Pronunciations: some may be easy, but I'll post anyway.
Gunther: Gun-ther.
Brinog: Brin-og.
Gladrial: Glad-ree-al.
Galmora: Gal-mora.
Danis: Dan-is (not is, it's more like a snake sound. Sssss)
Mujardin: Moo-jar-din.
Naveen: Nav-een (Like in scene)
Ludac: Loo-dack.
Murdok: Pronounced like Murdoch.
Romolus: Roam-o-lus (Like in lust)
A Tale Of A Half Cast
Prologue:
I don’t remember anything of my mother and father, I never knew them. She was killed for combining the species; she was put to death because of me.
My father was a leader of the Vampire race and my mother was an Elven mistress.
They fell in love and had a child, me.
I was the first hybrid in history, so naturally no one knew what to expect. In the eyes of the Elven leaders, I was an abomination. But to everyone else, I was a genetic marvel.
I had the attributes of two immortals combined, more power than any regular being could harness.
My mother was burned at the stake by her own people. But my father wasn’t harmed; Vampires wouldn’t execute one of their own. So he remained untouched, until the Bloods came.
The Bloods were a horde of evil creatures. They had tainted the land ever since their arrival. No one knew where they came from, or why. Some say they were spat out of the abyss, too evil to even linger there.
Before the Bloods came, the three tribes lived in peace, Humans, Vampires and Elves.
They pillaged the Vampire city, and massacred the whole race. They attacked in the dead of night, with an army of thousands. The Vampires were unprepared and were slaughtered quickly.
The Humans, being mortal, fortified their city and turned to the Elves for assistance in defending themselves.
The Elves agreed and allied with the Humans. But the Elves didn’t need to move anywhere; they were perfectly safe in their fortress.
My mother left me in the great Elven forest, days away from any civilisation. The trees and creatures that lurked there raised me and taught me to live off the land.
Now, a full century after the Bloods arrival, they have abruptly ceased their attacks. So now I will return to my people, hopefully they will accept me.
Chapter I:
Gunther ran over the moonlit ground at an inhumanly pace, his clothes billowing in the wind he created. The terrain was relatively flat so he made good time.
He could see the white walls of Galmora in the distance, his destination. He quickened his pace, and then slowed as he came to the gates. The guards there didn’t stop him; he walked into the stone courtyard. He walked past a giant water fountain and up a flight of marble steps.
At the top stood two giant ochre doors, guarded by two heavily armed Elves, just like at the city gates.
“What is your business here?” one grunted.
“I am here to see your king,” Gunther replied.
“He is your king too, scum,” the same guard spat, drawing his sword. It glinted in the moonlight. Gunther stared at the Elven blade.
The guard smiled, “You like this?”
Gunther nodded, “It is a fine weapon.”
The guard swung his sword, aiming for Gunther’s neck, attempting to decapitate him. Gunther ducked and dispatched the guard with a simple sweeper kick; he made it seem so effortless.
He sighed and looked at the other guard. “Would you like to display your stupidity and try to attack me, too?”
The guard shook his head, wide eyed.
“Well open this door and take me to your king,” he bellowed.
“S-sir,” the guard stuttered, “you cannot go in there armed.”
Gunther looked at the bow slung over his back and the two thin blades at his hips.
“I am friend, not foe. And if you value your life you will step aside.”
“Yessir,” replied the scared guard. He turned around and swung one of the giant doors open.
Gunther walked inside hastily and proceeded up a stair case straight ahead of him. It was as if he knew where he was going. And he did.
With his heightened senses he could detect some evil lingering and he smelled a lot of fear. He continued down the end of a hallway, cautiously. As he drew nearer to the king’s chamber he noticed the door was ajar, most peculiar.
Hand on his sword; he peered through the crack in the door. It was too dark to distinguish anything, but he knew there were two people inside.
“Fool,” a deep voice hissed, “we are not alone.”
The door flew open and the king stood before him. Gunther looked over the king, but there was no one else in the room.
“Greetings your majesty,” Gunther bowed his head, as a sign of respect. “I am-“
“I know who you are,” the king cut him off, “come inside.”
The king turned around and sat down on a plush chair. Gunther did the same opposite him.
“Why have you come?” the king asked him, lighting a candle on the table between them.
The light lit up the room, and for the first time Gunther saw the king. He was a very short man and very skinny. His hair was short and jet black. His eyes had purple bags beneath them and he hadn’t shaved for weeks. This man was stressed.
“I’ve come to return to my people, my lord,” Gunther replied.
“Your not-” the king stood up and began to yell, but quickly cut himself off. “Excellent, I could use another body guard. Tell me, what are your fighting skills like?”
Gunther was suspicious. “I don’t mean to boast my lord, but they will be superior to anything you’ve ever seen.”
“Great,” the king replied, smiling.
Chapter II:
The king stood up, “Meet me in the courtyard tomorrow, I’ll see how good you actually are.”
“Yes my lord,” Gunther stood up and bowed low.
He walked back outside and looked around, this time he took in every aspect of his surroundings. Before him was a large stone courtyard, with a marble water fountain in the middle. It had a constant flow of water spraying out of a small, naked boy’s mouth.
Gunther walked over to the fountain and looked in the water. Many small fish inhabited the pond.
His Elven ears picked up footsteps on his flank. Without even looking, he ran for the giant stone wall surrounding the Elven city of Galmora. He moved so fast, no normal eye would have been able to see his movement.
Once he was safely perched a top the ten foot high wall, he scanned the area, looking for his stalker. It was very dark, but his hybrid eyes adapted quickly and he spotted something immediately.
This was something Gunther had never seen before. It stalked along the wall, cocking its head, observing the area.
The smell stung his nostrils, causing them to flare. His ears were filled with a squelching sound, the creature’s footsteps.
Using his senses, Gunther could usually distinguish any creature, even without his vision. But this, he had never seen before.
As the creature stepped out of the shadows and into the faint moonlight, Gunther knew immediately what it was. Its skin was a dark shade of red and it had no hair on its body. It wore old tattered leather clothing.
Then he noticed its eyes. They were like giant black orbs, embedded in this creature’s skull. He had heard many stories of these vile things. It was the eyes that gave them away.
Bloods.
Gunther took one of his swords out of its sheath. It was very short and thin but it was folded metal. He gripped the leather handle and watched the creature. As it passed underneath he jumped off the wall and swung his sword in a giant arc. The sword embedded in its skull and hot, red blood sprayed from the fatal wound.
Gunther heaved his sword from its skull. The Blood used its last breath to scream, an irritating and ear-splitting sound. Gunther kicked the dead body to the ground and looked around; surely someone would come to investigate soon.
He quickly dragged the dead body into the shadows and abandoned it, walking along the wall.
Gunther’s head jerked up to see two guards patrolling, approaching him slowly. He bowed his head but never dropped his gaze. One of the guards had his hand on his sword, slung on his hip. As he passed them he heard the other say something.
“… The king gave us orders,” and the guard took his hand off his weapon.
