiling of a dome shaped cavern covered in ebony bone. Zyghart thinks he sees a black shaped zip through the eggs, but quickly dismisses it as a shadow. He crawls back down the hill to Pes and says, "There are eggs everywhere in there! You've been here before?"

Pes' face becomes pale blue and he answers, "I've not made it past this place master. Some evil guardian slithers round in there. I've seen it but once and would not wish so again." The demon tugs at Zygharts hand and begs, "Please master, let us sneak past this place quickly. Something is very wrong here."

Zyghart nods and an evil smile stretches across his face as an idea finds its way to life. "Pes..."

"Yes master?" the demon answers.

"You must go out there and make the guardian present itself. I will study its build and try to pinpoint a weakness. Once I find one, I will quickly come and disable it." Zyghart points over the hill and pushes the demon upwards.

"But sir..." the demon begs. "ZYGHART!"

The man shakes his head and throws the demon over the hill and it lands with a small squeek atop an egg near the center of the dome. Zyghart crawls to the top of the hill and waits as Pes nervously scans his surroundings. A shadow on the north side of the room catches the blue demon's gaze and Pes spins to face it. "Hello?...." it says to the darkness.
Silence for a moment and one of the eggs jostles with movement. It shines in the darkness and a dark blue shadow stirs inside. The shadows around the column holding the egg vanish, and the glowing egg begins to crack at its top.

"Zyghart...." Pes utters quietly. As the egg's contents struggle to break free, the shadows surrounding the column return and visually drain power from the egg. The egg's bright blue glow runs down the column like water and dissipates into the shadow surrounding. The blue demon stares, puzzled, and looks over to Zyghart.

The naked elf hiding in the shadows over the hill shrugs and points back behind Pes. Zyghart whistles as a pointy eared shadow stands up behind the blue demon. Pes spins slowly to face it's opponent and two green eyes open in the darkness standing before him. The demon starts to speak and the figure dives at Pes.

Thier opponent comes a hair's length away from devouring the little blue demon in a single bite and Zyghart tackles the strange green eyed elf to the ground. The elf is stunned and lies motionless as Zyghart stands to his feet. Pes looks closely at the green eyed stranger and says in disbelief, "Silvanemus?" Zyghart raises an eyebrow in interest as he disarms the old ranger and confiscates his clothes.

The clothes, a green leather tunic and some travelling pants fit well and Zyghart twirls a one handed iron sword in front of him. He kicks a visibily weakened Silavenmus, greyed by years of undeath in the serpent. The blue energy from the egg swirls around him as smoke to a fire for an instant, and he stands to one knee. "Sehaelas..." the undead ranger says in a monotone whisper. His green eyes flood with darkness and become black as he stands to his feet. Silvanemus retreats back a few steps and taps two eggs. They glow pale blue and the old ranger reaches behind his back for something. Zyghart readies himself for Silvanemus' attack and proceeds slowly to the old ranger.

A blue spark explodes behind Silvanemus' back and he pulls from it a bolt made of pure energy. With a deft roll to the left, the old ranger notches the bolt and fires it with an audible boom at Zyhart's face. Pes' spellrune appears a few moments before the bolt hit's its master's head. Zyghart thinks he is hit and falls back a few steps, knocking over a couple of eggs before finally coming to his bearings. The eggs crush on the bone beneath them and Silvanemus shrieks a ghastly hiss." Dirty trick..." Zyghart mutters as Silvanemus pulls another arrow from behind his back.

Pes bounces in excitement and screams, "The eggs! He's using them somehow!" Its blue spellrune floats down to a nearby egg and zaps the blue oval with its own magic. The egg shakes violently and takes the shape of a halfling's girl's foot. Pes' yellow eyes shine and he swallows the former egg in one gulp.

Zyghart runs to the perimeter of the bone tower knocking eggs over in his wake. Roland's son stiffens his arm and cuts a circle around the cluster of eggs, spiralling at Silvanemus. Pes' protection rune shatters as another bolt explodes just a short distance from Zyghart's head. "The rune is gone master!" Pes kicks over a few eggs and shouts at its master, "Be careful!"

Silvanemus notches another bolt in his bow and manages a strained grunt, "This one will not miss..." The remaining eggs in the room begin to glow in unison and Silvanemus' bow begins shooting off sparks. The electricity condenses a few inches around the energy bolt and the old ranger shoots the arrow into the air overhead. The bolt crashes into the bone ceiling of the dome above them and ricochets into a thousands shards through the battlefield. The eggs fall apart and Zyghart, Pes and Silvanemus all fall to the floor.

Black blood sprays from Pes, staining the bleach white walls like a leaking quill as it lies mortally wounded on its side. "Master... Silvan..." it gargles a few unintelligble words as it drowns on its life's blood. Zyghart and Silvanemus begin moving slowly.

Hundreds of tiny black holes absorb the remaining magic swirling around Silvanemus' tired frame. "Anything..." He rolls to his side and looks at Zyghart. "....left?" the old ranger says in a gravelly voice.

Zyghart sits up and looks himself over. "What? All that and you missed..." Roland's son laughs loudly and jumps to his feet, iron sword drawn. "I don't imagine I'll be needing this..." he says mith a macabre grin. He throws the blade at Silvanemus and runs at him. The blade lands close to the old ranger and the elf sits up to grab it. Zyghart grabs the ranger's head with his hands and digs his fingers into the little black holes in his neck. Silvanemus screams hoarsely and Zyghart rips the undead's head off with a visceral jerk upwards. Silvanemus green eye's glow brightly blue and the remaining magic around the old ranger is swept down the tunnel with a gust of wind.

Zyghart smiles with the glowing zombie's head in his grasp when suddenly there is a sharp pain at his feet. He looks down and sees a bloodied Pes. "She knows.... Delia knows you're here now." The little blue demon's eyes take a dull look to them and it stops breathing. Zyghart kicks his deceased familiar at Silvanemus headless corpse and ventures deeper into the dark tunnel ahead of him alone with iron sword in one hand, and glowing blue zombie ranger head in the other.

Dark blue glyphs mark the line the living passage occasionally as Roland and Zephyr's triumphant son ventures ever deeper into the leviathan. For some time Zyghart thinks he hears singing, and he becomes aware someone is singing... chanting almost. The glyphs on the walls are more frequent now, and the once dark red walls are now taking on a much darker blue color. Occassionally a memory plays in the dark blue around a rune.

