On Black Wings I Rise, On Black Wings I Fall

Chapters

My Last Soda
Hit The Ground Bleeding
Survival
Final Jeopardy (Theme)
Welcome to the Jungle, Baby!
IT'S ALIIIIIIIIIVE!
Why Do We Fall, Lost Warrior?
Just Judgement
I'm Wide Awake
Announcement

My Last Soda

Alright, I do not own MLP: FiM. Those rights belong to Hasbro. The only things I own are my OC’s.

Chapter written 6/26/2012 by Ryan Christopher Adams. (I do this to avoid anyone else from copying me and getting away with it.)

*Clunk*

“Ah, sweet relief.” I muttered while popping off the bottle cap and swigging down a few sips of the cool, refreshing, ice cold brown liquid inside the plastic bottle. Yep; nothing like an ice-cold Coca-Cola (yes, I used the brand name; sue me.) to freeze your throat when it’s a hundred degrees outside. Taking the soda and topping it with the cap once more, I sat back down at a table within the crowds of people, walking to and from whatever stores were in my vicinity.

Ah, the mall; not as nice as an internet café, or as private as my room, but it allows a change of venue without the smell of chocolate violating my nostrils or my family members barging in unannounced and rubbing whatever new chore they’ve given me in my face. Don't get me wrong, my family was a nice group of folks, but intrusions when I'm trying to work infuriate me to no end. I slipped the Legend of Zelda sling off my back, sliding out a chair and taking a seat, unzipping the first pocket while taking out a leather journal and a single pen out of the bag. Laying them both on the table, I plugged the headphones into the iPod in my pocket. Scrolling through my library, I decided to go with “Crepuscularity” by AcousticBrony. Did I mention I’m a brony?

Yeah, so far, only my family knows, and thank goodness they don’t hold it against me. Not that I’ve mentioned it to anyone else… or that I have anyone else to mention it to. I’ve heard of stories where people were threatened to be booted out of their homes simply for liking the gem of a show. God, the world I live in sucks. Wars about to start within years of each other; idiots diving into cactuses (don’t even get me started on that); Equestria seemed wonderful this time of year. Well, can’t really do anything to help that. I mean, it’s just a cartoon.

Man, was I about to be bitch-slapped by life.

Taking another swig out of my Coke, I continued to write word after word, going into however much detail was required for the story I was planning out. What? Can make a house without blueprints; same goes for writing. However, someone tapping on my shoulder took my attention away from the ink spreading across my paper. I turned my head to find… a teenager, roughly about my age just standing right behind me. There was nothing really special about him; he wore a red jacket (despite the blazing temperatures outside) with a black T-shirt underneath (was this guy nuts?) and a standard pair of jeans. Oh, and he had pale white hair. THAT was sure to turn a few heads.

“Um… can I help you?” I asked, taking the ear-buds from my… well, ears, and placing them back into my jeans pocket.

The white haired teenager simply gave a smirk before replying “I do believe the question is ‘Can I help you, my good sir.’”

Something wasn’t quite right about his voice. It was sly and slick, but intentionally misleading, like oil. Don’t believe me about the oil? Look at all the problems it’s caused, like war, and the oil spill, and all the deaths from video games with the help of a torch. Without another second of warning, a chair from the table I was working at suddenly spun out from under it while the teen sat nonchalantly, kicking up his feet and resting his hands behind his head.

I raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “What do you mean?” I replied as I began to fill my throat with the life-restoring liquids that had cost a mere dollar.

“I mean I can send you to Equestria.”

The sentence caught me completely off guard; I had to catch my Coke from spewing out of my mouth on sight. My eyes shot open like soda out of a shaken up canister (heh, soda jokes) while my jaw dropped like a lead balloon. Before I could even respond, I was meet with

“And don’t even think about denying that you’re a brony. I recognize that song that you were listening to anywhere. An excellent mix of techno and classical music, I might add.”