Gunther was growing more and more suspicious.
None of this feels right, he thought, maybe they just think I’m an outsider and not welcome.
When he was well away from the guards, he turned to face the giant castle that concealed the city. To most it would seem there was only a castle behind those large walls. But behind the castle was a small city, inhabited by the Elven race. The castle and city were carved from a mountain. When the Bloods arrived the king put a wall up for safety.
Gunther had his neck pulled back to its full extent, looking to the top of the building, amazed by its sheer size.
Gunther smiled, closed his eyes and braced himself. He squatted down, allowing him to use the full power from his legs. Then, he sprung and flew through the air. He landed on top of one of the guard towers. He turned around and peered over the edge, laughing to himself.
“You are not welcome here,” someone growled from behind him.
Gunther swung around to see another guard, with a loaded bow pointed right at him. When the guard seen his face he lowered his weapon immediately.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Gunther frowned, confused. No one here had ever seen him before, but they all seemed to know his face.
He jumped off the guard tower onto the castle roof. He sat down and leaned against the stone tower and closed his eyes.
His eyes flew open and he jerked his body up quickly. He sensed that same evil he did before.
Something’s definitely not right, I’d better watch myself, he thought. And with that, his mind pulled him into unconsciousness and he fell asleep.
*****
Gunther could feel the heat from the sun on his skin. He opened his eyes and sat up.
He walked to the edge of the castle and looked over. In the courtyard he saw the king’s crown glinting in the sunlight. A few guards were clustered in front of him.
Gunther jumped over the edge and flew down towards the ground. He landed right behind the king. He bent his knees to soften the impact.
The king swung around with his hand on his chest, obviously frightened.
“Gunther,” he panted, “how good of you to join us.”
Gunther smiled, eyeing off the guards behind the king.
“Now, let’s see you powerful you are,” the king said, walking backwards so nothing blocked Gunther from the guards.
They slowly circled around him, trapping him in a rough circle. Gunther didn’t move a muscle, instead he closed his eyes.
One guard behind Gunther raised his sword and charged at him. Just as he was about to arc his sword downward Gunther ducked and elbowed him just beneath the rips, instantly knocking the air from his lungs.
The other guards hesitated and looked at each other. They all charged in simultaneously, swords raised. Instead of arming himself, Gunther jumped in the air.
He looked down and saw all the guards’ crash into each other and fall over in a bloody heap. Only one was left standing.
He was looking straight up at Gunther, gripping his sword tightly with a look of determination on his face. Gunther smiled and drew one of his swords as he descended. The guard lowered his sword and swung it upwards, for maximum power. Gunther easily fended off the attack with his own sword. The guard was open for an attack. Just before he landed, Gunther thrust his foot straight at the guards face. Gunther’s foot collided with his nose and broke it instantly. The guard stumbled back and fell over, clutching his now bleeding nose.
Gunther landed and looked around him. Several Elven guards were sprawled on the ground, moaning in pain. He laughed and looked at the king.
“Your either as skilled as you say you are,” the king started, approaching Gunther. “Or my guards need replacing.”
Gunther chuckled.
“I have a mission for you, Gunther,” the kind said.
“What kind of mission?” Gunther asked, puzzled. He thought he was going to be a guard.
“I need you to retrieve a certain artefact that was stolen from our allies, the Humans. You will have a companion to accompany you on the journey, Brinog, one of my finest.”
Gunther bowed, “Yes my lord, when do you wish me to leave?”
“Well, right now,” replied the king. “Brinog will fill you in on the details when you embark.”
A tall slender figure descending the stairs caught Gunther’s attention. He had long blonde hair and was very tall, even for an Elf. He clothes looked like royalty, a long green fighting gown. He had a large sword strapped to his back and a small dagger attached to his boot.
Being extraordinarily observant was another of Gunther’s skills.
The king caught his attention and he averted his gaze from Brinog. “You will leave immediately, good luck Gunther.”
The king turned and rushed up the stairs, back into the castle.
Chapter III:
“Hello, Gunther,” Brinog said as he approached. “Come, we must make it to Danis before nightfall.
Gunther nodded and turned to walk beside Brinog, who was nearly a foot taller.
As they walked out of the city Gunther noticed it was almost night fall. He could see the sun setting on the horizon, over the flat plains that were stretched out in front of him.
Brinog pointed toward the sun, over the plains. “Do you see those small foothills?”
Gunther squinted, waiting for his Vampire eyes to adjust, “Yes,” he replied.
“Danis is at the base of those, not much of a journey. But I suggest we get across the plains before nightfall.”
“Why is that?” Gunther asked.
“The Blood and Werewolves will be out, and we best not run into them.”
Gunther nodded.
“So, think you can run that far?” asked Brinog.
“Just try and keep up with me,” Gunther took off at an extremely fast pace, not looking back.
After a few minutes of running, he noticed it was almost completely dark. Then he heard a scream.
He skidded to a stop and swung around.
Brinog was pinned to the ground by a large Werewolf, who was trying to claw at him.
Gunther sprinted back to rescue his companion. As he drew nearer, he jumped and flew horizontally through the air. He collided with the hairy Werewolf, tackling it off Brinog.
They rolled a few times across the dusty ground. Gunther quickly got on his feet, the Werewolf did the same. He drew his sword and started circling around his enemy.
The Werewolf took a few steps back, its mind finally adjusting to the fact he now had two foes. It clawed defensively at the two, but though better of it. The giant best roared and turned to retreat.
Gunther and Brinog both sheathed their weapons.
“Are you wounded?” Gunther asked him.
“No, I am grateful. I owe you my life,” Brinog replied.
“It is fine Brinog, let us not delay further,” Gunther said, starting to run again.
*****
The two entered the small village of Danis. It wasn’t much, only a few wooden establishments. There were large wooden pikes sticking out of the ground at the front and small hills to the back.
“Over there is a tavern, go there and find out what information you can about the Human king’s missing sword,” said Brinog.
Gunther nodded and walked towards the wooden building. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Brinog walking back to the entrance of the city.
He entered the tavern, only a few people were there. To his left, running along the wall, was a bar. A female bar tender was serving the ale.
To his right were a few chairs and a large fire place, flames cackled inside, producing grey smoke which was whipped away immediately out of the chimney.
He walked to the fireplace and stood in front of it, with his hands behind him, warming them up.
There was a very large man sitting on a chair much too small for him, only a metre away. He took a long draught of ale and slammed his cup back down on the table. He looked at Gunther, “You got a problem boy?”
“No,” Gunther looked away, not wanting to cause any trouble.
The man got up slowly, put his mug on the bar and walked out of the tavern. Gunther followed him.
He could see the man slowly walking away. He looked around, the town was deserted.
Gunther jogged loudly over to him, getting his attention.
“What do you want,” he said, slurring his words a little.
Gunther looked deep into his eyes, attempting to use his strong mind powers to retrieve information.
But nothing happened; the man just stared at him. Usually it would work instantly, as the man was in a drunken and weakened state. But it was extremely dark and eye contact wasn’t possible.