Delia and Silvanemus sitting next to each other at a small lake.

Pes being held upside down by Silvanemus on a massive oak tree's branch a decent height above ground.

Trees splintering around the leviathan as it races towards the shoreline from the lake.

Silvanemus being eaten by the serpent.

"Yeah... I know the story already. Why are you showing me this?" Zyghart sighs and stops.

Delia dances on the serpent and slowly disappears into its flesh.

The runes on the wall begin to disappear and Silvanemus' head stops glowing. A deep blackness blankets the tunnel and Zyghart can feel the pressure of the water around him crushing him. The weight becomes too much and he lets out a scream.

SPLASH

Zyghart emerges from a blue rune into a crimson lit room housing the leviathan's enormous heart. Waves of energy pulsate with each beat of the monstrous organ and a blue gnome walks around the heart to greet the elf half-drowned on her floor. "For too long was I entranced with that horrible spell..." Delia's once deep blue eyes now have the same dull grey look to them as did Silvanemus'. Her hair is now completely grey, with few sky blue strands framing her face. "Though you have killed Silvanemus, you will not do the same to me." the old mage says in content and walks to the leviathan's beating heart.

Roland's son rolls to his side, spits up water and gasps for air. He sees Delia a stones throw away from the heart and asks, "What are you doing?" as her hands begin to smoke. Delia puts both hands in front of her and continues chanting. Still struggling to catch his breath, Zyghart stands to his feet. "If you do that, we'll both drown down here!" he screams at the mage.

Delia finishes her chant and a maelstrom of small fireballs assaults the heart. The organ immediately catches fire and beats wildly. "Who says we are still under water boy?" the gnome glares icily through ancient eyes at the elf. "The beast is panic stricken now, berserk. I have set it on the path to Sehaelas, they will pay for what they've done to me and my friends." The old mage walks to a mass of muscles creating a wall around the room and draws a large circle into the living wall. It burns brightly blue around the perimeter and an gigantic scale drops from the enormous leviathan. Zyghart can see beach screaming past the hole in the beast as it races crazily at Sehaelas.

Delia jumps through the hole and into freedom telling Zyghart as she leaves, "Do yourself a favor, steer clear of Sehaelas."

Recouperating a few moments later, Zyghart gathers his wits and jumps from the monster and into the open air over the beach.
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Joined: Posts: -19

II

The tide coming in laps agianst Zyghart's face, and he opens his eyes. "How long was I out?" he mumbles to himself and spits sand from his mouth. The elf sits up and scans his surroundings. The city lies a short trip to the south, its gates destroyed and armored corpses littering its entrance. Screaming and what can only be the roar of the leviathan echo across the beach from Sehaelas. "Father..." Zyghart whispers, and sprints at a brisk pace towards the city.

"Elf!" a woman's voice screams out from the treeline aside the beach. "Help me Elf! My daughter, she raced into Sehaelas after her father!"

Zyghart looks coldly at the voice and shouts, "Your troubles are your own woman, I've my own family to deal with!"

"But Marilythe, PLEASE! She's only 6 years old...." the woman's voice strains with emotion and Zyghart turns around.

His memory spins when he sees a middle-aged woman lying next to a tree, horribly wounded. A tree branch protrudes from her torso staining her green dress brown, bone stabs out of her left leg just beneath the knee cap and her right leg looks crushed. Deep auburn hair flows down the poor woman's shoulders, and strangely familiar blue eyes swell with tears at Zyghart's arrival. "M...Marilythe?" the elf stutters and stumbles to one knee next to her.

"Yes..." the woman whimpers in pain. "Marilythe, my daughter....please help her." she grimaces and lets out a small scream as a river of blood drips from the wound in her chest. "I am not long for this world sir...Please tell me you will help her!"

"This is a trade route child. I've ended the lives of many a man whose pockets swell with coin in this very spot."

"I told you we would meet again boy. Pray tell me what leads you this way before I end your life."

"Come boy! Afraid of a little ghost? I've a feeling you've got much worse things to come."

Memories of his brief time with Marilythe drift across his consciousness. "Its been 90 years! How is it you survived this long Marilythe? No human would look so young..."

"Please sir...." the woman coughs and blood sprays onto Zygharts chest. "Marilythe is my daughter.... she is named after her grandmother." She shivvers and continues, "I am...." her gorgeous blue eyes haze and become glassy, "...Elisha." She shudders and convulses grabbing Zyghart's left shoulder and passes in front of his eyes.

The elf's face remains emotionless, but his ember eyes flare with anger. "This damned city..." He stands to his feet and crosses Elisha's arms over her chest. "I will raze it to the ground." He closes her eyes and starts towards the city. "Woe be to those who might harm that child. I will find her and both our fathers. Wherever they may be..."

Zyghart reaches his father's old house just outside the city and is depressed to see it has fallen into disrepair. The stable has fallen in on itself, and once perfectly place boards now bow from the edges of the home from age. The windows on the front side have been boarded and Lutyre's symbol has been painted on the door. Zyghart looks out into his father's humble farmlot behind the home and spits on the ground. It has been burned black and the ground salted to prevent anything from growing. On the south end of the lot lies two tombstones. "Roland!" the elf screams and runs to the graves.

Here lies Roland the Zealot, damned of Lutyre

In cursed memorium of Zephyr, Whore of Ahandora

Roland's well worn longsword lies broken in half at the base of the tombstone and Zyghart reaches down to grab it. "I thought you were gone..." he sighs to himself. "I did not want to believe it. Enjoy your paradise father, may you rest forever there with mother."

"Touching...." An old voice says from behind Zyghart. "I knew you would show yourself again, KINSLAYER!" A visibly aged Spencer taps a magnificent claymore against his bloodied armor and steps toward Zyghart. "You have slain my son, caused the death of your father. One of my closest compatriots.... For that you will die by my blade. The beast in this holy city is evidence enough you are spawn from the very abyss!" Spencer makes the sign of Lutyre with his hand and spits on the ground. "Ask me about your father.... would you like to know how he died? Or what about your mother's daggers?" A sly smile creeps up one side of the knight's mouth. "What say you! Fight now? Or after I have humiliated you with divine knowledge!"

