¤ Lycanthrope

‘Don’t go!’ Silver cried again, but Brandon was already long gone from the landing. Turning back to where the Sack was, she stared up in terror at the towering figure that stood there now, hunched awkwardly under the domed roof of the warding barrier. It stood frozen on the spot on its two hind legs, its pointed wolf face screwed up against the sudden brightness that stabbed painfully at its sensitive eyes. Silvery fur the colour of hoary frost covered its muscular torso and powerful limbs, but did not grow over the numerous old scars that criss-crossed its body, pale reminders of bloody fights from long ago.

Whether it be rivals of its own species or human adventurers hunting its hide for fame and fortune, none of this Lycanthrope’s opponents had ever walked away victorious from those fights. None of them, that is, except for that one party of adventurers that had not only walked away undefeated, but had also (shame of all shame!) carried away as a trophy the Lycanthrope itself, bound and imprisoned in a Summoning Sack.

Even as the senses of the half-wolf creature scrambled to get used to its new surroundings, the memories of its final defeat came flooding back to it. It remembered the furious chase, the chance entrapment, and that desperate clash of claw and steel that had exploded one cold morning in the snowy wilderness of El Nath. It remembered how a brawny human male kept harrying it towards a dead end amongst the bare stone cliffs, stabbing and slashing at it with a long bladed weapon.

It remembered how this opponent never seemed to tire; for every wound that he opened in the Lycanthrope’s hide, the Lycanthrope had dealt one slash and more back unto him. Yet while the creature’s wounds bleed freely, the human’s injuries disappeared almost instantly, flashes of strange green light sealing them up bare seconds after they opened.

The beast had been aware of another human male in flimsy robes standing behind his attacker, mouth moving furiously to speak in the foreign human tongue. His weak human hands carried a long sticklike object that was infused with the same strange green lights that kept healing its attacker.

Although maddened with battle rage, the Lycanthrope retained a large degree of sentient thought, a gift of the dark magics that had created its species in the days before El Nath was a snowy wasteland. In a flash, the creature recognised that if the other human male were to be gotten rid of, its attacker would have an advantage no longer.

It lashed out quickly with vicious claws at its attacker, making him dive out of the way to avoid a fatal crushing blow to the head. However, this move also left his companion unprotected. The second human male’s eyes widened at the sight of the Lycanthrope loping up upon him and he stayed stunned on the spot, like any mindless prey would in the face of oncoming doom. Sensing victory close at hand (or would it be paw?), the Lycanthrope roared, rearing up and raising one heavily clawed paw to dash its harasser’s brains out across the ground!

But that victory never came. A barrage of four golden arrows zipped through the cold air to pierce its paw, knocking it out of its descent and making the Lycanthrope snatch its shredded paw back in enraged pain. A salvo of four more golden arrows sped through the air and buried their barbed heads into the tender hide over the Lycanthrope’s throat, forcing the beast to stumble backwards. Turning around, it cast around for the one that dared to steal its triumph!

The Lycanthrope’s back now turned to him, the second human male finally unfroze and quickly started to chant the spell that would bind and imprison the creature in its to-be prison. Rapidly, the magic took hold of the beast and the snowy grounds around it fell away to be replaced by the crushing blackness of the Sack…

But it was not before the beast had caught sight of its triumph’s thief.

Yes, it remembered its defeat and the one that had brought it about. Shaking its head, the Lycanthrope snarled to itself now, bringing up one badly mangled paw to its pointed muzzle. It remembered its downfall, and no, that must not happen again!

The beast raised its head to sniff the air, picking up a scent. A delicious warm-blooded scent that was distinctively human, frightened… and very, very nearby. Its sharp ears pricked at a soft, sobbing sound, making it direct its beady stare down to see the small girl that crouched terrified at its feet.

Silver’s panic doubled, and she froze as she saw the creature look down at her. Oh heavens, what, what, what to do! She cast around wildly for her War Bow and finally spotted it lying at the foot of the wall, a couple of feet too far away.

Willing her legs to move, Silver edged towards her bow, not daring to make any sudden moves. One, two, many painfully slow steps, and there! She practically cried in relief as her fingers finally closed around the sturdy handle of the stocky bow. She had not needed to worry though; the Lycanthrope only watched her progress across the small space coolly, with all the confidence of the predator watching the last desperate movements of a trapped prey with nowhere to go.