“What do you know about the Human’s missing sword?” Gunther asked him.
“That is no business of yours,” the man spat.
Gunther concentrated very hard. Usually when Human’s were thinking they sent out faint brainwaves containing information. After they said something, they usually thought about it. Gunther relied on this. He was the only person he knew about with this gift. It must have been a Vampire trait.
Suddenly, inside his head, a quiet voice started speaking.
How does he know about the sword? I bet that crazy fortune teller here would give me some information. I should go see him soon.
“Hey, what’s wrong with your eyes,” the man asked, “They’re all red.”
Oh no, Gunther thought, I need to feed.
Gunther was a person of morals, he despised being rapacious, but he didn’t have a choice.
The man walked away, mumbling about how children were so rude.
Gunther stalked behind him silently, not making any sound. He accidently stood on a twig, making a faint snap.
The man swung around, but nothing was there.
He turned around and began to continue walking but was stopped by something. Gunther’s hand flew to the man’s mouth, to prevent him from screaming. He jerked the head abruptly to the right, breaking the neck. He tilted the head and pulled the bare neck towards him.
He extended his fangs, he had to drink quickly. After the body had been dead for to long, the blood turned sour as it wouldn’t be circulating.
Gunther bit the neck, his fangs burying themselves inside the man’s flesh. No blood leaked as the heart had stopped. He drank quickly.
When the blood was relinquished he dropped the dead body and wiped the blood from his lips. His eyes returned to their normal hazel colour.
He lifted his head up and looked at a small wooden hut. It had a veranda with a wooden rocking chair. Hanging from the ceiling of it were many bones. That was obviously where this fortune teller lived.
He walked to the door and knocked several times.
“Enter, Gunther,” an old voice came from inside.
Gunther opened the door, the hinges squeaked. As he entered he could smell a strong lavender odour. The room he was in was very bare, containing only two arm chairs facing a small fire place. One was occupied by a frail old man wearing a black hooded cloak.
“Sit,” he said.
Gunther did as he was instructed and took the seat.
The old man looked at him. Gunther flinched. This Human looked much too old to be alive and his eyes were completely white.
The old man smiled, revealing two rows of yellow teeth. He pulled a pipe from his coat and lit it with a small flame from the fire. He puffed on it and blew the smoke at Gunther.
“My name is Gladrial and I am a fortune teller. Unfortunately, at the present, your mind is much too clouded for me to read and so is your future. Come back at a later date and I might have more luck.”
“I will take you up on your offer, but that’s not the reason I’m here.”
The old man was taken aback. He sat up straight and listened intently, continuing to smoke the tobacco.
“My king has sent me on a mission to retrieve the king’s sword-“
“Ah, the great sword, the protector of the Human race,” Gladrial cut in. “That sword was a gift to the first king, from the finest Elven blacksmith, as a sign of peace. If the gossip is correct, it has been stolen, no?”
“It has indeed,” Gunther replied.
“I don’t know if the gossip is correct, but I hear a small group of assassin’s stole it. They wish to use it against the Human king.”
“Where does this group reside?”
“In the Elven forest,” Gladrial replied.
Gunther flinched. That was where he was raised. Maybe he knew these assassins.
“Okay, thank you for your information,” Gunther said.
“Make sure you come back,” Gladrial began laughing hysterically, “We have much to talk about.”
Gunther exited the house to see Brinog waiting for him. As he closed the wooden door he asked, “Where have you been?”
“I was at the entrance to the village,” he replied, “Keeping an eye out for predators.
“I found out some information to the swords whereabouts,” Gunther said, walking to the cities exit.
“Where is it?” Brinog said excitedly.
“In the Elven forest, it’s in the possession of a small group of assassin’s.”
Brinog grimaced, “I’ve heard of the dangers lurking there.”
“Somehow, I think we’ll be fine.”
“I hope so, come now, we must leave immediately.”
They exited the city and began their journey to the Elven forest. They made sure not to venture to far into the plains, to avoid another attack.
Chapter IV:
“Stop,” Gunther hissed, Brinog stopped abruptly behind him. They were at the edge of the foothills and only a short sprint away from the Elven forest.
“What is it?” Brinog whispered.
“We are being watched,” Gunther replied, scanning the small hills to his right.
They walked carefully and quietly, keeping a sharp eye open for enemies. Gunther turned around to face Brinog.
“Wait here,” he said, “I’ll scout the area.”
Brinog nodded and Gunther walked up ahead. He crouched low and ran slowly over the dusty earth, looking at the hills as he went.
A quiet whisper caused Gunther to stop. He turned around and traced back over a few steps. The voice came from inside one of the hills. Gunther squatted near the place it had come from. Before he could even begin to investigate, a fake door in the hill side swung open. The last thing Gunther remembered was being hit right in the face with something hard and metal.
*****
Gunther awoke, his eyes blurry and his head spinning. When he finally came to his senses, he noticed his hands were bound and was hanging from the ceiling of a very dirty room. The room was very small and its walls were completely covered in dirt. The only thing in there was a small arched door, directly in front of him.
The door swung open and Brinog stood in the door way.
“You’ve come to rescue me, thank you,” Gunther said.
Brinog laughed, and raised a loaded boy at him.
“What is the meaning of this?” Gunther asked, trying to untie himself.
“Nothing personal, just my mission,” Brinog laughed and let go of the bow string. The whole bow slackened and catapulted the arrow through the air. Its small silver head embedded itself in Gunther’s chest. Silver!
Gunther let out a scream of pain. Brinog looked over his shoulder as distant footsteps echoed closer and closer. He turned and ran down the opposite hallway, unseen.
Gunther screamed again just as someone walked through the door. They wore leather leggings and a white hooded cloak, the assassin’s dress code. He took off his hood and smiled.
“Gunther, my old friend, how are you?” his voice was full of joy.
Gunther squinted, as if he wasn’t seeing properly. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Rydain, is that you?”
“Yes, where have you been all these years?” he asked as he walked over to Gunther.
Gunther and Rydain grew up together in the Elven forest, both of them outcasts in their communities.
Rydain put his hands up and began to untie the rope binding Gunther’s hands. Then Gunther remembered the arrow in his chest.
“Don’t,” he yelled, “Inner demon.”
Rydain grimaced, he had forgotten, Gunther was half Vampire. But it was too late.
The rope fell to the ground. Gunther ripped the arrow out of his chest. Rydain stared at him, “Don’t do it Gunther, control it.”
Gunther was trying his best to maintain the good and evil inside him. But he had been injured with silver, Vampire’s kryptonite. If he didn’t feed immediately he would die. He tried to think of his mother, but that didn’t do any good. It was much too late now.
His eyes went completely red and his fangs extended. His inner demon had been unleashed. Gunther had no control now; his inner demon had taken over his body.
Rydain saw the eyes and turned to run, but Gunther appeared right in front of him. Gunther kicked the door closed behind him and slowly walked forward. Rydain backed towards the door, mumbling frantically.