Disgust washes over Zyghart's face and images of his father temporarily blur his vision. "I will send you to meet your bigot deity old man... I do not need to know what atrocities destroyed my father." The old man and Zyghart stare defiantly at one another as the leviathan roars ferociously in the distance. Spencer drops his sword for a brief moment and Zyghart flings the broken piece of his father's sword through the air end over end at his opponents throat. A glimmer of light sparkles in Spencer's eyes and he leans forward into the projectile.

" Watch boy..." the old man snickers as the broken blade stops short of its target spinning in the air. "BEHOLD THE GLORY OF LUTYRE!" he screams as a blinding white light appears in front of Spencer. A holy rift appears with a loud boom and the blade whistles sharply through the air towards Zyghart. Roland's son grasps the hilt of his father's broken sword firmly between both hands and strikes the blade, sending it flying far into the distance.

"What trickery is it that a Paladin may use the skills of a Priest?" Zyghart yells to the old man.

Spencer drops his sword and it lands with a dull thud next to him. "It is time for a story boy. Would you listen?"

"Speak coward, may your story last longer than your spell. For when it falls, my father's broken blade will rest in your heart." Zyghart answers coldly.

"I would expect no less from her son. It is only by Lutyre's grace you received the blessing of not meeting Zephyr." Spencer motions for Zyghart to sit and the two men rest, warily staring at each other.

The wind carries the smell of blood and screams from Sehaelas as Spencer begins, "Once, long ago... in another lifetime there was a group of 4 friends bound by a common thread, but destined to destroy each other..."
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Joined: Posts: -19

Three of them had come to the orphanage the same year, though Zed had come many years later. It was a large house, imposing to a child and easily a mansion that would conjure up nightmares. The owner was a shrewd woman as most people are who run such a place... I can remember her black hair always pulled tightly back into a bun, pulling her eyes towards her ears and giving her the appearance of a demon. Her black eyes... Oh gods, those eyes. We called her the Punisher as soon as we were able to form words. Roland, Zed, Trista and myself found safety through companionship but it did little to combat the darkness of that place when it began bleeding out...

A scream from down the hall wakes Roland and Spencer. "Trista..." they say in unison and race out the door. Wicked laughter echoes through the hallways just barely audible and the two boys stop at her door. "Open the door Trista!" Roland shouts as he shakes the door in earnest.

"Step back Roland!" Spencer yells and slams his shoulder into the wooden door. Trista screams in horror inside the room as the boys assault the door. There is a thud from inside the room and the door opens slightly. Spencer is the first to stick his head through and Roland gasps as his friend is launched through the air and into the wall behind them.

Roland rears back and kicks the door open as Spencer rises to his feet. The laughter grows louder, Trista flies out the door at the boys and the door slams shut behind her. The wood of the door creaks and moves like water as an evil face emerges. Yellow eyes stare at the three children and a mouthful of splinters roars an unholy sound. Roland and Spencer tremble in fear and quickly rise to their feet with Trista on thier shoulders. Fingers poke through the wood as hands begin to form, and the children flee down the stairs to the Headmaster's office.

A dashing figure greets the trio on the first floor, clad in dark black leather and a silky black scarf dancing in the hot air disturbed by the red brick fireplace crackling behind him. He smiles upon seeing the children and his shadow made by the fireplace twitches strangely. The shadow grows behind the children and he greets them, "Hello children. What is it that has you so disturbed?" The shadow overcasting the children shrinks and seems to draw into the Headmaster's scarf somehow.

"Headmaster! I couldn't sleep and the door slammed shut and a ..."

"Trista was locked in her room and Spencer and I..."

"It was a demon! It threw Trista out of her room and..."

The firelight dims slightly as a cold breeze whips down the chimney. "Now children, how am I to understand all of you at once?" He waves his hand to them and continues, "Come, sit next to the fire and tell me what happened." Trista, Roland and Spencer rest next to the Headmaster and he places an arm on Roland's shoulder. "Now tell me once more son. Start from the beginning and describe this demon to me."

"I... I was asleep when I heard a scream." Roland looks at Spencer and continues, "Spencer awoke with me and we raced to see if it was Trista screaming."

Spencer interrupts Roland and says, "Her door was closed, and there was this sound..."

Spencer's eyes close and Roland continues, "It sounded like... like children laughing yet we knew everyone was asleep. We tried to wrestle the door open, but it wouldn't open!"

Trista stands and points upstairs. "That thing in there, it was NOT of this realm. I couldn't sleep because of a scratching under my bed and so I got up to see what it was." She draws in a deep breath and sits back down. "Upon first glance I saw nothing, save for the darkness beneath my bed. Seeing nothing there I climbed back into bed when I heard the whispers..." Trista buries her head in Spencer's chest and whimpers.

"The demon used her door to come into this realm! It was going to eat us!" Roland screams at the Headmaster.

"Now children, you are young still. Spencer you are the eldest, tell me... what is your age?" the Headmaster's scarf waves gently from the heat emenating from the fireplace.

"I... have seen 7 summers sir. Yet there has not been a single day where I was less afraid than I was today." Spencer says as he gently caresses the back of Trista's hair.

The Headmaster's brown eyes take on a troubled look, "Now Spencer how is that someone of your age daydreams so?" He grabs the boy's chin with a pale white hand and stares into his eyes. "Isn't it possible that you were all dreaming? Sleepwalking perhaps?"

Trista stands in defiance and shouts, "NO! It was there!"

Roland stands with Trista and places his arms around her, "It was! I saw it with my own eyes! There was no mistaking it, Spencer saw it and was even thrown into the wall by the beast!"

"So, you received a bump on the head Spencer?" the Headmaster inquires of the boy and he nods in acknowledgement. "We all know of Trista's magical gifts, perhaps all this was an illusion children?"

Spencer looks briefly at Roland and Trista and says, "Yes Headmaster, it must've been a dream. No creature like we saw tonight can be real, right Roland?"

Tears find there way into Roland's eyes and he hangs his head. "Aye, it truly must have been a dream."

Trista looks sadly at the Headmaster, "Please sir, allow me to sleep with Roland and Spencer tonight?"

"I will allow it for this evening children, but let this be the last time. For should you disturb me at this hour again, I will send you to see the Madame for punishment." the Headmaster's silk scarf falls to his side and he sends the children upstairs.