I couldn’t even begin to think about my answer. Okay, that’s a bit of a lie. It was along the lines of “FUCK YES!” and “Hit me with your best shot.”, but I still couldn’t completely trust him. If, and that’s a VERY big if, he was telling the truth, there was no doubt a catch. I’ve read fiction after fiction about people in this very same situation, and when they end up getting transported to the most hostile environments imaginable they end up losing something, like an arm or their voice or… wait! Who am I kidding? This is the adventure of a life time I’m looking at! If I’m going to Equestria, I’m not taking the easy route like most people; if Echo could put up with being a Diamond Dog, then I can put up with being… well, whatever the hell I’m going to end up being.

“Alright” I replied, leaning over and resting my elbows on the table, try to get a good look at the white-haired teen. “I’ll play your little game. But on just one condition.”

Taking his feet off the table, the teen reached into the back pocket of his pants, taking out a single sheet of paper with all manner of writing on it. It looked a lot like a contract. Well, I’m about to take a deal of super-dimensional proportions, so I guess this is something that should be expected. Glancing down at the paper, the text seemed oddly… peculiar to my eyes.

I, reader of this contract, here by accept the terms and conditions listed by the writer of aforementioned contract, and in no way shape or form, have any desire or opinion to return to the world from which I have been sent. Any and all other demands are to be listed below.

And low and behold, a dotted line lay blank, to which I wrote my deepest desire.

Wings.

Any person that knows me, and for some reason, not many people know me, knows that I DESPERATELY want to fly. A world transfer to Equestria would solve just that, so anything else would be fine; just give me some wings and I will be happy.

After signing my name at the final dotted line, the paper was rolled up via scroll fashion and placed back into the pocket of the teen.

“I believe that the terms and conditions have been accepted, so let’s get this show on the road.”

And with a snap of his fingers, my trip through utter chaos, the abyss and even hell itself began.

Before my body even knew what was happening, shots rang out through the gigantic hallways that made up the mall I sat in. Off in the distance, a body fell, dripping with fresh blood while my pupils went wide with horror. Scooping my journal and pen into my sling, the bag went back around my back in seconds while I scrambled to my feet. Not once did I look back at the table. I was too fucking scared about being SHOT! This was first shooting, and I did NOT want it to be my last! Okay, I did, but not in that kind of way! My legs moved as fast as my body would allow them while I shoved any person that met my path out of my way, desperately trying to get to the exit. After I saw a clearing, the beautiful, transparent glass doors lay right behind the empty space. Shoving another person to the ground, I went full blown Sonic on the empty space, reaching my hand for the doorway before

*BANG!*

My world stopped. Everything around me froze while my hand, now trembling, edged for my chest, clutching it with bitter emotion. Removing the grip from my shirt, I looked down at my hand, now stained with fresh, crimson blood. I nearly vomited at the sight. My body felt weightless as I began to fall to the floor. That lying bastard of a teen. I swear, the first second I get, I am haunting his ass to kingdom come. I’ll make the Bell Witch look like a pussy! The last thing I remember is my eyes half-closing and falling, but I don’t ever remember hitting the floor.

Well, that’s it for this chapter. Please do leave your opinions in the comments section, as I do enjoy advice from you readers. It helps with story development and other such things. Also, I’m sorry if the chapter didn’t seem so good to start with. I haven’t worked on a big project like a new story in a while, nor I have worked with the first-person POV in some time, but bear with me as the story will get better. Until then… crap, I don’t have a clever one liner…

Hit The Ground Bleeding

Published 6/27/2012 by Ryan Christopher Adams

Darkness. Nothing more, nothing less. Just an endless expanse of a void that I knew; wait! What the heck am I saying? I’m asleep! Trying to come back into consciousness, my head was pounding like my father when he continually smacks my door just to annoy me. He always had a strange knack for annoying me to no end. Anyway, my eyes slowly opened to where they were like a cracked door; not all the way opened, and not all the way closed.

“Oooh… what was in that Coke?” I groggily muttered, bringing on of my hands up to my head and rubbing my temples. If this is what a hangover feels like, I am NEVER drinking alcohol.

