Thread: Raven (Vampires, Werewolves, Demons, Angels!)

OMGz

Yay Keenar and Galahad meet! It's all starting to come together! I'm getting really excited now, it's like I know what's coming but yet have no idea what's going to happen... keep it up! =D>

Might have to post this bit in two parts...I don't want to have to separate it but it's far too long for just one post...Sorry if you get tired of reading all this at once on screen...

Chapter 9 continued...

The next day their fears were realised. A guard came and lead them up the stairs into the most lavishly decorated house they had ever seen. The ceilings were high and the rooms broad, fountains bubbling in the centres and all was spotlessly clean. Gazing in wonder, the two men were pushed into the great hall where a torrent of noise met their ears.

The room was colossal in size and was built like some sort of arena. Rich men and women sat on tiered steps that surrounded a large pool of water, and all began talking loudly as Lanec and Galahad stepped into the room.

“At last! The slaves have arrived!”

The deep commanding voice belonged to a man dressed in lavish dark robes and was sitting comfortably in a balcony seat overlooking the pool. Galahad realised that this must be Rakos. He had a snake-like appearance about him and long sharp nails on his bony hands.

His spirit gave a leap as he saw Keenar standing beside her master holding a silver platter of fruit. Her almond eyes locked with Galahad’s and the sorrow he saw in them made his heart ache.

“Prepare the prisoners,” ordered Rakos. Galahad felt a guard give him a shove and his eyes were torn away from Keenar’s. He and Lanec were taken to the edge of the pool and stood on opposite sides. The crowd had fallen silent and, looking down, he could see something on the floor of the pool. It looked like some sort of miniature maze. But before he could get a proper look, Rakos gave the command and Galahad felt himself being pushed forwards.

The water came rushing up at him but, instead of feeling the cold splash of liquid, he felt himself hit hard stone floor. Confused, he looked about him. Walls; nothing but hard grey walls on either side of him in the shadows. Fear began to grow in his chest. The maze…he and Lanec have been pushed into the maze…

Galahad looked up expecting to see the shimmering barrier of water above him and the leering faces of spectators, but there was only darkness. His heart was beating fast now and the silence pressed in on him. Taking a deep breath he took a step forward. He had no choice but to find a way out of this absurd game.

Wandering down the passageway, he came to his first junction. Which way should he turn? To the right there was a faint light; to the left, nothing but darkness. He immediately chose the right. The light began to grow stronger and seemed to flicker as if a fire was casting it. Increasing his stride, he rounded a corner and felt a blast of heat that threw him back. Shielding his face with his arms, he sought the source of the light. When he realised what it was he gasped.

A fire elemental was trampling towards him, a great fist already swinging down to crush Galahad’s bones. A cry of horror escaped Galahad’s lips as he rolled left and heard the stone floor cracking from the impact. With the agility of a cat he sprang to his feet and instinctively reached for the Gift within him, searching for words of water and quenching, but with a jolt of horror he realised that he could not reach the magic. The bracelet tight around his wrist glowed maliciously up at him.

Cursing, he threw himself forward to avoid another blow from the fire elemental and rolled into a dimly lit chamber. Frantically he looked around for some sort of weapon with which to defend himself and almost cried out with relief as he spied a sword clutched in the hand of a statue.

He ran to the stone figure and squeezed the hand holding the sword. It crumbled away easily to his werewolf strength and he grasped the weapon tightly. The elemental was now closing and Galahad raised the dusty sword, ready to fight. The fire beast was not daunted and swung another burning fist at his victim. Galahad fell to one knee, avoiding the flames, and swept his sword forwards. The blade came into contact with the back of the beast’s legs – it sank through the fire and hit the black rocky core with a crack. The impact jarred Galahad’s arms but he kept the momentum and sliced across the back of its knees with the deafening screech of metal upon molten stone.

The elemental roared with fury and slammed its fist forward at Galahad who barely managed to raise his sword to protect his face. The force threw him into the air and he landed on his feet, sweat pouring down his skin. Again and again he slashed at the creature but the sword did not seem to be having an effect. His muscles were beginning to ache and he could smell burned hair.