With badly shaking hands, she groped at the mouth of the quiver on her back to draw out one of the arrows there, and tried to nock it onto the bowstring, her own traitorous mind screaming at her to see how feeble this defence was against a gigantic monster like that! But she never looked away from the beast before her, an enthralment part nervous vigilance and part morbid fascination making it impossible to turn away.

Then, to her further horror, the Lycanthrope took one step forward.

Blind panic slammed with dizzying force into Silver, and she jerked her War Bow up instinctively, drawing the bowstring back.

It all happened in one split second. The Lycanthrope saw its little human prey raise the strange curved weapon, and immediately, a vision of another human female flashed through its animal mind, a similar curved weapon raised before herself, the chilly wilderness of El Nath ranging all around her. The human female in that vision lowered her golden bow and threw back her head to laugh, a barking sound that made the Lycanthrope’s ears twitch even across the span of so many years.

Enraged, the beast roared and its long claws slid out of their sheathes, razor-sharp and lethal. No, it must not happen again!

Silver barely had time to release the arrow loaded on her bow before the Lycanthrope’s cruel claws came bearing down on her to smash into her side, tearing apart flesh and splintering bone in one hot explosion of pain. The sheer force of the blow sent her flying back to crash into the wall, sliding down to sprawl in a heap on her uninjured side.

The Lycanthrope misjudged its second strike in its rage and its claws smashed into the wall, coming to a halt inches above Silver, raining splinters down onto the girl. However, with shock and pain slowing down her reflexes, Silver was too weak to take advantage of the few precious seconds of grace. Blackness at the edges of her vision crept ever closer, and she fought it back.

She must escape! She willed herself to sit up, but her right arm collapsed under her even as she pushed against the floor feebly; she could feel her robes stick to her skin as the blood poured from her shattered arm to soak the green material…

…Why did no one ever tell her how hot real blood really was?

With one final howl, the beast yanked its paw out from the deep slashes gorged into the wood, and raised it to strike again at the hapless girl at its feet!

Pain, pain so excruciating that it took away all the breath she needed to scream out. Choking in her own blood, she tried to take in more air, but every breath hurt like someone was pouring hellfire down her throat, the burning so intense… perhaps if she tried not to breathe, all the pain would go away…?

Now that’s one thought.

Wait a minute, is that heaven?

’Be gone, foul beast!’

What do you mean, where? There, that flare of heavenly light right over there. Pretty.

A loud howl, abruptly cut off.

Is this what happens when you die? You know, all that mumbo jumbo about a tunnel of light that you are supposed to head towards? Funny, I always thought it was crap.

’Don’t fall asleep, Silver! Wake up!’

Maybe I’ll die? But I don’t really want to die, not now. Dying is good, something muttered in her head, dying means no more pain, right?

’Good heavens! Is that Silver?!’

Why does Rei sound so scared?

’Don’t just stand there, boy! Get the clerics!’

Clerics…? But I don’t need them, Grendel. See, the hurt is going away now.

’Grendel? The boy was too distraught to tell me- Oh heavens. Team, get her to the clerics’ wing, and fast!’

Dying isn’t that bad, Silver decided in the end as unconsciousness came to sweep her away on soothing black wings. But it would have been better, if it could also take away that hurt in her heart from knowing that for all his promises, Brandon had abandoned her in the very end.

——————————————————————-
Next chapter: link

Links to previous chapters:
link link link link link link link link link link link
link link link link link link link link link link link
link link link link link link link link link link link
link link link link link link link link link link link
link link link link link link link

Ach. I apologise for the crappiness. This part of the story was meant to be edited to death before posting. But I’m afraid I have long used up the stamina for that. (How I would kill to get the copy on my flash drive back.) I know my grammar is all screwed up in the Lycanthrope’s flashback and the last part was pure un-inspiration.

I blame my tuition kiddos; they ate my brains up.

See the little splutter of life before SilverFx dives right back into the Internetless World. Farewell, interconnected world. *waves*

M&M Cookies for thee, dear reader who puts up with my bad writing~ You don’t deserve this post.