Sweet sunlight began to enter through the cracks in my eyes. It radiance began to bathe my body in its everlasting warmth, and without the blinding relapse that it typically gives you after coming out of a movie. I can’t even remember a time when sunlight felt this… welcoming. It was usually the painstakingly irritating heat that everyone escaped in the summer, but here it felt… nice, for lack of a better word.

Opening my eyes to their fullest extent, I found myself… in a tree… hanging upside down… by my ankles. How the heck did this happen?! Looking up to my ankles, I noticed that my bag had gotten twisted around my leg, snagging itself on a branch which kept me suspended up here. I also noticed that my pants were gone, and that my legs were considerably hairier. Like, Sasquatch hairy. Okay, maybe not that hairy, but you know what I mean.

‘Oh well. I never really liked wearing pants anyway.’ I thought to myself with a snicker. Man, is it going to be fun from here.

Or, at least that what I thought it would be.

Taking control of my arms again, I swung the upper half of my body up to where it could reach my bag, taking note that my hands had transformed into… paws? Well, I guess that means I’m a Diamond Dog.

‘But what happened to my claws?’ I wondered while unclipping the hold that kept the shoulder strap of my bag together. And, cue gravity.

A millisecond after the *click* of my bag came undone, I began to plummet from the branch I was dangling from, body, bag and all. Going full instinct, I flipped myself around and tried to grab whatever hanging branch would support me. I ended up with pine needles in my face, and they do NOT feel nice! The ground was coming up fast, and I was not about to spend the first day of wherever the heck I am now as a pancake. Reach one last time, my hand caught onto a free hanging branch about twenty feet from the ground. Though, something else had caught onto the branch as well.

Looking up from my new suspended position, I noticed that protruding from my digits were four, curved, transparent and very sharp claws. Well, I guess that solves the question about my species; I’m a cat. Wait a minute… that teenager ripped my off! That teenag-

My mouth fell open with disbelief as the memories began to pile back into my head once more. The shots ringing out in the hallways; my mad sprint for the exit as the timer on my life was about to hit zero; my chest burning like it had been scorched from the inside as I fell into my new body. I… was dead. My family… my friends… I would never see them again. I was probably a bleeding corpse in the middle of that firefight that used to be a mall now, spread among tens of others. Life had been a cruel mistress to me that day; it was completely unfair. I didn’t want to forget everyone else, but right now, I needed to stay alive. Tossing aside the hurtful memories, I latched my claws onto the bark of the tree, sliding down its side and jumping onto the floor of the forest I found myself in.

Standing on my legs felt very… weird. It felt incredibly off balanced considering how oddly shaped they were, making bending over to pick up my bag hard as crap. I almost fell on my face in that attempt. Strapping my sling around my back, I began to make my way through the forest, using trees to support myself as I began to adjust to my new legs. Pale strips of sunlight were breaching the pine trees overhead, letting in at least some light into this forest. Like it would’ve mattered. I’m half-freaking cat now; night vision!

A light gale wavered the branches of the trees and swirled its way around my fur, having my… clothing?! Wait a second! Turning my eyes down to my arms, I finally noticed that I was still wearing my favorite grey jacket, albeit with the sleeves ripped off from my now-muscular arms.
However, under the ashen fabrics was also my favorite speckle-pattern, ocean blue shirt.

With a bullet hole right over my heart.

I clutched the torn fabric, fresh tears falling from my hazel eyes and dampening the dirt below me. Life was cruel, and this was a whole new level for the world. I certainly had gotten my wish, and the contract had made certain of it. There was no one to blame for me getting killed but me; I had agreed to what the paper had entailed, and look where it got me: in the middle of fucking nowhere without an inkling on where to go. But I couldn’t let what I had left behind keeping me from moving forward.

Re-hardening my resolve, I pressed on, walking towards a clearing in the trees that was obscured by the bright radiance of the sun. No other animals had made their presence known to me. They were probably too scared to come out; I mean, I was seven feet tall with two inch claws. What’cha gonna do? Pushing the final branches out of the way, the sunlight gave way to what I believe was to be the most beautiful sight that my eyes had ever laid eyes on.