Glancing around the room desperately he noticed that there were several cracked and misused urns lying about. Hope flickered somewhere inside him and he made to run towards one when suddenly the elemental roared and a column of flames erupted from its gaping mouth. Galahad dived out of the way but not before his shirt caught fire. It burned right through the material to his skin and he cried out as he ripped it from him. Ignoring the pain he found himself next to one of the clay urns and smashed it frantically.

This time he did cry out with relief. There, amongst the broken shards, glowing a bright blue and white, was an ice arrow. He snatched it up feverishly and began breaking all the other vessels collecting as many arrows as he could while evading his pursuer. At last, as the elemental bore down on him, Galahad found the bow. But just as he fitted an arrow to the string, he felt flaming hands grasp his waist. The pain of his burning flesh seared through him and he felt himself being thrown through the air once more. Concentrating as hard as he could, he twisted and pointed the bow at the creature as he fell and released the arrow moments before he hit the ground.

Galahad rolled onto his feet and immediately began firing arrow after arrow in quick succession at the beast. It was roaring in pain now, doubled up in agony as the ice pierced its molten flesh. Galahad felt no mercy. His assault was relentless. As the sixth arrow sank into the fire elemental’s open mouth it gave an ear splitting cry and its fire immediately extinguished, the rocky core falling and shattering upon the ground as it died.

Galahad’s heart hammered inside his chest; never before had he faced anything like this. He sank to the floor and rested briefly, staring at the remnants of the elemental. He suddenly thought of Lanec and got to his feet again. Whatever else was in this maze Lanec was facing it alone. He did not even have Galahad’s strength or keen senses to help him.

But he is a good fighter and has a sharp mind. He will be alright.

Nonetheless, they’d be safer together so Galahad picked up the bow and sword, and collected all the remaining arrows he could find. Taking a deep breath and keeping his senses on alert, he pushed forward once more.

Every corner he turned was a frightening suspense, never knowing what beast or manner of sorcery he would meet. But the passages were deserted and the silence was starting to press in on him in the darkness. Panic was bubbling just beneath the surface and his breathing sounded fast and shallow to his ears.

Just when he thought he was about to go mad from every passage looking the same, like some never-ending nightmare, Galahad came to a door. Placing an ear to the wood, he listened hard. Nothing. Either the room beyond was empty, or something was lying in wait for him. Grasping the handle, he turned it as silently as possible and slowly pushed the door open.

The room was empty but for a lone figure lying on the floor. Galahad stopped dead and the sword nearly fell from his grasp.

“No...”

The figure was Lanec. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was sleeping but for the pool of blood spread about him. His chest was not moving.

Galahad stepped forward, a look of utter horror on his face.

“Lanec?”

He did not stir. Galahad reached his friend’s side and kneeled beside Lanec’s prone body.

He cannot be dead…he can’t be…

He reached out a hand to touch Lanec’s face, but the moment it came into contact with the cold skin, Galahad gave a gasp. Slowly he looked down and saw three blades sticking out of his chest. Blood…his blood, was running down the metal that seemed to have burst out of Lanec’s body. But it was not Lanec any more. The face had changed shape so that two bulging eyes were staring up at him and the mouth was stretched into a grotesque grin. Comprehension dawned in Galahad’s eyes but too late.

The shape-shifter retracted its blades and a spurt of Galahad’s blood came with them.

“Once again,” it said in a dry rasp as it watched Galahad double over in pain, gasping and groaning as precious blood flowed onto the floor, “an unsuspecting slave falls to the Morphling!” It gave a laugh that was distorted by its leering mouth.

Galahad tightened his grip on the sword and gritted his teeth against the pain and dizziness.

“I’ve not fallen yet.” And he brought the blade crashing down onto the Morphling’s deformed face. Its brown blood splashed over the floor to mix with Galahad’s and the laughter was abruptly silenced.

Chapter 9 continued...

Galahad cursed as he crawled away from the mess. His wounds were not healing as fast as they were supposed to and he was losing a lot of blood. One of the blades had pierced his heart and the pain had been excruciating, but though it was already beating strong again he still feared he could die if the wounds did not close fast enough.