“P-please,” he stuttered, tears streaming down his face.
Gunther laughed and lunged forward, grabbing him around the throat. He squeezed tight until Rydain’s face was turning blue.
“Let me go,” he choked.
But Gunther squeezed even tighter. His eyes started bulging out of his skull. Blood started to seep out of his eye sockets, then out of his nose.
Gunther licked the blood off his face and smiled. He bared his fangs and roared.
“Please, stop this,” Rydain was rubbing his eyes and sobbing.
Gunther picked him up and turned him on his side. Rydain screamed again. Gunther ripped off his cloak, revealing a pale stomach. He grinned and bit into it, spraying blood flying everywhere. Rydain screamed and screamed until his body was drained of blood and he died.
Gunther threw the dead body at the wall, snapping the spine. The Gunther that was trapped inside his own mind began to sob; he had just murdered his best friend. The only friend he had in the world.
Gunther ran, not bothering to open the door, he barged it off its hinges. He turned down a hall way and saw several people who looked just like Rydain, guarding something.
He continued running as they drew their weapons. Gunther laughed, next to nothing could stop a Vampire experiencing his inner demon.
As he neared the guards he saw a circle of sunlight on the ground, he looked up. There was a hole in the ceiling. Instead of fighting off the guards, he jumped right over them and out into a forest.
The room he was in was beneath a giant tree, in the Elven forest. As he walked into the sunlight his inner demon gave him back the control of his body. As soon as he had control of his mind, thoughts flew in and out of his head and tears streamed down his face.
The guards shouldn’t follow, they’d know better than to face a Vampire, he thought as he walked to a small tree not far away.
He sat underneath it and found himself reminiscing about the times he spent with Rydain. They were both orphans fending for themselves, they protected each other. When Gunther left to live with his own people, Rydain was cut. He never thought he’d see him again.
But he did.
Gunther started sobbing loudly as it started raining.
He walked out from under the tree and looked to the sky. He let the rain drops fall onto his face and wash the tears away. When he opened his eyes he saw something high in the trees. It was glinting in the small amount of sunlight. It was a sword!
Could it be? He though.
Without lingering on the thought any further, he took a few steps back, sizing up the tree. He ran up the side of the tree. Gripping it wasn’t hard as he was going so fast.
When he reached the top he saw the sword sitting on a branch, only metres away from him. He reached out to grab it but his hand was kicked back.
“You killed Rydain, you filthy half cast,” a person dressed like an assassin suddenly appeared, from behind a branch. He brandished a small sword, a lot like Gunther’s.
Gunther sobbed again, “I didn’t mean to,” he wiped a tear from his eye, “He was my best friend.”
The newcomer swung his sword at him. Gunther reared back to avoid it. To get closer, the assassin jumped to another branch, leaving to sword wide open.
He saw Gunther staring at it and attempted to jump back, but he wasn’t fast enough. Before he landed Gunther jumped and snatched the sword, knocking the guard off his perch. He fell down towards the ground. Gunther straightened up while in the air and landed swiftly on his feet. The assassin didn’t. He landed head first on a large tree branch. His neck broke instantly and blood leaked out of an invisible wound.
Gunther tore his eyes away from the body and looked at the sword he was holding up. It was a beautiful weapon. Its blade was so shiny Gunther could see his reflection. The hilt had a ruby embedded in it and the handle was made of pearl. Carved into the blade was ‘Thou King’s Sword,’ in Human language.
Gunther heard some voices approaching. He sheathed the sword and took off deeper into the forest.
*****
Gunther sat on a mouldy log in the middle of the forest. He was surrounded by hundreds of unbelievably tall trees, at least a hundred feet tall.
He cradled the Human king’s sword in his arms, admiring it. He could feel the power radiating from it.
I wonder where the power comes from, he thought.
“The ruby in the hilt is where the power comes from. It was given to the first king of the Humans by a Vampire as a peace treaty,” Gunther was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice. He jerked his head up and saw an old man cloaked in a white robe. He looked exactly like Gladrial, only with different attire.
“You-” Gunther started, but Gladrial cut in.
“Yes, I did read your mind. I also noticed you have met my brother.”
“Yes, in Danis. I needed his help,” Gunther said.
The old man laughed. “Well, what help was he?”
“He told me the location of the Human king’s sword; I was assigned to retrieve it for my king.”
The old man’s eyes started rolling frantically in their sockets and a small wind started twirling around him. He spoke with a much deeper voice. “Someone is betraying you, young one. Keep your wits about you,” the wind died down when he had finished talking.
Gunther got on his feet and started to walk away.
“Wait, where are you heading?”
“Back to Galmora,” Gunther replied.
“Let me get you their quicker.”
“Why?” Gunther asked. He was puzzled, why would the old man help him?
“I knew your mother,” he said raising his arms.
Everything went black, it seemed as though Gunther was floating over some sort of abyss. A few moments went by and a room started to materialise around him. He was in Gladrial’s house, but Gladrial was nowhere to be seen.
He walked to the front door and opened it, but he was stopped by a faint screaming. His ears prickled as he heard it again.
“Gladrial,” he shouted. The screaming stopped. He continued, thinking he was hearing things.
He closed the door behind him and stepped out onto the dusty, deserted streets of Danis. Well, not a street per se. The town was basically a cluster of houses in a rough circle. In the centre was a large fire.
Gunther spotted an old wooden carted led by a horse trot out from behind a house. It was driven by a very short Elf. He walked over to it and cleared his throat to get the Elves attention.
“Where are you heading, sir?” Gunther asked.
“Galmora,” he replied.
“What are you doing in Danis? It’s no place for an Elf.”
“I could ask you the same question,” he said, avoiding the original question.
“I suppose you could,” said Gunther. “Do you mind if I get a ride with you to Galmora?”
“Sure, jump on.”
Gunther sat on the spare seat next to the small Elf and they rolled out of Danis and onto to the plains.
Chapter V:
As the wagon wheeled over the lumpy terrain, Gunther pulled the sword out of its sheath and admired it. He stared endlessly at it, until he noticed the light slowly deteriorating. He jerked his head up and looked to the horizon, it was orange and the sun was slowly setting.
“Its dusk,” Gunther said, “how do you plan to reach Galmora alive?”
When he didn’t get an answer he looked to his right. To his astonishment, there was no one there. The small Elf had disappeared.
By now, the cart was about half way to Galmora, he could see the giant castle in the distance. He gripped the sword and braced himself, Werewolves would soon come.
As the sun disappeared behind the mountains behind Galmora, he heard loud roars to the east. Behind the ruins of the Vampire city was a giant forest. The Werewolves were dominant there. They had picked up his scent, and no doubt would be chasing him soon.
Gunther untied the leather saddle and let it slide off the horse. He climbed atop the animal and gripped its main. He kicked the horse in its side, causing it to whinny and start galloping down the dusty path to Galmora.
More roars from the forest made Gunther vienerschnitzle his head towards them. The Werewolves had emerged from the woods, but he saw something else as well.