A beautiful canyon, gleaming with the color of freshly polished wood, roughly three-thousand feet deep. But who am I kidding? I’m terrible at that kind of stuff. The skies above me were laden with a multitude of scattered clouds, the plains stretching off unto forever without any other vegetation in sight. It was what most would classify as a wasteland, but to me, it was art. The wind was much stronger here, and finally, I could feel something poking out of my back. My head snapped around to find my wish. Granted.

Wings. I have wings. Eat your hearts out, Blue Angels.

I began to ponder just what I should do next. Should I practice trying to fly? Should I…

Before I could even finish that sentence, I was sprinting towards the edge of the nearest cliff I could find with my wings tucked in as tightly as possible. Screw the smart thing! I’ve wanted to fly for too freaking long, and I was not about to wait another second! Tightening the strap around my bag, I began to full on sprint towards the edge of the crag. My paws clapped against the stone with each step I took, the edge of the crag getting closer, and closer, and…

Weightlessness. I went full-on dive-bomb on the canyon, watching as stone after stone flew past me, a river running through the center of the cavern growing just as close as the ground. Contrails began to form at the tips of my folded wings and trailed behind, though my new limbs begged to be outstretched so my flight could begin. Terminal velocity approached as the winds grew even more powerful, nearly ripping my hoodie off of my body. Three hundred feet, two hundred, one-hundred.

My wings sprung open like a bear trap as I rapidly ascended out of the canyon and into the skies.

“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOO!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Now I know what Jim Hawkins felt like on his solar surfer. No wonder he did this! IT FELT AWESOME!

The wind enveloping every inch of your body. The endless expanse of sky as your own world. The freedom to go wherever you please. I began to go into things a little more elaborate. About fifty feet above the canyon, I went into a loop, cork-screwing before diving just inside the canyon once more. Descending down to the river, I began to catch glimpses of my new physical form. My hair, or fur in this case, was auburn in its shade, black streaks running down my eyes and curving outward at my lips, creating something of a scimitar pattern. My arms were at least a full three inches thicker with my new stature, although my legs stayed the same. My ears were topped with two tips of black, much like a mountain lion. My wings, outstretched, were, at best guess, a full fifteen feet at full expanse, stained an onyx black with my feathers that contrasted against my brown body.

‘Better start calling me the angel of death. I’ll slice your neck open with one swing of my-‘

And out of nowhere, and arrow whizzed past me, just barely missing my back and snapping against the Cliffside from the impact. Holy crap! I could’ve been shot again! My ranting thoughts, as entertaining as they may be, were instantly cut short by another arrow whizzing just under my head. Without another second to waste, I began to flap my jet black wings to accelerate, watching as the canyon walls began to fly past me in a haze of white light and stone. As my speed began to increase, so did the arrows. Out of the frying pan and onto the sidewalk.

Where it’s raining steel-tipped death.

The arrows were starting to become more accurate; already three had nearly pierced my stomach, and they were still increasing in their rate of fire. Well, when surrounded by projectiles with no way out, there’s only one thing to do.

“I guess it’s time to DO A BARREL ROLL!” I said in the words of the famous and hilarious hare.

Closing my wings to avoid any more damage, I began to spin like a Beyblade on steroids, snapping every arrow that dared try to pierce my being. It’s like my body had become solid steel. Heh; say hello to the new Juggernaut, bitches!

Instinctively, I rose back into the skies, dodging more oncoming arrows while I began to maneuver my best around them.

*RIIIP!*

And that was the sound of an arrow piercing my bag. Just great. Knowing that I was better off in the canyon, I began to dive back into the cavern. However, one lucky shot ended that endeavor as my jet black wings became stained with blood. If I kept falling at my angle of descent, I’d end up as the guy in 127 Hours, just not alive! Using my uninjured wing, I used whatever strength I had left to pull myself the right of the cliff, just outside the forest. I hit the stone with a dusty crash, skidding and tumbling across it before coming to a stop at the feet of one of the archers.

