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An Epic Fantasy
“Blood.” Is all they heard him say before Tyrus rushed away from the group.
“Tyrus!” Darec yelled after him, drawing the attention of unwanted eyes. They all watched as Tyrus leapt from the street to the wall of the nearest house to get over the small barricade of shocked guards blocking the gates to the castle grounds.
Baelor swallowed as his eyes follow the boy, watching the cloaked and shadowed figure quickly move across the courtyard to the stables at the front of the castle.
Alce smiled as he exposed his now glowing hands. Guards surrounded them now and Evergreen was smiling ready for some excitement as her blade now pulsed with whatever power Alce touched it with. Zeph and Rane readied their own weapons without a word said. Daynel pressed her face into Baelor’s back, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the small form that was running across the balconies. He watched her spin and fall, his heart catching, as he knew that something had hit her. He could hear her scream as she somehow caused the balcony to explode. His eyes catch the slight movement of the quick moving shadow that was Tyrus. The boy moved up the wall as if he was nothing more than a wraith. Baelore said a prayer to all gods listening to his heart. ‘Let the boy reach her, please.’
Tyrus ignored the frightened whinnying of the horses below him as he reached the roof of the stables. Her blood sang to him, it sang of hate, and anger. He urged his body to change a little more, increasing his agility and strength, as he knew he was going to need it. He was fighting hard to restrain his own anger as he saw how bloodied she was. He started, as her body seemed to have gained a mind of its own as she suddenly stood from her previous slumped position. Until he realized she's casted another spell. Tyrus kept still as the spell sent men flying over the railing to certain injury if not death. The wind still howling when she let loose a scream that cut at him. The next spell reminding him of her state of mind when she was thirteen. He watched the wheel of flames spinning crazily in the air before her, prior to crashing into what looked to be the dining hall. He finally inched forward as she sluggishly turned around and dragged herself over the railing. She couldn’t take anymore. Then he remembered that he was more than likely a strange sight to behold. His heart stopped for a second. Would she attack him? He sensed her sudden rise of fear as she finally noticed him finally. He listened to her rapid breathing and erratic heartbeat, the amount of blood that trailed back the way she came alarmed him. She was drunk with exhaustion. What had they done to her? Why was she in this condition? He observed her pregnant pause while she studied him cautiously and then she did something strange. She lifted her head to smell the air and shuddered.
“Tyrus?” Her eyes took on a wild look a smile growing across her face. “Tyrus!” she shrieked hysterically. She started toward him only to stumble and nearly fall off the narrow ledge she was forcing her way across.
“Tirrin!” He yelled frightened. He was too close to retrieving her for her to simply fall now. “Stay wherrre you arre!” She wouldn’t make it to him.
The world was slowly spinning around her; her heart was beating so loud in her ears she couldn’t think. Tirin pressed herself flat against the wall. Somehow she had made it over the balcony railing, but she didn’t remember climbing it. She laughed suddenly, Tyrus was here, or was he just her imagination? She didn’t care, this madness would soon be over.
The ledge crumbled a bit as she started to inch toward him. She gave a small shriek pressing her back to the wall.
“Do not move!” he growled.
She stiffened. “It really is you.”
He focused on her face; the smell of her tears was sharp at first before mingling in with the scent of her blood.
“I-I thought you had …thought you were angry with me….so angry.” She sobbed pitifully. “Thought you never wanted …”
“Shh.” He made sure of his footing before moving. “Never.” He rushed across the ledge. Mere inches away from her he felt a sudden joy as he stretched his hand out and she reached for him.
His threatening smile failed as a meaty ‘thunk’ silenced her. Her eyes widen in shock before her hand fell back to her side. His insides felt as if they were being wrenched free of his body as he saw the arrow now lodged in her chest.
A sharp mournful howl caused Baelor to pull his eyes away from their fighting. The old Imperial watched as Tyrus’ cloaked form rushed past them and the attacking guards. Frighteningly fast the boy lept from the wall to the rooves and disappeared into the night. His heart knew something was wrong. He swallowed.
“Time to go.” He nudged Daynel behind him trying to keep her in the center of the group as she whimpered.
Zeph and Rane kept the guards at bay with ease. Arcs of light flew from Alce’s fingertips while he laughed maniacally. “She let loose some serious spells.”
Darec found himself frozen in his spot as he watched Tyrus vanish into the night.
Evergreen nudged him calling his attention back to their situation before sending three guards flying with a guttural yell. The elves paused when they finally heard Daynel hysterically chanting. The red head bent, she touched the flat of her palm to the ground.
The mage smiled knowingly, “I knew you were making ---!”
The gathering guards pulled back as the ground beneath the Elves feet was suddenly etched in fiery markings before the intruders disappeared in a flash of red flames.
Gar almost laughed aloud as the spell ignited a few of the surrounding buildings. The caster was a novice; the recall spell could have easily destroyed this whole section of the city.