Something or someone was hiding in the corner of a ruin in the old Vampire village. Gunther jerked the reigns and the horse skidded to a stop. It was definitely someone; they were staring right at him.
Gunther dismounted his horse and walked over to the ruins on foot. Just as he entered what used to be the Vampire city, the Werewolves ran through the other side. Gunther unsheathed his sword and raised it in the air. Every Werewolf running at him skidded to a stop. The let out a small growl of fear and ran back to the forests. This sword contained a lot more power than Gunther anticipated.
When all the Werewolves had successfully scoured back to the darkness of the forest, Gunther sheathed his sword again, and continued his walk to the stranded person.
As he approached this person, they stood up and he realised immediately it was a female Elf. This was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had short blonde hair; her fringe was flicked to one side of her face, covering one of her eyes. She was dressed in basic Elven working clothes; brown leather leggings and a dull cotton shirt. She was only a foot shorter than Gunther, average Elven lady height, and slender in build. Her eyes were quite large; they were a beautiful shade of blue.
“Are you alright, my lady?”
“Yes, I am fine, thanks to you,” she replied, lowering her head embarrassingly.
“Why are you here after dark?” Gunther said, “And not in Galmora?”
She raised her head and looked at Gunther. “I was banished for treason, so I thought I’d stay here for a while.”
“Treason, what did you do?” Gunther was confused.
“I cursed Murdok, the Bloods leader,” she replied.
“What? The king is in league with the Bloods?”
“Yes, he is. But it has only recently become public.”
“Now it makes sense, sort of.” He though about the king using him for a mission and Brinog trying to kill him. But some things were still left unanswered, and only the king could answer them.
“That king is a traitor,” Gunther said, “I’ll cut his head off.” He started to get angry.
“What do you plan do to?” She asked.
“Kill him,” he calmed down immediately, something about a women’s voice calmed him.
“By the way, I’m Gunther,” he said.
“My name is Naveen,” she put her hand out. Gunther started to blush; he took her hand gently and kissed it. They both blushed and an awkward silence fell over them.
“Let’s, er, go to Galmora,” Gunther said.
Naveen scoffed, “Are you crazy or just plain stupid?”
“What do you mean?”
“They’ll kill you.”
Gunther laughed a deep laugh, “You’ve obviously never heard of me then.”
“Should I have?” she asked, confused.
“Gunther the half cast, half Vampire half Elf,” said Gunther.
“That’s you?” she asked, a very surprised look spreading across her face.
Gunther sprinted around her in circles, causing a small whirlwind. When the dirt had settled he walked over to a clay slab, easily five times as large as himself and a lot more in weight. He picked it up and balanced it above his head on one hand.
“That’s the foundation of a room,” she said, amazed.
Gunther threw it, crushing the ruins of a house.
“Now do you think I’ll get killed?”
Naveen laughed, “No, you’ve convinced me.”
“Okay, let’s go then,” Gunther said. They turned around to walk back to the horse, which was, surprisingly still there.
A loud roar made them swing around. An abnormally large Werewolf was standing at the edge of the forest. It looked like a normal black dog, only ten times larger and with much longer hair. Its teeth were stained yellow and it had tiny, beady eyes. This Werewolf had some sort of authority about him; it was obvious he was the leader.
“You dare come near my territory,” it shouted, which was very peculiar, Werewolves were animals and couldn’t speak.
The Werewolf charged at them, but stopped abruptly when Gunther drew the king’s sword.
“Mujardin,” the Werewolf grunted deeply, “how did the Human king’s sword come into your possession?”
“My king sent me to retrieve it, from a group of assassins,” Gunther replied.
“Your king is nothing but a traitor,” the Werewolf spat.
“Yes, so I’ve heard. I intend to kill him, when I return to Galmora.”
The Werewolf looked at Naveen, who was huddled behind Gunther.
“Well, we seem to have something in common. If you need any help, my friend, just come and consult me.”
“I will, master Werewolf,” Gunther bowed and slowly backed away. The Werewolf watched as Gunther helped Naveen onto the horse and as they rode off toward Galmora.
*****
Gunther dismounted the steed a few hundred metres away from the city gates. He helped Naveen down, “wait here, I’ll be back soon. If you get into any trouble, ride back to the ruins and hide.”
She nodded and Gunther began walking to Galmora.
As he came to the gates, he was confronted by two guards, “what is your business here?” one asked.
“I’m here to slay your king,” he replied, drawing his two swords, leaving Mujardin in its sheath.
“It’s Gunther,” the other exclaimed. They drew their swords and walked towards him.
The king has alerted the guards, no doubt everyone else has been told to kill me on sight, he thought.
As the guards approached, he tightened his grip on his swords. One lunged at him, but he easily fended it off with a flick of his sword. The other entered the battle and the sparring began. Gunther easily defended himself; it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.
An arrow flew past his head, missing him only by centimetres. He looked up and saw an archer on the wall, firing arrows at him. Taking advantage of this distraction, one of the guards sliced his sword at Gunther, cutting his arm. The blood stained through his garments.
The archer fired another arrow, Gunther jumped back, avoiding the arrow and the attacks from the guards. As the archer loaded another arrow as a guard swung his sword at him. Gunther swung his sword back hard, leaving the guard unprotected. He kicked the guard in the stomach, knocking him down.
Just as the archer shot the arrow, Gunther quickly lunged at the guard who was still standing. He tried to block it, but Gunther was too quick. His sword pierced his chest and drove straight through. Gunther raised the dead guard off the ground on his sword, just in time to use the body to shield him from the arrow.
He threw the body to the ground and heaved his sword from the corpse. The other guard still hadn’t recovered from his blow, so Gunther ran to him quickly and slashed his throat. Another arrow whizzed by, even closer than the last.
Gunther looked up at the archer, who was now searching his quiver for another arrow. While he was occupied, Gunther took out his bow and loaded it with an arrow. The archer had seen what Gunther was doing, so he was searching faster for an arrow. Gunther pulled the bow string back as far as it would go and aimed carefully. Just as the archer had loaded his bow, Gunther let his arrow go. It cut through the air at an amazing speed. It flew straight along the archers aiming arm and found its mark, right in his eye. The arrow ripped through his skull and kept going through. The metal arrow tip could be seen, covered in blood, prodding out of the back of his head. The archer dropped his bow and fell to the ground.
Gunther stripped one of the guards of his uniform and dressed himself in it, concealing his identity. He also took the helmet, to cover his face. He dragged the bodies into the shadow of the wall, and ran into the city.
He slowed to a walk when he saw a small group of guards. They all called out to him in a drunkenly fashion, he ignored them and kept walking to the castle.
*****
Gunther stood outside of the king’s chamber, he could hear something inside, the king was definitely in there. He had slipped past the guards in the castle unnoticed, in his disguise.
Gunther kicked the door, its hinges broke and the door crashed to the ground. The king, who was pacing, suddenly stopped and stared.
Gunther took of the helmet and threw it to the ground.