Looking up at him with tired eyes, I noticed that he too was pant-less. Well, I guess I won’t have to worry about modesty. He was wearing some kind of half-toga, tied by a sash and clipped with a pure ruby clasp. Over his head was a black hood obscuring his face in shadow. Looking down at me with what I knew was a sneer of disgust, he lifted his bow, and sent it across my face with a *snap!*. My entire world was black once more.

The archer’s colleagues soon regrouped with their leader, each with the same look of disgust and scorn across their face.

“You” he said, pointing to another with a pristine, pale hood. “Take him back to the village. Make sure that wound stays closed. We have orders to capture him; not to kill him.”

The feline nodded to his leader, picking up the unconscious body before flying off into the distance, taking their prisoner to his punishment.

Alright, that’s it for this chapter. I know it’s still going slow, but it’s going to pick up. Just give it time. Also, I’d like to know how I’m doing, since I’ve been out of this writing dealy for a while. I just feel like I’m not performing to the best of my ability, and I’d like your opinion on these things. Well, until next chapter, hasta!

Survival

Published 6/28/2012 by Ryan Christopher Adams

I woke up with another headache. I’m going to need to start carrying a bottle of Ibuprofen on my person if this keeps happening. My eyes began to open slowly once more, taking in the surroundings that I could identify. A wooden floor lay below me while I was surrounded by six halberd-wielding soldiers, all fully armored with plating, chain mail and battle helms. These guys did not fuck around with their military.

Looking around me, I noticed that scores of crowds kept a distance away from me, obviously scared due to the fact that I was an outsider that had been downed after flying in a canyon, though that didn’t stop them from chatting out of earshot. Trying to move the rest of my body, chains rattled with my movements. I had been immobilized; brought down to my knees with my arms, hands and wings chained. As I strained to pull them apart with whatever strength I had, I noticed that the links shimmered in the sunlight. They were diamond-encrusted, and by that effect, unbreakable. Well, so much for escaping. Besides, even if I broke the chains, my body would no doubt be speared or cleaved within seconds.

Looking back up, two felines sat within two heavily decorated wooden thrones. The king and queen, most likely. The king (or at least who I assumed to be the king) sat wearing all manner of regal robes, decorated with every royal color imaginable; bright violet acted as the main shade of his threads, though the clothing was outlined in a shimmering gold thread. And resting atop his head was a circlet of what seemed to be pure platinum, crested with a fantastic opal of shimmering yellow.

This guy knew how to look good.

Strapped to his belt was a sword with a golden hilt and a shimmering ruby topping it, sheathed in a scabbard adorned with sapphires and amethysts. Not sure if for show, or for combat. And as if the fancy clothing or decked out sword weren’t enough, the dude had two colossal white wings behind him, and they seemed like they were each at least three feet bigger than mine! Oh, and he had the same fur color with and X-shaped pattern on his face. Nothing too special, but it did make him look about 20% cooler.

Now the queen, standing just to his right, was beautiful, and I say "beautiful" because I believe that “hot” is more like slander. I’d would rather have my wife to be “beautiful” than “smoking hot”, because the way I see it, “hot” is synonymous to “slut”. My opinion, not yours. Anyway, the queen was garbed in a feminine variety of her husband’s clothing, and a silver circlet adorned with a piece of amber. She shared the same white wings as the king, each equally as colossal as his. Tied to her person, however, was something I did NOT expect to find. Shining in the sunlight was a steel-hilted dagger, topped with a sea-blue sapphire, wrapped in leather, in a sheath also made out of leather. No mistaking; that blade was meant for combat and nothing less. I just hope I’m not its next victim.

The king took two glances to his left and to his right, and final looking back at his queen before rising from his seat. That immediately hushed the murmurs and whispers coming from the crowds. Either this guy was a man to be respected, or he was someone that was not to be fucked with.

“My people” the king began in a voice that was low, but smooth. “This outsider has been brought before us to face trial for trespassing in the Gorge of Blackwings.”