He came to another door and dragged himself onto his feet. Immediately the world spun about him and he fell against the wood, grasping the handle for support.

If there’s anything dangerous through here I’m dead.

But it was either go back the way he came or carry on through this lone door. He could be so close to escape! Gasping for air and losing his footing slightly, he pushed open the door. What he saw made him fall to his knees again in despair.

A water elemental regarded him interestedly. When she made no move to attack him he felt a shred of hope return.

“Do you know what it is I am guarding?” she said.

Galahad focused his eyes past the shimmering blue creature and saw a vial full of a sparkling liquid upon a pedestal. It shone with many colours and it seemed to give off its own white light. Galahad would have laughed if it would not have hurt. He felt a brief thanks to Rakos for giving the slaves some sort of chance in this absurd game, but it was gone the minute he thought it.

“It is a healing potion,” he said almost inaudibly. His head was pounding now and he could feel his senses slipping in and out of focus.

The water elemental smiled.

“And you may have it. All you have to do is answer a simple riddle. Get it right, and you live on. But get it wrong, and I shall kill you. Understand?”

Galahad nodded weakly. The elemental’s smile widened.

“What does man love more than life?

Fear more than death or mortal strife?
What do the poor have, the rich require,
And what contented men desire?
What does the miser spend, the spendthrift save,
And all men carry to their graves?”

Galahad’s mind was reeling but he focused on her words. The answer came to him so suddenly that he thought it surely must be wrong.

“Nothing,” he whispered. The elemental’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“What did you say?”

“The answer,” he said hoarsely “is Nothing.”

To his utter relief the water elemental bowed and disappeared with a shimmer of up-falling rain, revealing a clear path to the pedestal and the healing potion. With his limbs feeling as heavy as lead, and blood pumping from his wounds from the movement, Galahad crawled up the few steps to the pedestal. Coughing blood out of his lungs, his fingers closed around the crystal vial. His hands shook as he tried to remove the cork, accidentally cracking the neck of the bottle and cutting his lips as he tipped the liquid down his burning throat.

Falling back against the steps, he lay there as he felt a kind of euphoria sweep through his body and banish the pain. The flow of blood stopped, the wounds knitted together to form scabs and a little strength began to course through his veins once more.

Galahad got shakily to his feet and took up his sword and bow again. One more mouthful resided in the vial and he re-corked the broken bottle neck as best he could and slipped it into his pocket.

Keep going…it is all you can do. Just keep going…find Lanec and get out of here.

But Galahad could not help thinking, what if there was no way out? What if they were meant to stay here for as long as it took for them to die? The thought was not a comforting one.

He strode on and soon saw a flickering light ahead of him once more. Was it another fire elemental? Drawing the bow and nocking an arrow to the string, he crept forwards. Rounding the corner he found himself in a large chamber lit with numerous torches in brackets. In the midst of this chamber was a large dark pool, the water so still that it looked like a mirror.

Would this be the way out? If he jumped in, would he be transported to the surface? Or would he be eaten by some huge beast that dwelled in the black waters? Throwing caution to the winds, he drew the arrow back and fired it into the murky depths.

For a moment nothing happened. Then suddenly four long tentacles erupted out of the water and whipped towards him. Galahad did not pause to swear but turned on his heel and ran full force for the door. Something cold and wet wrapped around his leg and he fell, dropping the bow as he struck the floor. Drawing his sword, he hacked at the tentacle with all his might, but suddenly there were more of them wrapping themselves around his arms, around his other leg... With a mighty pull they lifted him struggling and slashing into the air, then plunged back into the pool taking Galahad with them.

The icy water hit him like a thousand needles all over his body and he was momentarily stunned. The tentacles were tightening their grip and he bit his lip to keep himself from crying out and losing precious air. Being what he was, he knew he could hold his breath for close to an hour, but he knew that whatever he was fighting down here was not intending to let him live that long.