“Ah, Gunther, you’ve returned,” the king said nervously.
Gunther stepped in the room and locked the door behind him. He grabbed the king and threw him to the ground.
“What is the meaning of this?” the king moaned.
“Why are you in league with the Blood?”
“I had no choice, he threatened to kill me.”
“Well, what is this sword for?”
“He wanted it, some kind of old prophecy,” the king replied.
“What does the prophecy say?”
“I don’t remember.”
Gunther picked the king up and threw him into bookshelf, shelves snapped and books fell to the floor.
“Well, remember,” Gunther yelled.
The king started hyperventilating, “Uh, something about the first half cast slaying the evil in the land with a holy weapon.”
It finally came to him, “So you were just a pawn, in an attempt to kill me?”
“No, not kill you, humiliate and taunt you, then kill you. But I was supposed to deliver the sword to him, now I will be killed.”
“Yes, you will be,” Gunther drew Mujardin and raised it high above his head, the point facing the ground. He brought it down with great strength and it stabbed straight through the king’s chest. Blood sprayed from the wound as he retrieved the sword. Blood leaked from the king’s mouth and his eyes turned black.
In a much deeper voice the king started to speak, “It has been fun taunting you, first with Gladrial, then making you kill your best friend. And then your brother.”
Gunther raised his eye brows.
“Yes, the king was your brother. He disowned you because you were half cast. But I used him, so he decided to accept you when you came back. Oh and maybe you should check on your female companion,” the voice laughed. Then, the body incinerated and all that was left was a pile of dust on the floor.
Gunther couldn’t believe what he had just heard. All along he had been played a fool, just for the enjoyment of a Blood. He had killed his best friend and the brother he never knew of.
He kicked the bookshelf, causing more books to fall down. Gunther screamed loudly with grief. He decided to go to the civilised world and instantly everything falls apart.
But, maybe I can redeem myself, he thought, Naveen!
Chapter VI:
Gunther threw off the guard’s uniform and retrieved the sword. He had to get back to Naveen as quickly as possible. He ran and jumped at the window. He covered his face as it smashed. Glass shattered and fell to the ground. He followed it, but making a slightly louder thump.
He ran quickly, through the courtyard and out of the city. When he arrived where he left Naveen, only the horse remained there. Next to it was a big pool of blood.
The bloods had taken her!
Gunther climbed up on his horse and galloped hastily to the forest.
He slowed the horse to a trot as he entered the ruins. He led the horse in a clear path of the destroyed buildings. When he got to the edge of the forest, he dismounted and continued walking.
When he entered the forest, it was a lot darker than he expected. He could see red eyes everywhere, and he heard low growls. But nothing attacked him.
He proceeded, deeper and deeper into this gloomy, unwelcoming place. There was a rough path way that was riddled with vines and roots. Lining the sides of the path were thick bushes, riddled with sets of red eyes.
The leader of the Werewolves, perched atop a wooden throne came into view.
“You have come back, young one,” he growled, throwing a chewed bone away.
“Yes,” Gunther bowed, “I am in need of your assistance.”
“Is your deed done?”
Gunther grimaced. “Yes, I have slain the king.”
“Great,” the Werewolf said, “then I am at your service, what is it you need?”
“I need you and your army sir; I wish to scale a full war on the Bloods, on their own territory.”
“What would I get out of this, besides cleansing this world of filth?”
“Your race would once again rule, my lord,” Gunther bowed.
“What of the Elves?”
“They are leaderless.”
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, I am deeply in your debt. Organise your army while I tend to some more recruiting.”
“The army will be ready by sunrise.”
“Great,” said Gunther, “Do you have some type of teleportation device here?”
“Yes, in fact we do. We found it in the Vampire ruins.” The Werewolf pointed to a cluster of bushes. Gunther spread the bushes aside and a small portal was revealed.
He turned back to the Werewolf, “I’ll be back soon, be ready.”
The Werewolf nodded. Gunther whispered Danis and stepped into the portal.
Seconds later, he appeared in the middle of the small town. He didn’t waste any time, he quickly walked over to Gladrial’s house and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so he knocked again. His knock was answered with a quiet moan. Gunther opened the door and entered the house.
He heard another faint moan. He walked briskly to the door at the other side of the room and threw it open. This room was empty apart from a chair in the centre. Gladrial was tied up and gagged.
Gunther took the gag out of his mouth and got to work releasing Gladrial from his bonds.
“What happened?” Gunther asked.
“I- I don’t know. The last thing I remember was shadows and heat, lots of burning heat.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never heard of anything like that around here.”
“Well, no doubt it was an enemy. We will need your brother’s help, summon him.”
“No.”
Gunther had finished untying him. Gladrial stood up.
“I refuse to talk to him.”
“Gladrial, this is no time for sibling rivalry. The fate of our world rests up you and your brother. We can’t win this battle without you,” Gunther yelled.
“What battle?” Gladrial asked, a puzzled expression spreading across his face.
“We are going to kill the Bloods, on their own ground.”
Gladrial muttered something inaudible under his breath and closed his eyes. Moment’s later and old man dressed in white appeared beside him.
Gladrial opened his eyes, “Ludac,” he nodded towards his brother.
“Gladrial,” Ludac exclaimed. He raised his arms and attempted to hug Gladrial.
Gladrial stepped back, refusing to touch his brother.
“Ah,” Ludac said, “I see you’re still not past that.” He turned to Gunther, “We meet again, young one.”
“Yes,” Gunther replied, “I am in need of your assistance.”
“What do you need?”
“I am putting together a small army, to kill the Bloods.”
“I would be happy to help,” his voice went deeper and quieter, “although, you will need every once of strength you can muster to defeat the leader.”
Gunther walked back into the other room, Gladrial and Ludac followed him. They took the seats and Gunther stood in front of the fire.
“Ludac, what do you know of this leader?” Gunther asked.
“Well,” Ludac got into a comfortable position and continued talking. “His name is Murdok and he is not to be underestimated. His origins are unknown, but it is rumoured he is from a distant land. Supposedly, he was constructed from shadows and flames. His master poured nothing but malice and hatred into him.”
“Murdok is by far the most powerful thing I have ever heard of, it will not be easy defeating him.”
Gunther looked at Gladrial, wide eyed. Gladrial just nodded and put his head down, ashamed.
“What?” Ludac asked.
“Gladrial was taken hostage by Murdok. And I talked with him.”
Ludac was shocked, “What is Murdok’s interest in you?”
“Something about a prophecy, I don’t know.”
Ludac looked at his brother, “We can help you.”
He smiled as Gladrial hesitated, then took his hand. Ludac and Gladrial put a hand each on Gunther shoulders and they closed their eyes. Their eyes lids flicked open and their eyes rolled back into their skulls. Both of them began hovering slightly. After a few moments they came back down to Gunther’s level and opened their eyes.
“The first half cast of this land,” Ludac started.
“Will slay the evil one, with a sword of power,” Gladrial finished the sentence.