He silently turned and headed back to his own horse. Gar was heading back to the castle to retrieve Tirin by force; a wicked smile played on his lips. Surprised and a little disappointed to see the small elven rescue party here. They hadn’t forgotten about her as she thought. He had arrived too late not thinking that Sayer would make his move so soon on the girl. The excitement had been going on for over an hour by the time he returned, all he could do was watch and assist a little bit. Deflecting the arrows was easy, somewhat, weighing them down so that their numbers dwindled drastically to the stray one or two that may have hit her instead of the original twenty. The last arrow almost hit its intended mark. He was distracted when the strange elf came into play. That strange elf startled him with his wraith-like movements. Gar looked back at the smoldering section of the city where Tirin’s rescuers had been. He raised a brow in curiosity at the gathered abilities. This generation of elves seemed to have become more…unique in talent. There were two magyk users, one was a wyld mage and the other a pyromancer. And then there was the wraith…that wasn’t a wraith. Gar could swear that he had been normal when he was with the group but his body…changed. Interesting.
But the one that interested him the most was a face he didn’t think he would see again, at least not alive. This face was the reason for Gar’s charade for the last 80 years. Baelor Desgjin. What was Tirin’s connection with the imperial guard? He rubbed his chin, he would find out eventually. Tirin had something he wanted.
“--- a glyph!” Alce finished when the flames died.
The tree she had been scratching on before they made their way into Kiten now stood in the center of the group. An area, ten feet in diameter around the tree was now nothing but ash.
Alce smiled as he touched what used to be a tree. “But you need more practice… I can…hm.” His blood red eyes turn to an amused yellow as he saw that the prissy elf has passed out in Rane’s arms.
“Tyrus!” Baelor began shouting. “Tyrus!”
Alce’s smile faded as a long desolate howl answered his call. He immediately knew the girl had to be hurt. They followed quickly as Baelor ran toward the howl, heading back toward Kiten.
With his heart in his throat, Baelor called again. “Tyrus?”
All of them rushed toward the strange gravelly voice and all but Baelor, Alce and Evergreen paused when they reached him.
Tyrus stood away from Tirin’s motionless form.
He was not in wolf guise. Darec and Daynel looked at each other and then back at Tyrus new form. They didn’t know whether to be shocked or very afraid at what stood before them. Tyrus’ cloak was hid all but the evil rapier like claws that held his cloak tight about him. He had gotten at least two feet taller; his new form hunched and threatening. His legs were angled wrong as he moved nervously further back. His enlarged violet eyes glinted apprehensively from the darkness of his cowl, feeling their uneasiness at his appearance.
“Rrremoved arr-rrows.” Tyrus growled out.
Alce bent down next to Tirin, a slight smile appearing as the girl he remembered from childhood somehow retained that defiant pout even on her more grown up face. He touched the wounds and couldn’t help but to be impressed with Tyrus’ skill even with the wicked claws he was sporting now. The hairs on Alce’s neck actually rose as a sound he never thought he would live to hear gradually became louder.
The older elf was crying. Alce found he couldn’t look at Sire Baelor as he took in the damage to his daughter’s body. “Oh, Cattea…”
Tirin was in bad shape. Her earth brown skin was ashen and dozens of cuts and gashes covered her legs and arms. The worse of them still weeping bright red blood. Her feet were horrific, colored glass was deeply embedded in the tender flesh, darkly coated in a mixture of dirt and blood.
Alce moved to kneel next to Baelor his crying tapering as he caressesed his daughter’s face.
The young mage took Baelor’s hand and placed it on Tirin. “Picture her the way she was before all this.”
Baelor closed his eyes.
Alce lied next to Tirin, interlacing his fingers with hers. He got comfortable on the ground feeling the curious eyes of everyone else.
“Don’t touch me until…I’m done.” He closed his eyes.
“Ahlce.” Evergreen moved closer.
“I’ll be okay.” He opened his cerulean orbs at her reassuring her with a smiling gaze before closing his eyes again.
Baelor watched as the young mage slowed his breathing, inhaling through his nose and slowly exhaling through his mouth. For a moment Baelor thought the boy had gone to sleep until Alce’s eyes snap open revealing nothing but a soft white glow.
The sensation was immediate and the old imperial almost pulled away when the feeling encompassed him. It surged through his daughter and up his arm.
“Can’t we move ---?” Darec started and then stopped when he saw Alce's glowing eyes. He looked up from him to see Tyrus melt into the shadows of the waning night.
Did he always have such control over his transformations? He continued to gaze at where Tyrus had been standing recalling how Tyrus had partially transformed back in Kiten. How was he still standing on two legs when most of his life saw him on four? Darec pulled at his lower lip thoughtfully. Tyrus’ change had come on quickly as well, frighteningly fast. He had never watched him change, always curious about what happened when he did. Did it hurt? He walked toward Zeph ignoring Rane, as the younger guard seemed too preoccupied with the limp form of Daynel now.
“Horses.” The Young Lord said frankly. “Apparently this will be camp.”