Little was said as we went upstairs to bed. We all slept in my bed, but after that night Trista would never be the same. Childhood has built in defense against such horror, and I would've completely buried that memory were it not for the years of horror that followed.
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Joined: Posts: -19

A ferocious roar followed by a loud crash in the city behind them prompts Spencer to rise to his feet and cut his story short. "I think the monster means to go after the temple now. Would you stab an old man in his back on the way to serve his deity?" the knight says cocking his head to one side.

Zyghart taps his father's broken sword on his leg and grabs a nearby pebble. "I've my own business to attend to in the city." Roland's son says and throws the pebble at his foe. A holy rift opens once again in front of the knight and deflects the pebble harmlessy to one side as Zyghart continues, "Rest assured, I will come and find you when my task is done."

"Do try and not get eaten by the monster, boy. I would not want to miss the opportunity to rend your troublesome head from your body." Spencer places two fingers to his lips and whistles loudly. A white stallion gallops from around the side of Roland's house and the knight deftly springs atop it. "I'll give you no quarter next we meet." the knight frowns and looks down at Zyghart sitting next to his parent's tombstones. "A shame I did not get to finish my story child. Your parents and I lived in dark times, yet we found the light within ourselves to destroy the monster that consumed us." Spencer points his sword at Roland and Zephyr's son and smiles, "There is still salvation for you, though your death be certain by this blade. Seek Lutyre, pray for forgiveness and you may yet still meet your parents in the afterlife." The knight kicks his mount sharply in the haunches and rides swiftly towards Sehaelas.

Zyghart stands between his parent's grave markers and stares into the distance at Sehaelas. The sun rests high above him, and a large shadow darts up and down over the walls surrounding the city. Memories temporarily wash away his vision and he is lost in thought.

"Have pity..."

"Worry not about me child, the people of this city and I have made treaty long ago."

"She knows.... Delia knows you're here now."

"Do yourself a favor, steer clear of Sehaelas."

"Please sir...Marilythe is my daughter.... she is named after her grandmother."

The sounds of hoofbeats grow fainter and Zyghart stares into the shadows of the two tombstones created by the midday sun. For a brief moment they waver and a cold breeze sends a lone black feather sailing past the elf's face. Zyghart reaches out and grasps the feather in one hand, "Ahandora..." Zephyr's son places a hand on his mother's marker and tucks the feather safely in the pants stolen off of Silvanemus' corpse. "Raveness, should you assist me in this final chapter of my parents life I pledge my life in your service. I will let loose the blood of the righteous in this realm..."

"Your mother chose a darker path than your father, and she ultimately paid the price for such blasphemy."

Do not heed the call of the Assassin.
Such is the path of the damned.

"You would defy our holy God?"

Clouds conceal the light of the sun and the caw of a raven shakes Zyghart to the present. The bird circles overhead momentarily and flies toward the city sounding for Zehpyr's son to follow. "Sehaelas..." The leviathan roars defiantly in the distance and the sun breaks free of the clouds. Shadows retreat from the light and begin to engulf Zyghart's feet. "Before this day is done, everyone in this city will know the names of my parents..." The broken sword in his hands starts to vibrate and the shadows surrounding his feet travel upwards into his hands. "What?" the elf says and looks in horror at the dark magic working it's way up his body. "What is this!"

Be calm son.
Your diligance and dedication to your parents is commendable.
I bestow upon you this gift, it will be but one of many in store...

A flurry of black feathers explode outwards from the blade and knocks Zyghart to the ground. A feminine voice whispers slyly inside the elf's head once more as the feathers fall slowly to the ground around him.

By taking this unholy blade, you proclaim yourself mine.
My kin, my blood and family for all time.
I will lend you my strength to avenge your parents...

Dark light washes over his father's broken blade and it glows eerily. The blade elongates and the broken sword transforms into something entirely different. It begins to glow red and hovers a short distance above the ground, as if the flames of the inferno threaten to consume it and Ahandora's voice continues.

And you will consume Lutyre and his city in the flames of my vengeance.

Zyghart rises to one knee and grabs the unholy blade of pure darkness firmly in one hand. "And after I am done, I will seek the trade of my mother." Zephyr's son pauses for a moment and stands, "Both of them." A night black stallion silently trots towards Zyghart from the very shadows themselves and Ahandora whispers to Zyghart one last time.

A final gift, go now and show Spencer how closely the strings of fate entwine our destinies.

The Yaldrarn Highway stretches in front of Zyghart as he rides past dozens of injured Sehaelas citizens fleeing the city. A young human boy paces nervously outside the city's stables and stops the elf just short of the decimated gates of Sehaelas. "Sir! A small fee to rest your steed in my stables?"

"Aye." Zyghart answers the child and dismounts his night black stallion. "But first I am in need of some information." he says and walks the stallion to the boy. "Tell me what you know of a young girl named Marilythe."

"Sir, all of the children in the Sehaelas have taken refuge in the city's heart." he ushers the steed into an empty spot directly next to Spencer's white stallion. "Every able bodied man has been summoned to the Halls of Justice to fight the monster with the High Priestess." The stable boy looks towards the city, "Were I but a few years older, I too would be fighting the monster as well." He closes the door in front of the black stallion and puts a hand out in front of him, "Though this be a perilous time, we all have our duties to fulfill. Two thousand coin sir, you'll not find a better price in all the realm."

A somber look crosses Zyghart's face as he stares into the boy's green eyes and draws his unholy blade. "Since you've already taken the liberty of performing service before being paid, I'll let you consider this a lesson learned. Every merchant knows to demand coin before service." Zyghart points the dark blade at the child and frowns, "You will hold my mount until I return, and you will also do me a favor if you value your life."

"But sir! Have you no honor? I am but a child!" the boy shouts as tears fill his eyes. "It seems I have no choice, what do you ask of me?"

"That white stallion in there..." Zyghart pauses for a moment's thought and continues, "Break it's legs."

The boy can not hold back the tears and begins bawling, "As...as you wish." He walks to the stable and mutters a command as Zyghart walks past the city's gates. A loud thud followed quickly by a pained, animalistic scream announces the elf's arrival into Sehaelas. Roland and Zephyr's son travels past enormous glimmering scales and smiles eerily at the body parts littering the main avenue of Sehaelas. Two humans, clad in silver platemail, guard the entrance to the heart of the city and Zyghart places his blade behind his back.