Gunther took out the king’s sword and looked at it, “Do you think we have a chance?”
“With you, yes,” they said simultaneously.
Gunther laughed.
“Now that we are united once again, that will happen often.” They said together.
Gunther laughed again, “Let’s get back to the Werewolves.”
They all joined hands and disappeared as the two brothers muttered incantations.
They reappeared before the Werewolf leader.
“Romolus,” Gladrial and Ludac said. They bowed before the Werewolf.
“Greetings, realm protectors,” Romolus replied.
“What?” Gunther asked, confused.
“We are the protectors of this realm, that’s why we have magic,” they said.
Gunther nodded; everything was finally making sense now.
“Let us leave, the sooner we do, the better,” Romolus growled.
He stepped off his throne and got down on all fours. He slowly walked out of the forest, Gunther, Ludac and Gladrial followed him.
“Do you trust him?” Gladrial whispered in Gunther’s ear.
Gunther shrugged, “I don’t know him.”
Gladrial shook his head and walked faster.
As they exited the forest, Romolus roared, a loud deafening roar. It was answered by hundreds of quieter growls. Hundreds upon hundreds of smaller Werewolves started appearing from the shadows of the forest.
“To the Bloods,” Romolus growled loudly. The small army of Werewolves followed the orders, and ran towards the horizon, leaving a cloud of dust behind.
The four walked together behind, beginning their journey to war.
*****
As they neared the Bloods city of Abraxas a feeling of despair fell over them.
“Be strong,” Gladrial and Ludac said, “It’s one of his tricks.”
The four companions pressed on, trying to block this feeling out. Gunther looked up and for the first time laid eyes on Abraxas. The only thing visible was a giant black, metal gate. Behind that, all that could be seen was an orange dusty sky. It looked a lot like fire. In the distance screams of the Bloods could be heard, screams of pain. This place was evil; there was no doubt about it.
Chapter VII:
The army of Werewolves simultaneously skidded to a stop before Abraxas and formed lines, waiting for their instructions.
The four companions, Gunther, Romolus, Gladrial and Ludac waded through the Werewolf ranks and stopped in front of the giant gates. Gunther looked up and down; sizing up this gate. It was by far the largest thing he had ever seen. Then he had sudden flashbacks, memories of the only person he ever knew, his best friend that he had killed. Then the Elven king, his brother that he never knew. Whom he had also killed; maybe he didn’t deserve this great power he possessed. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
Gladrial and Ludac turned to Gunther, noticing his emotions, “Are you alright?” they asked.
Gunther quickly wiped the tear away, “Yes, I’m fine.” Now was not a time for softness.
“How do we get past?” Gunther asked.
Just then, a loud groaning sound echoed across the plain. It was the strain of the gates hinges. The gate was swinging open slowly.
It took some time, but after a few minutes, the gate was open as wide as it could, revealing Abraxas. It was nothing but a dead, dry plain, stretching to the horizon. The plain was a valley, concealed between two large mountains, which the gate was hoisted upon.
Gunther mustered up the courage and continued the journey inside the desolate place. His three companions followed him. Slowly crawling behind them was the army of Werewolves.
Gunther looked everywhere, this place was deserted. But his mind told him otherwise when he could hear a distinct rustling. He swung around, trying to find the source; it was coming from all around.
When the army was clear of the gate, it slammed shut, quicker then seemed possible. They were now trapped.
The rustling grew louder. Gunther’s instincts were alerting him, instructing him to flee. But he kept walking, cautiously glancing around.
He was following a distinct path, carved into the dusty, lifeless ground. Something to his right, just off the path caught his eye. He stopped and gave his full attention to it.
The ground was slowly crumbling away in this particular spot, then another next to it. Soon, the ground everywhere was slowly crumbling away. The surface dirt crumbled away, revealing small tunnels. Many Bloods poured from each one, surrounding them.
That explains the rustling, Gunther thought, laughing nervously to himself.
Gunther drew his sword and held it tightly with both hands, bracing himself. But the Bloods didn’t attack; they stood still, as if petrified.
The path was clear, but all around it was thick packs of Bloods, they were surrounded and out numbered. They would be massacred.
Gunther dropped his sword when he heard a blood curdling screech. His hands flew to his hears in his best attempt to block this sound out.
Way off in the distance, he saw a large black winged figure fly straight into the air. He couldn’t make out any distinguishable features only that it was very large, black and winged.
It seemed to position itself in the air. It started to fly straight towards Gunther at an impossible speed. Gunther quickly retrieved his sword and braced himself again. As the beast drew closer, he raised his sword, preparing for the strike.
The beast quickened it pace, flapping its wings faster, sending itself cutting through the air faster. Gunther let out what he though was a scream as it collided with him. Gunther didn’t fall back from the impact; he didn’t so much as twitch.
Time seemed to freeze. His sword flew to the ground, as if attracted by a large magnet. Gunther couldn’t see properly, his vision was clouded by darkness. He could smell burnt flesh and could only hear the cackling of flames. He opened his eyes wide and noticed he was inside the beast; he was passing straight through it.
Suddenly, he felt weak and drowsy. The beast was draining his strength. Gunther’s eye lids drooped as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness.
Chapter VIII:
Gunther slowly blinked his way back into consciousness. He was, once again, chained up to a wall. He would have to do something about this. He had the power, but not the control.
He was in a very large circular, empty room. To his right was a large door, which was shut. To his left was a very large red throne. It stood out, as the walls were glossy black metal. He heard two small gasps around him. Chained to the wall on either side of him, was Gladrial and Ludac.
Gunther exclaimed as he turned his head. Tied to a stake in the centre of the room was Naveen.
“Naveen,” Gunther exclaimed, “are you alright?”
“Yes,” she replied, “Just a head ache, you?”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” Gunther said, exhaling loudly. His strength had not yet recovered.
He turned to Ludac, “What of the Werewolves?”
He snarled, “Traitors.”
“What? Why?”
“Romolus accepted allegiance with them, for immunity. They would not be harmed. Murdok and Romolus knew if you had a decent force on your side, you wouldn’t hesitate to attack.”
“Dirty swine,” Gunther yelled. “Is there anyone we can trust?”
“I assume that was rhetorical,” Gladrial started, “but you can rely on us, we are the realm’s protectors, we cannot lie to its good hearted inhabitants.”
Ludac grunted to get Gladrial’s attention. They leaned forward to see past Gunther and started into each others eyes. Gladrial was nodding constantly in agreement, even though nothing had been said.
When the two had leaned back comfortably, Gunther looked from one to the other in confusion.
“We have a plan,” they said, simultaneously. Gunther couldn’t keep looking from one to the other, so he just focused on Naveen and listened. Naveen was listening intently.
“We have been in this realm since its creation; no evil has lingered here that we couldn’t deal with, except Murdok and his minions. We now understand that our purpose is to defeat him. But, as the prophecy states, you are the only one who can do it.”
“But the sword,” Gunther cut in.
“It is in my sheath, I retrieved it when Murdok was attacking you,” Ludac said.