Oh, the irony in his proclamation.

“Prisoner! State thy name!” the feline boomed, his voice now a bit more threatening, and with all the ancient language in it, too. I wonder if he knows Princess Luna?

‘Nobody! I killed Polyphemus and stabbed him in the eye! You wanna dance, pretty boy!' Is what I wish I could say, but right now, I’m in front of royalty. And if I’ve learned anything from movies, is that you don’t joke with royalty unless you’ve know them since you were born.

But I needed an alias. My real name would end up with me getting a one-way trip to the guillotine, so I needed a name, and fast.

“Abyss, your highness.” I replied with a smirk. I was stuck with no way out; kind of like free-falling in a bottomless cavern. “My name is Abyss.”

The king’s emotionless gaze remained fixed upon my position as he continued the trial. I figured this would not be a fun day for me.

“Scribe, the crimes stand as?”

Another feline, approaching from behind the thrones with a papyrus (weird. I didn’t think they grew papyrus in Equestria. If I’m even in Equestria, that is.) in his clutches, unrolling and clearing his throat to proclaim my so called “crimes”.

“The outsider ‘Abyss’ is charged with trespassing on the sacred grounds of our ancestors, The Canyon of the Blackwings, and avoiding arrest.” The scribe replied rather snobbishly. If I’m anywhere in Equestria, I must be close to Canterlot.

“Abyss, do you deny said actions?” the king replied.

I raised my head to meet his gaze. I thought it merely respectful to look my persecutor in the eyes. After all, he is the king.

“I do admit to my flight within the canyon, though I had no intention of trespassing.” I began to think of some kind of excuse to replace the old “from another planet” tale, and amnesia was simply too cliched, not to mention the fact that it simply wouldn't work.

“I was out hunting in the forests, as I had become short on food. I am merely a humble traveler sir, and I meant no harm to you or your people.” I replied as calmly as possible.

The king began to eye me… curiously, actually. I saw no question behind his gaze, nor question in his pupils. He was genuinely curious. Strange; not many rulers would want to find out more about their prisoner. From what I know, they would either be thrown into some kind of dungeon or executed on the spot. Guess I was just lucky that way.

“Guards, unchain him.” The queen spoke up, in a voice that seemed a like the White Queen from the Alice in Wonderland remake. I just hope her personality was just the same.

The guards, without question or hesitation, immediately unlocked the chains that bound me to the ground as the metal clattered to the ground in a heap. Cautiously, I rose from my knees, being extremely wary about the soldiers surrounding me. One false move and there goes my head.

“Thank you” I said to the queen, bowing graciously in respect. “Your grace, for your hospitality and compassion. I know that I do not deserve such treatment, but I thank the nonetheless.”

After stretching out the rest of my limbs, letting their bones pop with each movement, which, as far as I could tell, was familiar to the crowds, I let my wings extend just a bit. As I turned my head to the left, I noticed that about a third of the way down, three in inches from the top, was a small slit in the feathers from where the arrow had struck. Somebody is paying for that, and I hope that I don’t need health insurance. I don’t believe that my contract entails injuries to new limbs.

“Abyss, what can you tell me about your homeland?”

Oooh boy. I don’t think Mr. High-and-Mighty isn’t going like this story.

“It’s an… interesting land to say the least. Some buildings tower to the skies within the greater cities, though I live in a humble neighborhood where my feet were planted firmly on the ground.” That remark earned me a few… puzzled glances. I was a winged cat that was constantly on the ground, yet I flew like a pro. Me:1. Crowds: 0. “The general population contains some… less than desirable people, most of which are lacking in intelligence.” I replied rather coldly and unwillingly.
If there was anything that I knew about Earth, is that it was filled to the brim with morons and every kind of unimaginable horror. Wars fought for a small piece of land, or innocent people killed for petty possessions. It was a sickening planet; one that I refused to live on. I guess imprisonment in Equestria was better than that. Oh, and the internet. Can’t forget about the internet.

The king fell silent for a few minutes, pondering my response. I didn’t like where the silence was going.