"Help me!" Zyghart shrieks. "The monster is after me!"

"Only children and the priests of Lutyre are allowed past this point, I suggest fleeing the city." one of the guards says and draws a magnificent claymore.

"Or maybe you would like to fight the monster like a man?" the other guard says and draws his claymore as well.

"Aye sir, but I've no weapon! It ate my parents and I would stop at nothing to avenge them." Zyghart cries while approaching the flank of the left guard.

"The priests here are blessing all those who wish to fight the monster. Wait here one moment and I'll retrieve some equipment as well." the right guard enters the spire and leaves his companion to guard the entrance alone.

"Should the High Priestess fail, what will you do?" Zyghart asks the remaining guard still cautiously holding his claymore.

"The High Priestess will not fail, why would you say such a thing?" the guard asks glaring icily at Zyghart.

"An ominous cloud rests over this city... surely you can see it." Zyghart says and points south of the city. "There, just south of the city..."

The guardian raises an eyebrow and turns his head to the south. "I don't see..." he starts as his foe sneaks up behind him.

"You will never see another cloud again, fool." Zyghart whispers with hatred into the guardian's ear as he rips his unholy blade viciously across the guardian's throat. The guardian's blood sprays from his wound and Zyghart drags the body north out of sight with the guardian still struggling to breathe. He drags one of the leviathan's large scales over to the dying guardian and drapes it over him, concealing the corpse. "Now to kill the Priest and the other guardian..." Zyghart says to himself and waits back at the entrance to the spire for the guardian to return.

A few moments pass and the guardian returns with a male priest wearing a white robe. "We've no more platemail for you to wear I'm afraid, but you should be able to salvage some from the battlefield." the guardian says and removes his claymore. "What happened to Crowley?" the guardian asks and scans the area.

Zyghart closely studies the priest and answers, "There was screaming to the north and he ran off."

"Why would he leave?" the guardian shakes his head. "He had implicit orders to stay here no matter what." He looks at the blood trailing off to the north and asks, "Blood? Where did this come from?" The priest remains silent and the guardian stares at Zyghart. "Answer me!" he shouts at Zyghart.

"I'm not sure..." Roland's son answers the guardian while backing up slowly. He places one hand on the blade hidden behind him and tenses as the guardian steps towards him. "You're sure that wasn't there before I got here?"

The guardian shakes his head in disbelief and the priest drops to one knee. "This blood is still wet, it is fresh." the priest states and rises to his feet. "There, on his tunic.... drops of blood!" the priest screams and runs inside the spire. A white light shoots from the heart of the city as the guardian bares his teeth at Zyghart.

"Crowley was my brother, tell me what you've done with him!" the guardian shouts at his brother's murderer.

"Come..." Zyghart growls and pulls his unholy blade of pure darkness into sight. "See if you fare better against this blade than your brother did."

The guardian rushes at Zyghart, mighty claymore in both hands and delivers a powerful upward slash at his foe's face. Crowley's doombringer jumps backward, narrowly missing the blow and thrusts his blade forward. The guardian's platemail dents and he kicks Zyghart to his back. "Now, you die murderer!" the guardian screams and swings his magnificent claymore through the air with a sharp whistle.

Zyghart grabs a handful of dust and rolls between the guardian's legs. "Missed!" the elf chuckles and throws the dirt at the guardian's face. The guardian screams in anger again and Zyghart jumps to his feet, sending a shoulder into the guardian's crotch. The guardian attempts to catch his breath, stumbling backwards and falling to his haunches under the overwhelming weight of his platemail armor. Zyghart slices horizontally and the guardian raises a hand defensively. The unholy blade severs fingers from the man's hand and is deflected from his throat up to his nose. The blade tears through the man's eye and sends it flying into the spire.

"SHIT!" the guardian screams and shuffles his way backwards towards the spire. "Somebody help me!" he shouts as a small group of guardians led by the white robed priest appear just in time. Shock wears off from the guardian's wound and he passes out against the wall of the spire, exhausted.

Outnumbered, Zyghart retreats towards the Avenue of Justice with the guardians chasing him. Clothed in much lighter armor, the elf easily escapes the guardians and doubles back around the spire to the eastern entrance. The doors to the heart of the city are closed, but no guardians are watching the entrance. "Idiots, they would send their whole squad after me?" Zyghart snickers and wastes no time in entering the city. The spire cries in alarm at the presence of evil at it's heart and he hastily follows the sound of children crying into a Holy Shrine of Lutyre just north of the heart of the city.

"Marilythe! Are any of you Marilythe?" Zyghart shouts at a large group of children being watched by a female human. "Answer me!"

The woman walks to Zyghart and places her hands on his shoulders. "She went chasing her father towards the Halls of Justice." the woman answers and frowns. "I fear she may have been lost in the battle." The sounds of metal boots on the marble of the spire's floor echo in from the south and Zyghart races out the northern exit. A few scales and many more corpses line the Avenue of Justice westward to the fountain.

Explosions and the roar of the leviathan deafen Zyghart as he reaches the once great Fountain of Justice. The crystal the fountain was hewn from is scattered across the ground and the fountain's water pools where the fountain once stood. Zyghart stares in amazement at the battle to the north of his location. A handful of knights attack the monster from the entrance to the Halls of Justice and the High Priestess' glimmering golden armbands shimmer in the sunlight as the leviathan towers above her. It strikes down at the High Priestess and is thrust aside as a flash of white light explodes a short distance from it's mark. It falls to it's side in the northern courtyard with a loud crash, and the knights rush in to strike the serpent. "Amazing..." Zyghart mutters in astonishment.

"There he is!" the white robed priest shouts as the angry group catch up to the elf and three guardians rush Zyghart. "Kill him!" The guardians fan out into a line as the sky overhead darkens and the priest shouts at Zyghart's assailants, "Watch out!" The warning comes a brief moment too late as the leviathan's tail crashes down on the guardians. The anguished screams of the guardians are cut short by the grinding sound of metal crushing against itself. The priest screams in horror as the leviathan lifts its tail in an effort to right itself. "I will kill you myself!" the priest begins chanting and the leviathan roars in fury lifting its head off the ground. The High Priestess finishes her spell and a small explosion of blood sends scales flying from the serpent raining down to the battlefield.