Gunther nodded, “Thank you.”
Ludac and Gladrial continued. “At the present, we can sense that you are very weak and in no condition to fight any foe. So we have come to a conclusion we see fit. We will do our part in helping by sacrificing ourselves in order to give you strength and magic-”
Gunther cut in again, “No, I will not be responsible for anymore deaths.”
“Young one,” they said, “you judgement is clouded by lost loved ones. If we do not do this we will all die. It is our destiny to defeat this evil and this is the only way.”
More tears ran down Gunther’s cheeks and he nodded. “I lose everyone close to me.”
“Not me,” Naveen said. Gunther looked at her as she winked. He smiled a forced smile.
Gladrial and Ludac both closed their eyes and started muttering incantations simultaneously. They began glowing and a small breeze seemed to emanate from them.
Both their eyes flew open and they muttered, “Goodbye, my friend.”
A blue aura came from their chests and flew into Gunther. His eyes lit up as his strength suddenly came back. His chains shattered and he was free again. He looked to his left and right, Gladrial and Ludac were nowhere to be seen. A pile of dust was all that was left of them. Gunther took a small vial from his robes and took a small amount from each pile. He sealed it and stowed it safely back inside his robe.
He knelt down and picked up the shining sword that was beneath the dust. He stood up again and looked at Naveen. She was staring, wide eyed. Her jaw dropped, “that was, weird.”
Gunther grimaced as walked over to her. He pointed a finger at her bonds that bound her hands, rendering her useless and defenceless. A small blue spark shot from his fingers and incinerated the rope. She was freed immediately.
A small voice sounded inside his head, “Now you are free, rid this world of evil. Use your magic as a last resort. It will weaken the monster greatly but it will take its toll on your strength.”
Gunther nodded to himself and took Naveen’s hand. “It will be dangerous out there. I want you to hide. If I don’t make it out alive, run.”
She didn’t bother arguing, she knew Gunther was stubborn, so she just nodded.
They walked to the doors, hand in hand and Gunther thrust his foot into it. They flew open revealing a large flight of black stairs. This was a single roomed building, probably a temple for Murdok, built by his servants.
“Stay here, conceal yourself.” Naveen nodded and ran back into the room.
In the distance Gunther could see the black gate which he had used to enter this land. Between him and the gate stood nothing but dead land. But he knew, right beneath the surface, lurked thousands of Bloods. He would have to tread carefully.
He clutched the sword and hesitantly walked down the stairs. When he got to the base, he walked very slowly and quietly, so he wouldn’t alert any enemies.
After he had put a decent distance between himself and the temple, he stopped. He raised his sword and screamed, “Show yourself, coward.”
He tried to keep his anger at bay; he had been told it was foolish to fight with anger. But being a Vampire, it was difficult.
All around the giant path, Bloods crawled out of the tunnels, surrounding him again. They drew weapons and closed in on Gunther.
“Halt,” an extremely loud and deep voice boomed, “he is mine.”
The Bloods instantly froze and stepped back immediately. Gunther knew the voice belonged to Murdok; he looked around for the beast.
Only a few metres in front of him, chunks of dirt and clay flew up as a black figure flew into the air. Murdok landed in front of the hole he created. Gunther stared in awe at the evil creature. Its entire body was nothing but blackened, burnt flesh, covered in flames. It had giant horns sprouted from its skull and wings on its back.
“You look like a burnt angel,” Gunther said.
“Very good,” the deep voice replied. “I am the ever burning angel, punished by an eternity of flame.” Murdok chuckled.
Murdok opened his mouth, flames started to pour out and fly at Gunther. He raised the sword; the flames ricocheted and were thrown back at Murdok. The flames didn’t affect him but the impact knocked him down to the ground.
Murdok got up seemingly unaffected by the blow. He took flight, hovering just above the ground. He flew horizontally at Gunther. Gunther raised his hand and mustered up some strength. A blue orb formed on his palm. He aimed and threw it at Murdok. He dodged the magic easily and continued flying towards Gunther.
Gunther didn’t move, instead he readied himself, bracing his body. Just before Murdok collided with him, he raised his sword. Gunther was thrown to the ground; Murdok flew over his head and crashed to the ground behind him.
Gunther got up quickly and inspected his wounds. A few deep cuts, nothing too serious. But when he tried to move his arm, pain flew throughout his whole body. His sword arm was broken. He tossed the sword to his other hand and clutched it tightly.
He walked over to a now stationary Murdok. Gunther looked down at him, there was a deep cut running from the top of his body to the bottom. Something was seeping out, but it wasn’t blood, it looked like lava.
The beast’s eyes flicked open and his hand flew to Gunther’s throat. It clamped on and began squeezing the life out of him.
Gunther staggered, trying to focus properly. He raised the sword with his left hand and tried to hold it steady. He brought it down with the last ounce of strength he had left in him. Murdok tried to toss Gunther aside, but he wasn’t fast enough. The sword pierced Murdok’s skull and went straight through.
Murdok’s skull started to shrivel and spray the lava substance. His body started to do the same. Gunther heaved the sword out and watched Murdok’s body crumple and deteriorate. He looked around and saw the same thing happening to Murdok’s army, the Bloods.
A loud creaking sound caused Gunther to swing around. The giant gate had snapped off its hinges and fell to the ground.
The world was now free of evil.
Gunther spotted Naveen running towards him, with outstretched arms. He caught her and embraced her, squeezing her tightly.
“You did it,” she exclaimed.
Gunther smiled and gave her a small peck on the lips.
Naveen blushed and hugged his arm. Gunther winced, “It’s broken.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said blushing again.
Gunther took the vial out of his robe and unsealed it. “In memory of Gladrial and Ludac, the realms protectors,” he said as he tipped the dust. As it fell to the ground, life began to flourish all over the once dead land. Trees, grass and flowers sprouted everywhere. Lakes filled and the sky cleared up. It was beautiful again.
Gunther smiled and hugged Naveen. “This world is leaderless; I guess it’s my turn.”
They both laughed and hugged again, amazed at the sheer beauty of the new land.
Chapter IX:
The celebration was interrupted suddenly. Gunther tensed as he saw the ground slowly fading away in a particular spot, right in front of them. Naveen felt his body tense and looked up. When she noticed his blank expression, she averted her gaze downwards, to the spot Gunther had focused on. When she saw the ground disappearing she gasped quietly.
A large black hand prodded from the earth, engulfed in flames. Gunther’s survival instincts told him to flee immediately. He jumped back quickly, but he didn’t think to pull Naveen with him. She wasn’t quiet as fast. The black hand pulled her into the fiery pit from whence it came. Gunther heard her scream.
I will not burden myself with another death, Gunther thought, straightening his shoulders. He took a few steps forward and dived into the pit. The flames engulfed him as he descended.
Gunther's thoughts should be in italics, but I'm too lazy to pick through and change it all. Also, if you read this, please take the time to comment, it really helps.
I write it their first the copy and paste.