Sure enough, out of the gloomy depths, a hideous mouth rose up to greet him. It was big enough to swallow him whole but Galahad, with a heart stopping wrench, could not help but notice the rows and rows of long sharp teeth. Panic started to surface and Galahad slashed at the tentacles binding him more and more frantically but they would not relinquish their hold on him.

At the last moment when the creature’s head was level with Galahad, the tentacles released him and the dagger-like teeth came slicing down to sever his flesh. In a burst of desperation, Galahad thrust his sword upwards and felt it sink into the soft roof of the monster’s mouth, some of the long teeth driving into his arms. The creature roared and tried to pull away but Galahad held on and thrust the sword in deeper, ignoring the pain as the movement caused the teeth to slide further into his arms. At last he wrenched it out and saw the beast sink back into the dark depths of the pool, the water turning red around him with his own blood.

Not waiting for it to return, he swam to the surface and hauled himself out of the icy water. His arms were in agony but the wounds had already stopped bleeding and he ignored them as he strode to the next passage, eager to be rid of this place of Hell.

He came to a corner of the maze and stopped. Something was just around the bend breathing hard. He felt chilled to the bone and was shaking violently, still dripping from the pool, but he gripped his sword as quietly as possible and took a deep breath. Drawing on his courage he swung round the corner and levelled his sword at the figure’s throat. Just at that same moment, the figure had chosen to do the same and Galahad found his own throat at blade tip.

It was Lanec. The two men stared at each other, one dripping wet and shaking with cold, and one pale and white, shaking with fear. Neither of them lowered their swords.

“Galahad? Is that you?” Lanec’s voice was trembling.

“It is,” he said, surprised to find his own voice unsteady. “But how can I be sure that you are Lanec?”

Lanec looked paler, even sick. His sword hand dropped a notch.

“I…I made you those boots when we went travelling…” Without warning his sword clattered to the floor and his legs crumpled. Galahad rushed forwards and caught his friend as he sank to the floor.

“What happened?” whispered Galahad, suddenly afraid.

“Giant spiders…” He felt Lanec’s body shudder. “Got bitten…there was an antidote… couldn’t answer the riddle. There are elementals in here… And goblins…bands of angry goblins…”

As Lanec murmured on, Galahad fumbled in his pockets for the last of the healing potion.

Please let it still be there…please…don’t let it have smashed…

His fingers closed around the cold smooth glass of the vial and he breathed again. It was not meant for poisons but at least Lanec, instead of dying, would only feel sick.

“Here, drink this,” he said as he drew out the cork with numb fingers and brought the vial to Lanec’s lips. Lanec drank it thankfully and his body stopped shaking. A little colour returned to his face and he was able to sit up without Galahad supporting him.

“Come on,” he said, struggling to his feet. “We need to find a way out of here.” Galahad nodded and followed his friend.

It was not long before they came to a door neither of them had been through. Clutching their scavenged weapons, they pushed it open together. The hall that was beyond the door was immense and, shimmering at the far end, was a portal. It was unmistakeable from its yellow bands of light that spiralled up from the floor and the two men were sure that this was the portal that brought them to the surface and out of this infernal dungeon. The only problem was the horde of animated corpses standing in their way.

“Zombies,” said Lanec fearfully. “We’ll have to fight through them.”

Galahad nodded but didn’t say a word.

“What happens if you get bitten by one?”

“You bleed.”

The corpses were standing still, their rotting flesh hanging off their bones as they watched the two men. Galahad raised his sword, narrowed his eyes, and walked purposefully towards the yellow light of the portal, Lanec by his side. The moment his feet entered the room, the corpses burst to life and rushed at the pair, jellied limbs squelching and bones rattling. Swinging their swords, Galahad and Lanec cut a path through the dead.

The stench made Galahad feel physically sick as he severed limb after limb. All around him was putrefying flesh, eyeballs rolling out of sockets, arms hanging by mere shreds of muscle, the crack of bone upon twisted bone…. grotesque faces grinned at him, even as the heads rolled across the floor, every direction he looked. Fear and panic began to grip him and numb his mind, adding to his already numb body. They kept on coming, more and more, closer and closer as they surrounded the two living souls in the hall. Soon they were fighting out of bare desperation as claws tore at their skin and teeth bit into their flesh. It was chaos. It was a nightmare. Galahad was soaked in a cold sweat as horror after horror reached out for him with skeletal hands; mouths open in silent screams spewing blood. His feet kept slipping on the carpet of gore beneath him and the crack of shattering bones and squish of flesh was too much to bear for his finely tuned senses.