Zyghart recovers from the tremors caused by the enormous serpent falling and runs at the priest with blade in hand, dodging shimmering scales falling from the sky. Attempting to avoid shards of crystals between him and the priest, Zyghart stumbles and is sent flying to his back once more when a scale the size of a horse slams into him. The shower of scales strikes the priest as well and thrusts him to the ground. A crimson stain appears on the back of the priest's white robe and he groans in pain lying on his stomach. He coughs and a fine mist of blood sprays onto the green grass, staining it red. "Lutyre...save this city." he wheezes and coughs a final time.

A sharp pain in his thigh prompts Zyghart to assess his own injuries. Blood oozes from around a jagged piece of crystal the size of a quill piercing his leg. The injured elf steadies himself and painfully removes it with a scream. A warm sensation on his brow prompts him to wipe the perspiration from his forehead and Zyghart is rewarded with more blood staining his arm. Wounded, but not beaten Roland and Zephyr's son rises to his feet and watches as the knights guarding the Halls of Justice flee to the safety of the High Priestess' holy rift protecting the building. "When they attack the monster again, I'll sneak into the Halls and try and find Marilythe." Zyghart says to himself and waits for the High Priestess to finish her harm spell once again.

The leviathan bleeds from a series of wounds not quite encircling its body, but raining blackened blood onto the ground surrounding the Halls. It seems to sense its end is near and increases it's berserk assault on the building. The serpent's tail arcs through the air and stops just short of slamming into the base of the guardians guarding the Halls. The holy rift surrounding the building shimmers white briefly and the serpent's tail cracks like lightning against the rift once more. Much smaller scales erupt like a volcano from the tip of the monster's tail as the holy rift bends it at an unnatural angle. The leviathan hisses loudly and blood wells up from the wound. It strikes at the balcony where the High Priestess stands chanting, but the holy rift stops the serpent once again. A mist of blood sprays from another wound in the circle of successful strikes around the serpent's neck, and more scales rain down as the leviathan slams to the floor of Sehaelas once more.

The leviathan lays stunned on the ground and the guardians seize the opportunity again to sink their swords in the belly of the beast. "Now!" Zyghart exclaims to himself and darts down the length of the leviathan's tail leading towards the Halls of Justice. Using the unconscious monster as cover, he sneaks one last look before trying for the entrance. "Completely unaware..." Zyghart smiles to himself and hurries inside. An Emissary of the Baron of Tyr stands just inside the entrance staring out at the fight and shrieks at the bloodied elf running at him. He turns to run and screams an alarm, "Intruder! Someone save me!"

The black feather frees itself from his pockets, hovering in the air behind the elf and a strange sensation washes over Zyghart. He jumps onto the walls of the corridor and runs horizontally at the Emissary just as he reaches the stairs leading upwards. An unholy blade of pure darkness sparks against the wall behind him as he flings the blade through the air in front of him and jumps across to the other wall. The blade flies through the air without spinning and slices through both legs of the Emissary just below the knees. It strikes the stairs and ricochets upwards, striking the Emissary in the throat just as Zyghart springboards off the wall to deliver a flying kick into his foes back. The sound of metal boots on the marble floor of the Halls of Justice echo down from upstairs and a seductive voice whispers inside Zyghart's head.

Invoke the rune of false death, examine your blade carefully Zyghart.

The wild look fades from Zygharts eyes and he rips the unholy blade from the former Emissary's throat with animalistic force. Blood showers upon Zyghart and paints the walls as his foe's head tumbles down the stairs. Commotion from atop the stairs causes Zyghart to search for the rune on his weapon frantically, and he activates it just in time to see Spencer at the top of the stairs. Suddenly, Zyghart finds himself looking down at his corpse and that of the Emissary covered in blood. He watches as Spencer surveys the situation puzzled and kicks Zyghart's corpse.

Confusion washes over Spencer's face and he bends down to place a hand above Zyghart's mouth. "He's not breathing..." the old knight says to himself and delivers a sharp blow to the elf's kidney. "Still no response." Spencer makes the sign of Lutyre in front of him and closes Zyghart's glassy eyes. "I am sorry it had to end this way Roland, may you embrace each other warmly in the afterlife." He folds Zyghart's arms over his chest and retreats back upstairs, visibly saddened.

Strange whispers and echoes begin to fill Zyghart's mind, spirits long gone beckoning him to the underworld. His vision begins to grey and shadows seems to dance on the boundaries of his sight. One shadow takes the form of an Icarri before him, a strange creature with legs of a bird and a humanoid body. It moves erratically up and down the stairs with impossible speed, stopping periodically to look at the Emissary's blood sprayed on the walls. A shiver runs down Zyghart's spine as he realizes what the shadow is doing. "Is it eating the blood?" he asks himself.

The Icarri stops abruptly and flicks its gaze upon Zyghart. Crimson, starving eyes stare at Zyghart and a familiar voice booms in his mind.

You have done well to make it inside these Halls.

The Icarri's visage shifts, and a breathtakingly gorgeous woman stands in front of him. Black raven's feathers comprise an enticingly short dress that leaves little to the imagination, and even less to hide. She has porcelain white skin and black curls as dark as the void that pour down her face, over her shoulders and stop just short of meeting the top of her dress. Her bosom heaves, almost escaping its feathery prison and calculating crimson eyes look Zyghart up and down. A sly smile creeps up one side of her face and she slinks over to Zyghart with a seductively exaggerated swing of her hips. Ahandora holds the elf spellbound as she leads him to his lifeless body. She brings him to his knees next to his body, and leans in to whisper into his ears.

Take care my chosen, those who hide in this place too long find it hard to return to the realm of the living.

More Icarri begin to fill the bottom floor of the Halls of Justice, but Zyghart can do nothing but stare into the seductress' chest inches from his face.

Go now, upstairs awaits this final chapter in your parents' story. Serve me well, and honor their memory.