“You seem as if you resent your people.” The ruler replied.

“Not all of them” I replied with my voice dripping with hidden bits of rage. “But there are most surely a lot of people I despise.”

The king let out a heavy sigh. I knew immediately where this was going.

“I am sorry, Abyss. As harmless as you may seem, and as benevolent as I may be, I cannot bend the laws for a single individual.” He replied with regret in his voice. It’s like he hated was he was about to do to me. “I am bound by a magic oath created by our ancestors millennia ago, and that oath cannot be broken, lest my kingdom suffer from the consequences. In one week’s time, for the crimes of trespassing on sacred ground without authorization by the king, you are to be thrown into the arena to fight for your freedom against twenty-three others.”

And like a sheep to the slaughter I am thrown. My legs gave way as I fell to my knees once more. My arms were weightless against my fear. I’ve always wondered what it meant to be so scared that you couldn’t move. Now I’m wishing that I hadn’t found out.

“Should you survive, you will be allowed to live among us as a citizen of this city. Good luck, outsider. May the sun guide you in battle, and may the moon give you wisdom.” Was the last thing I heard before the guards picked up my unmoving body as it began to drag across the wooden floors of the area around me. As the king grew farther from my position, I could’ve sworn I saw him mouth “I’m sorry.” before he left with his wife to who-knows-where. I didn’t resent him for condemning me; magic oaths are magic oaths. Break ‘em, and may God have mercy on you. He was simply doing his job.

My eyes began to scan the crowds as they passed me. Most of the population, which all looked the same might I add, with variations in wing color and facial markings, glared at me with dagger-eyes, obviously happy to see me being dragged to my demise, even though they had no idea who I was. A little too much like Earth, if you ask me. Although, I saw one face of pity among the crowds, belonging to a lone female (at least what I could tell was a female). She had the same face markings as I did, though flipped (as in the chin curves were at the top) and wore a single scarf of crimson fabric. She also wore a violet poncho with a navy blue wrap around her abdomen, covering her chest area. Heh, guess these wild cats- no! Bad brain! You do not have dirty fantasies about the natives when you’re being sentenced to an arena fight!
I didn’t think that this was the last time I would see her. She was too… mysterious to not see once more. I looked back to where she was standing to see if I could find her, though she had already left the crowds for whatever she had on her mind.

I’m taken to my cell by two armored guards, which is about thirty feet wide and fifty feet high at first glance. Plenty of ample room for my wings. The only hole is a grating above me, letting in strips of sunlight to provide me warmth. Said strips also hit the bars of my cell, which shimmer in the sunlight. Looks like there’s no breaking out for me. The guard on my left drags the door open, I’m shoved in by the other and hit the floor, spitting out dirt and gravel while I turn to find the sneering guards toss in my bag along with me. At least I still had that thing, and they hadn’t confiscated it. Probably an order of respect by the king to give me solace in what was supposed to be my final week alive.

“Good luck in the Arena.” One of them smugly remarks. “You’re going to need it.”

I angrily charge at the guards, but the grating of my cell is slammed shut before I can even law a minor cut on his skin. I let out a low growl in anger for his arrogance and cocky attitude. He’d make the perfect (note the sarcasm) marine back where I’m from, and he’d last about thirty seconds in a firefight. Sighing in defeat with a huff of frustration, I wander back over to my sling, which still has an arrow imbedded in it. Plucking it from the fabrics, I set it next to me as I unzip the pocket. And what do I find? A gaping hole, right in the middle of my iPod. And cue the incredulous stare of shock.

That was my one solace at night! I use that thing to get to sleep! And now it’s busted! Might as well kiss unconsciousness good-bye, because my mind will be PLAGUED with all manner of sub-conscious horrors. My REM Cycle is prone to nightmares, ergo my iPod. I angrily tossed the junk gadget aside, and it shattered against the wall in a heap of glass and metal. Digging through my pack, I was able to find my leather journal and my only pen, both of which were perfectly intact.

“So, what’re you in here for?” asked a voice from across the stone hallway.