Just as Galahad thought that they would be overwhelmed, paralysed with fear and eaten alive, the portal suddenly appeared by his side and he almost wept with relief. Grasping Lanec by the arm and giving one last defiant swing at the corpses, he summoned the last of his strength and jumped through the swirling bands of light.

Bright light stung his eyes and a torrent of cheering battered his ears as Galahad re-appeared at the pool’s edge in Lord Rakos’ manor. Exhausted, beaten, and still filled with the horrors he had so narrowly escaped, he sank to the floor shaking. He did not care that people were watching him, or that tears were falling down his bloodless cheeks. He was alive.

Lanec was kneeling beside him, his face buried in his hands. After reappearing, he had fallen onto his knees and thrown up. Galahad reached over and grasped his shoulder.

Rakos was saying something but the words did not register in his mind, and then hands were grabbing him and roughly dragging him out of the room. Soon he was shoved back onto the floor and he vaguely recognised the cell he had found himself in just hours before although it seemed days ago now.

He heard Lanec being pushed into the cell with him but he did not open his eyes; he couldn’t. He just lay where they’d dropped him and felt the heavy blanket of sleep smothering him, the darkness closing in until, blissfully, he saw nothing, heard nothing, and felt nothing.

Oh, very intense!! And you said that you couldn't write action, pfft. Doesn't sound like much fun for poor Galahad or Lanec but they're tough, right? I like the whole detailed world you're creating and all the creepy stuff in it!

I'm in the process of writing a proper letter to you.

x

Very exciting, very well written, very thrilling action, very gory scenes, very creepy characters making me want to read very much more.

Chapter Ten! Chapter Ten! Chapter Ten!

...or are we still on chapter nine

AMAZING MORE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter Ten! Chapter Ten! Chapter Ten!

...or are we still on chapter nine

LOL!!! Hahahahahahahahaha! hee hee... ah, still on Chapter 9, bub. We got a looong way to go! Sorry I just found that insanely funny, I don't know why. Must be tired. Had a long day of lectures and science practicals and now I'm sitting in the computer room waiting for my Chinese Lesson that starts at 6...until 8! Then I have to cycle home in the ice and snow and dark and...I'll shut up now...

Yes I'm tired, what's your point?!

hey if i can ask what course r u taking????

Environmental Science. It's....ok I suppose. I mean...I feel quite strongly about human tearing up the world and destroying everything and killing each other and eventually killing the planet and therefore themselves and...I shall stop rambling now. But it's true and Humans are incredibly incredibly STUPID!!! Why does every person in power have to be STUPID????!!!!!

Calming down...

I'm just trying to do my part. Climate change...why soil and trees and...things that aren't man-made are so important...animals...nature...how we really SHOULD be moving on to renewable resources and stop tearing up the world for oil and coal...humans are just one big problem. We grow and spawn and spawn and spawn and spawn like an infestation of fleas lice yuckiness cancer worms EVERYTHING!!!!! AND DESTROY WHATEVER IT IS WE'RE LIVING ON!

Writing is good. Reading is good. Movies are good. Escapism is very very very good right now....

I'm not crazy really...just bored and tired...but don't you worry about that. Be happy! Read! Write! Watch movies! Be with friends! Friends are good.

Originally Posted by Rynash

hey if i can ask what course r u taking????

After the way she was laughing I would've said a mental course

Originally Posted by Akroma

We grow and spawn and spawn and spawn and spawn like an infestation of fleas lice yuckiness cancer worms EVERYTHING!!!!! AND DESTROY WHATEVER IT IS WE'RE LIVING ON!