The Icarri swarm upon the Emissary's corpse just as Zyghart's vision of undeath fades. Ahandora's eyes catch his gaze one last time, and Zephyr's son regains consciousness at the base of the stairs. He hears a door slam shut in the distance and cautiously sneaks up the stairs. Zyghart reaches the second floor door and cracks open the door in an attempt to spy into the next room. It creaks in protest, causing Zyghart to wince in pain. "Clear..." he says to himself and sneaks across a thick, dark rug into the room.

The High Priestess stands out on the balcony to the east, in deep concentration as she chants the old words to an ancient spell. To the north the sounds of a child crying echo through a waiting room outside of a functional office. "Is that Marilythe?" the elf questions the walls of the Halls. He proceeds north into the oaken waiting room and looks closely at two doors, one to the north and the other to the east. Spencer's voice can be heard from the eastern room, and Zyghart presses his ear to the door.

"Quit fighting child!" Spencer shouts in frustration.

"No! Let me go!" the young girl screams in defiance. "She's killing me!"

"All you have to do is sit there until she has defeated the monster. Lutyre will surely not allow one such as yourself to perish. Trust in the light child." Spencer says in an attempt to comfort the girl.

"I don't want to die!" the young girl sobs.

"Fine, have it your way. This armor is getting in the way, once I remove it I'll be able to restrain you indefinitely." The sounds of metal scratching against metal ends with a loud CLANG on the floor. The door rattles in front of Zyghart and the doorknob clicks back and forth. "Too bad child, these doors are locked. You'll not be getting out of the Chamber of Truth that easily." Spencer says with a little chuckle.

"No armor!" Zyghart says in excitement and attempts to pick the door. The lock refuses to budge and Zyghart hears womens' voices in the room to the north. He watches the doorknob on the northern door turn slowly and he quickly jumps behind the door as it opens outwards. A handmaiden dressed in silver leggings and a golden tunic waves to someone in the next room. She turns to leave and she shuts the door behind her, completely oblivious to Zyghart crouching flat against the wall behind the door. He quickly stands and paces the handmaiden's every step back to the stairs.

As if she suddenly remembered something, the handmaiden stops abruptly and spins towards Zyghart. The stealthy elf grasps his unholy blade firmly between his hands and rolls to the handmaiden's flank. The heavy rug dampens the sound of his equipment striking the floor and Zyghart decides in an instant to sweep the woman. His long leg glides across the carpet and sends the handmaiden flying forward onto her face. She briefly shouts out in surprise, but is quickly silenced by her assasilant's knee pressing the back of her head into the carpet. "Silence maiden, answer but a few of my questions and you may yet live." Zyghart snarls into the woman's ear.

"What is it you want?" the maiden whispers and attempts to reach for a crystal dagger at her hip. Zyghart watches as the handmaiden grabs the dagger and he cruelly slams the hilt of his unholy blade into the maiden's wrist. Her pained scream is muffled by the carpet, "What! What do you want from me?" She begins to cry, "You broke my hand, you bastard!"

Zyghart grabs the maiden's dagger and stabs downward into maiden's hand, pinning it to the floor beneath the rug. "Marilythe..." He thumps the dagger sticking up from the woman's hand and she shrieks in pain, "Is that the girl in the room with Spencer?"

'Nuh...no." The handmaiden shudders and whimpers beneath Zyghart's knee. "Marilythe and her father were among the first to be slaughter by the monster." she begins bawling and continues, "I knew her mother well, but I could do nothing to stop the beast when it descended upon the children fleeing the Halls." She regains some composure and turns her head to look up at Zyghart. "Spencer wanted the children to stay here as long as possible for some ritual!" Rage floods the handmaiden's face, "Its his fault the children died, I'm sure of it! The High Priestess would surely have had the foresight to evacuate the children much earlier."

Zyghart releases some pressure on the handmaiden's neck and viciously pulls the dagger out of the woman's hand, sending a golden ring rolling across the floor towards the stairs. "I have nothing left to save in this city, the only reason I let you live now is the possibility you may be able to draw Spencer from the room." He spins the handmaiden over and helps her to her feet. "If you want to live, and you wish retribution, open the door to the Chamber of Truth holding Spencer and his captive." The handmaiden sobs and nods in agreement. "You must lock the door behind me, and not interfere or I will slay every person in this city."

The handmaiden gasps, "Demon, I will do as you say under one condition."

Zyghart raises an eyebrow inquisitively and snickers, "I believe you are in no condition to bargain, but proceed woman."

"Do not kill the High Priestess, she is entranced by Spencer and is only doing this to protect the city." Tears well up in her eyes as Zyghart stands before her silent, hands walking up and down his unholy blade. "Please, I implore you! I am sure this is Spencer's doing!"

"Done. Now open the door." he says coldly and pushes the woman towards the door to the Chamber of Truth. "I'm keeping this by the way, it will suit me well in this fight." Zyghart says sheathing the crystal dagger at his hip.

The handmaiden fumbles trying to pull a key from her pocket with her broken hand and winces in pain. She reaches in with her left hand and unlocks the door. "Open it." Zyghart orders the maiden and she dutifully responds. The handmaiden steps forward into an immaculate white marble room, shining in contrast to the green carpeted room behind her to the west.

Spencer stands over a white marble altar, clothed in a cotton chemise and leather shorts. A blue haired gnomish child lays motionless on the altar, glowing with a pale white light. Zyghart crouches low behind the handmaiden, carefully pacing each step and concealing his presence. Spencer's eyes are closed and he mouths silent words, no doubt intoning some ancient and silent magic. Dozens of small white runes, the size of acorns, dance around Spencer's tightly clasped hands at his chest and journey down to the gnomish child lying on the altar. Zyghart pulls the door to a close behind him, and it creaks loudly.

"WHAT IS IT!" Spencer's eyes open and he shouts at the handmaiden . "This is very delicate magic, leave at once!" The white runes fizzle out and begin to disappear as the handmaiden leaves the room. Zyghart crawls under the old knight's line of sight and hides against the opposite side of the altar in front of Spencer. The handmaiden nods to Zyghart, closes the door behind her and locks it with an audible click. Spencer waves a hand dismissively at the door and focuses his concentration back on the altar. "Pesty handmaidens, always trying to flee in here at the slightest risk of danger." he mumbles to himself and begins chanting once more. The white runes begin to dance from his hands once more, and Zyghart decides to seize the opportunity.