I see what you're saying, we have to kill everyone

Wasnt this how Hitler started

Just messing Akroma, be careful on that ice

I just read the prologue can i have to say, that was brilliant. Im automatically hooked. I'd definently read on after that prologue. I'm going to read the later chapters when i have time and post my feedback. But from what i just read, its going to be an amazing story.

Chapter 9 continued...

Galahad awoke slowly to the sound of a voice. It was a woman’s voice quiet and smooth, almost a whisper. He felt something soft being wrapped around his arm and tender fingers upon his skin. Keeping his eyes closed and his breathing steady he listened to the voice and realised, with a shiver that was not unpleasant, that it was Keenar. How had she got into the cell? Was he dreaming?

But as he felt her soothing hands upon him he did not care. All he wanted to do was lie there with his eyes closed feeling her body close to his and listening to what she was saying.

“…and I could not believe it when you stepped into that portal and appeared. Both of you! No one has ever played the game and survived…until you…Galahad.”

Another tremor ran down his spine.

“Rakos was pleased. You put up a good fight and passed all the challenges. The quick deaths and poor fighting from the previous slaves was becoming tiresome for him and his guests.” She sounded bitter. “Why? Why does he insist on these gruesome games? You know what he will do? He will create maze after maze for you to entertain him with until…until…” She paused and he heard a stifled sob. “I’ve seen all the slaves die in his absurd game. Too many of them and I don’t know how many more I can stand to watch. But always he wants me there…wants me beside him. I do not think I can bear to watch you again. When the Morphling caught you in its trap I thought…I thought you were dead also…”

Galahad could feel her hands shaking and hot tears falling upon his chest and his heart ached for her. He wanted to reach out and hold her, to comfort her. Never before had he felt like this – so impulsive and protective.

Slowly he opened his eyes. She was kneeling on the floor beside him, her face buried in her hands. Sitting up, he reached out a hand and gently touched her shoulder. Keenar gasped and looked at him with wide eyes.

“I thought you were asleep!”

Galahad said nothing but looked intently into her eyes, concern evident in his features. He drew closer to her and tenderly brushed a tear away with his thumb. He felt her heartbeat quicken at his touch.

“I am not going to die,” he whispered. “We will find a way out of here and escape this mad sorcerer. We are not going to die like rats in a cage. I won’t let that happen.”

They were so close now that he could feel the heat of her body, the air being exchanged between them. He saw her eyes slowly close and he did the same, a feeling of euphoria sweeping through him as their lips brushed softly, and then melded. A flame of desire kindled inside him then ignited his whole body as he held her close, her tender lips caressing him, her tongue brushing tantalisingly against his.

The kiss seemed to last an eternity. When they broke apart she no longer had tears falling down her face and a new light had come to life in her eyes. No words were passed between them and they looked at each other for a long moment until Galahad said, without breaking eye contact,

“How did you get in here?”

Keenar looked down at her lap where several bandages lay with a bucket of warm water and a bloodied cloth.

“Rakos requested I bind your wounds. He wants you back in fighting order for the next games. Not that your wounds needed binding but…” she faltered with a loss of what to say.

“I heal very quickly,” he said, afraid of where this conversation may lead. He did not want to see that look of horror on her face as he saw on Lanec’s when he revealed his true nature.

He looked towards his brother and found him sleeping fitfully not far away. Keenar had cleaned the blood from his skin and bound his wounds but, Galahad realised with a pang, that his complexion was still a little pale and sickly.

Lanec twitched and a moan escaped his lips. Galahad moved to his side and placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder.

“All is well, we are safe,” he whispered, lying to calm his friend. Lanec stopped mumbling and lay still, his breathing becoming deep and steady. Galahad sighed. Nightmares were going to become a regular part of sleep from now on. He looked up at Keenar but she did not meet his eyes.

“I know what you are,” she whispered suddenly. Galahad stiffened.

“I do not know what you are talking about,” he lied. Keenar ignored his remark.

“When they brought you in, the slave trader handed Rakos two swords…” Galahad’s heart missed a beat. “I have only seen swords like that once in my lifetime. Very few humans know about them…or are granted permission to wield them. Only those in the service of Hsaru see weapons such as these.” She looked at Galahad who kept his face impassive though his heart was beating hard. Keenar continued.

“Rakos has no idea what they are. He has hung them up in his rooms because he likes the shape of them, but cannot see the hint of red…the swords do not light up for him. He does not know who you are.

“I, on the other hand, was born of an Elf mother and we, as with the dwarves and a select few humans, use these same weapons to fight against the threat of Naberus.” Galahad involuntarily flinched at the word. He knew what she was saying was true. He was a fool not to have guessed that she, being half Elf, would not recognise the swords.

“You are not an Elf,” she said. “Nor a Dwarf. Are you one of the few humans that know? One of the few that realise all these elementals and beasts and creatures that plague the earth and which Rakos summons are all from a different plane of existence and made by Vorrac himself? I do not think that even Rakos truly understands what he is doing.

“But when I saw you in that arena, you moved too fast and were too strong to be a mere human. If you did not wear that bracelet disrupting your Gift I would have thought otherwise. But even without magic you survived, Lanec too. You must have taught him much. But still he was slower, weaker; had you not found him he would not have got through that sea of corpses.

“So what were you? The only other species’ that fought alongside us – Vampires and Werewolves. You are not a Vampire that is evident enough, which leaves one last option.”

Galahad was defeated. He could not lie to her, not when she knew she was telling the truth. A bitter taste was in his mouth and he stared at the floor.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I am a Werewolf. Now are you satisfied? Now you know the truth you can fear me like every other human in existence, or feel disgust with what I am, or even run to your Lord Rakos and tell him he has a Werewolf living in his dungeons.”

To his surprise he felt Keenar draw close and raise his head with a gentle hand so that their eyes locked.

“You forget,” she whispered, hurt in her eyes. “I am Half-Elf. I know what you truly are and that your hearts are pure. Humans know you only as creatures of darkness and fear; creatures of murder that must be killed quickly.” She drew closer so that their lips were barely touching and whispered, “But they are blind, and I am not human.” Galahad’s thoughts were obliterated as he felt her lips against his once more, firm, yet at the same time soft and yielding.

“I was always fascinated as a child,” said Keenar breathlessly as Galahad held her, “with Werewolves. When I was very small I witnessed my mother talking to one. He was so…handsome and strong; every girl’s dream. But he was also kind and…and noble…My mother told me many things about your race.”

“What did you think of our thirst for human blood?” Galahad asked a little bitterly. Keenar fixed him with a serious gaze and held it for a while.

“It is how you are made. I do not begrudge the Hawk for eating the rat.”

“And what about that beast with the many tentacles that almost ate me? It was how he was made.”

Keenar nodded. “He was made by an evil God with ill intentions, whereas you were made by Hsaru, and his intentions are always good.”

Galahad could not believe his ears. The woman of his dreams was in his arms and kissing his lips and for one blissful moment he forgot where he was and who they were. Then Keenar pulled away from him and regarded him for a moment.

“How do you satisfy your craving for blood? You are locked in a cell.”

Galahad shook his head.

“I am only twenty years of age. I have yet to gain the ability of changing my shape and the thirst for blood. When the time does come, my Mother once said that the changes will be uncontrolled – that I have to bind my will to the change. I also have to learn to control the lust for blood so I do not go biting anyone who crosses my path.” He shivered. “To be truthful it is not a time I am looking forward to. But that is a thing I will deal with when it comes. Let us hope that I will be far away from this place when it does.”

The sound of footsteps suddenly broke the conversation and Keenar jumped up and hastily collected her bucket and bandages. The door to the dungeons opened with a bang and a guard came down the stairs holding a bunch of keys.

“Are you finished?” he asked Keenar.

“Yes,” she answered. “I am done with these men.”

The guard nodded and unlocked the door, allowed Keenar to step out, then locked it again. She began to make her way up the steps when the guard said,

“Lord Rakos would like to see you in his chambers.” Galahad noticed a look of fear pass fleetingly over Keenar’s face but then it was gone.

“I will attend to him once I dispose of these,” she said, indicating the bucket and cloths in her hands. The guard nodded and followed her up the stairs and shut the door.