"Hello..." the old knight's foe growls and slices through the air at Spencer's legs with an unholy blade. Spencer looks down carelessly at the elf hiding at his feet, and laughs when the blow is deflected by holy rift. "Bastard!" Zyghart shouts and somersaults backwards to his feet, sliding on the balls of his heels into the door behind him. The knight steps away from the altar with a smirk, and motions for Zyghart to try again. "Die!" Zyghart screams and throws the crystal dagger sheathed at his hip sailing at Spencer. The dagger is deflected near his face and Roland's son attempts to sweep the old knight to his back, but is sent sliding across the floor again.

Spencer grabs the crystal dagger lying next to the gnomish girl on the altar and slides it across the floor to Zyghart. "I am very happy to see you alive, if only that I may put your existance to an end by my own hand." The knight crosses his arms in front of him and looks at the girl asleep on the altar, "Trista would see the irony in this situation. She willingly participated in this same ritual a lifetime ago to save your mother from a fatal wound inflicted by your father." Zyghart rises to his feet and attempts another assault on Spencer. He throws a hard right hook, but the old knight can see it coming and stops it with swift kick to the elf's crotch.

"Ooof..." Zyghart cries and falls to his knees in pain. Spencer disarms the elf and places his weapons on the altar. "Give.... me..." Zyghart attempts to speak, but is knocked senseless by a haymaker punch to the side of his head. He stumbles to the west side of the room dazed and falls to his haunches with his hands holding the right side of his face.

"You have much of your mother in you to have snuck inside these Halls." Spencer watches Zyghart gather his wits and casually walks over to him. "You'll not be able to harm my Zyghart... This child powers the holy rift that protects the Halls of Justice, the High Priestess and me." He chuckles and kicks Zyghart sharply in the ribs, causing him to cough up blood. "A shame she cannot protect herself..." Spencer states and slams an elbow downward into the base of Zyghart's neck. Roland and Zephyr's son collapses in pain on the floor, and desperately tries to retain consciousness. "So, boy, would you kill an innocent child and risk that monster slaughtering everyone in this town to simply settle a score with me?"

"I..." Zyghart starts and pushes himself up the wall. "...don't care." he says and Spencer knees him squarely in the jaw. Blood pools inside Zyghart's mouth and he spits it at Spencer's face, only to be knocked to the floor again by a sharp elbow to the top of his head. Spencer kicks Zyghart repeatedly in the ribs and the elf can stay awake no longer, finally passing out after a hard kick to the side of the head. Spencer walks back to the elf's blades sitting on the altar and grabs the unholy blade with a look of disgust on his face. The blade shimmers and glows eerily in the holy light of the Chamber of Truth.

"Let... me....go." the gnomish girl whimpers weakly and tries to roll off the altar. Spencer shakes his head in silence and begins chanting again. The white runes materialize quickly as a loud crash is heard from outside, rocking the entire Halls of Justice. The white runes dance down his clasped hands, but stop at the hilt of the unholy blade. A dull red glow begins to fill the tip of the blade and white runes begin to pool at the hilt. Spencer furrows his brow and sweat beads up at his temples as he deepens his resolve and concentrates harder.

"Lutyre, destroy this blade..." He mutters to himself and continues chanting. The white runes entirely cover Spencer's hands and begin to cloud around his body. The dull red glow at the tip of the blade grows deeper and the unholy blade begins humming. The sound awakens Zyghart, but he is exhausted and racked with pain; only able to watch helplessly as Spencer attempts to destroy the blade. A dark shadow forms at the old knight's feet and the sound of wing's fluttering echo faintly in the chamber. "Now, with holy intent and faith bound by determination..." The red glow burns brightly and Spencer finishes, "I send this blade back to the underworld!"

The blade begins smoldering and with Spencer's last words a fireball explodes from the unholy blade and consumes the gnomish child in front of him. "NO!" Spencer cries and drops the blade into the shadows at his feet. "How did this happen?" he screams and the shadows begin to move around the sword. A shimmer in the light surrounding Spencer signals the end of his holy rift, and two crimson eyes appear in the shadows growing larger on the floor of the chamber. "Ahandora!!" Spencer screams in fear and runs for his armor on the northern side of the room.

The shadows reach Zyghart struggling to breath against the western wall, and blackness engulfs Zygharts crimson eyes. "Now you pay for all you've done!" Zygharts shouts with renewed energy and lunges forward at the unholy blade floating in the darkness of the shadows next to the altar. The smell of burnt flesh and hair fill the room, and the gnomish girl somehow manages to let out a final cry before falling to the floor of the chamber in front of Zyghart. With no remorse, Zyghart uses the girl's body as a step on jumps onto the marble altar. "SPENCER!" he exclaims in rage.

The old knight only manages to slip into his breastplate before Zyghart descends upon him. "It won't be that easy fool!" Spencer says and utters a chant that sends the marble altar in the middle of the room flying at Zyghart's head. A single black feather rises behind Zyghart and slams into the altar with amazing speed, shattering it into a cloud of marble pieces that pierce Zyghart and Spencer. White shards stick out of his arms and chest, but Zyghart's black eyes seeth with hatred as he stands over Spencer lying motionless on the floor. "Its finally over..." he says staring at a large chunk of marble protruding from Spencer's face. His rage not abated, nor his bloodthirst quenched, Zyghart kicks the marble out of Spencer's face splattering blood across the white walls of the chamber.

The shadows on the floor of the chamber begin to fade and a voice echoes as Zyghart slides the unholy blade across Spencer's neck, severing his head.

You succeeded and are to be rewarded. Go to Kelrath, and begin the path that will most please me. Merchants will rule this realm once more!

Zyghart's eyes regain their crimson hue and the High Priestess stumbles, visibily weakend into the Chamber of Truth. "The monster is dead.... What?" She asks in disbelief at the scene in the room, "Handmaidens! We are under attack!" Blood pours from the dozens of pieces of marble sticking from Zyghart's flesh and the smoldering remains of the gnomish girl begins to cloud the room. His blade glows red and becomes warm in his hand as Zyghart reaches the balcony. He turns back to see handmaidens and platemail clad knights filling the room behind him. The blade burns and Ahandora's voice fills Zyghart's mind again.

Do it.

Zyghart swings the unholy blade in front of him, sending an enormous fireball hurtling through air at his assailants and jumps off the balcony.

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