Galahad was gripping the bars hard, the knuckles going white. He’d heard the subtle tremor in her voice, the way she tried to hide the shaking in her hands. What did Rakos do to her that made her so afraid of him? Many thoughts ran through his mind, all of them making the anger bubble up inside him stronger and stronger. He looked at the bars of the cell but not even he could break them. Frustrated he sat down beside Lanec and waited for what was to become of them next.

The day passed them by and there was nothing to do but sit or pace in the cell. Lanec awoke and they talked for a while but hours later they could think of nothing to say and sat in a mutual silence. There was only one small window high up the wall that let in little light, and Galahad wondered if he would ever see the sun again.

At one point the dungeon door opened and his heart leapt at the thought of Keenar, but it was only a cleaning slave come to empty the chamber pot in the corner of the cell. It was just as well because Lanec had thrown up twice again and it was starting to smell bad.

Night fell and Lanec had managed to fall asleep but Galahad sat with his back to the wall wide awake. He could not stop thinking of Keenar. Where was she now? What had Rakos wanted with her?

He looked to his brother who was once more twitching in his sleep, his breathing irregular. Galahad sat beside him and rested a hand on Lanec’s arm, suddenly feeling how cold it was. He was thinking on Keenar so much that he failed to notice his own body growing numb. Cursing the cold stone floor and lack of any blankets, he tried to rub some warmth into his friend, concerned that the cold was doing nothing to improve his illness.

Hours passed and Galahad’s eyelids began to grow heavy. He too was shivering now and he wondered how Lanec could sleep at all. Suddenly he heard the sound of a door creak open and the light of a candle flickered into sight. His heart beat fast as he realised it was Keenar and he got stiffly to his feet, running to clasp her hands through the bars.

“Galahad you’re freezing,” she gasped as they made contact. “And your lips are blue! Here, I brought you some blankets.” She bent to push them through the bars but Galahad did not let go of her hands.

“Why are you hiding your face behind your hair?” he said softly. Keenar stiffened.

“It’s nothing,” she said.

Galahad reached out a hand and gently brushed her hair back. His heart stopped beating.

“Gods, how did this happen?” he whispered.

A large bruise was forming on one of her delicate cheekbones. Upon the other cheek were long deep cuts. Galahad saw an image of a bony hand with long nails hitting Keenar’s beautiful face and he felt white hot rage surge through him. Her lower lip was even bleeding from evident teeth marks. He swallowed hard and clenched his fists to stop himself shaking.

“Rakos,” he growled.

Keenar nodded and a solitary tear rolled down her face. He embraced her as best he could through the bars and gritted his teeth as he felt her back slick with blood from the claw marks.

“Keenar,” he whispered her name. He wished he could take her far from here, take all of her pain away, kill the man that did this to her; kill Rakos. He felt helpless locked in this cell, able to do nothing.

“I must go,” she said finally.

Galahad nodded but he hated himself when his hands left her bruised body. He didn’t know what to say. All of a sudden he had lost his voice again. Keenar turned to leave.

“Keep warm,” she said. “And look after Lanec.”

Galahad nodded and watched Keenar disappear into the darkness, a heavy weight in his chest. He bent and picked up the blankets. They were old and rough but warm and he pulled one over Lanec then wrapped one about himself.

We have to get out of here he thought. But as the night wore on, he could think of nothing that would help them escape and soon he fell into a troubled sleep where women were being raped by corpses then thrown into pools where they were eaten by creatures with gaping mouths and teeth as long as knives.

Chapter Nine! Chapter Nine! Chapter Nine! hehe. I'm glad their feelings are growing stronger, I fear for Lanec though with death comes great material. Poor Keenar, cant wait to see what happens next

Absoloutly fantastic need MORE MORE MORE!!!!!!

Aww...i hate seeing Keenar all vulnerable and scared, make her strong already, pleeeeeeeeeeeease! You're doing great building up their relationship and their feelings.
Got a bit of a thing against rats today though haven't we? Lol, as usual, looking forward to the next installment!