Lifting my head, I found another prisoner, garbed in rags that covered his torso and legs. On his face, three claw-shaped marks of black curved on either sides of his face. His arms seemed bruised and cut while his face’s fur was mangled and unkempt. His wings? They were gone; plucked from his very back. I could still see small blotches of blood on the sides of his rags. Life had not been nice to this lonely soul.

“Accidental trespassing” I replied with as little emotion as possible. When chatting with prisoner’s that you may end up slaughtering, it’s best not to get attached. "You?"

“Espionage. When are you due for the arena?” The feline replied with the same demeanor.

“One week.”

“I’m due in minutes.”

“Well then good lu-“

“And I don’t plan on coming out.” He said, stopping me mid-sentence, and shocking me for about the tenth time in two days.

I stood up onto my legs, wandering over to the bars of my cell, my face pleading with question.

“What do you mean?” I pleaded.

“I mean I’m not coming out of there. I’m ka-put. Gonzo. Over and done with.”

“What, you mean you’re just… giving up?” I hoped and prayed his answer wouldn’t be yes.

“Well, what else, genius?” He replied with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Again, my jaw fell open with shock and sadness. “ But, but… what about your family? You seem like a nice enough man to have a wife waiting for you back home! What about them?” I was on the verge of tears. I was not a man for simply lying down to be trampled on, and this soul was an utter crime for the chance he’s being given.

“They’re dead.” He replied with his voice as cold as ice. Complete apathy was dripping from his maw. “They were killed a month before my sentence, just a few hours after my trial.” A single tear fell from his face while his eyes clamped shut to attempt to hide his sadness. “I didn’t see the deed be done, but you can bet that I heard their screams.”

A wife and children. That’s just cruel. My heartstrings were being played, sending a somber tune through the airwaves of my own consciousness. This man’s state of mind sang his story of loss, but I still wouldn’t let him throw his story away.

“Then fight! And win!” I shouted to the feline, stomping my paw into the stone floor of my cell. “Start a new life! Far away from this kingdom!” Another growl escaped my throat, demanding that this cat not simply let himself fall like the ruins that I knew of on Earth.

“I’m sorry kid.” The guards had already arrived at this point, opening his cell while the rusty bars creaked open. Like a puppet, the feline stood from his seat against the stone, the guards taking his arms and slamming the grating shut. “But this tired old fool has had enough.”

My incredulity returned as the three of them walked out of sight. My disbelief, however, was replaced with utter, uncontrolled rage as my head burst through the bars, my hazel eyes watching with anger as they carried the man to his doom.

“You coward!” I bellowed to the feline, who gave no response as the wooden doors at the end of the hallway opened, revealing a pure explosion of white light, before shutting once again to leave in the darkness.

And to my knees I sank again.

I pounded my fist into the stone, cracking the bricks that I knelt on while a tear stained the cement that held them together. Seconds later, the screams of the dying prisoner echoed through the hallways and cells of the barren pit.

“You fool…” I whispered, crawling back over to my back and picking up the leather journal, carefully holding the ink pen with my left paw.

Opening the book, I tore out page after page from the spine, shredding them to pieces of confetti until no more black markings remained on the paper. Uncapping my pen, I scrawled three words at the top left of the blank page.

Story of Survival

Closing the journal until need be, I drew my eyes back up to the sunlit grating, awaiting night’s beauty and chill.

Alright people, that’s it for chapter three. Don’t think that the wait between my time in the Arena will be too long. It’ll be here next chapter at earliest, the chapter after at latest. So please, bear with me, and don’t forget to leave comments on what you think. I just don’t feel like I’m writing at my optimal levels, so leave notes on what I could improve on. Laters!

Final Jeopardy (Theme)

Published 7/1/2012 by Ryan Christopher Adams

The sunlight had long since vanished from the hole at the top of my cell, letting in only total darkness within the confines of my prison. Not even the moon and it pale, pristine strips of luminescence kept me company in my solitude. The night was bone-chilling in its cold despair. My thin clothing, combine with my fur, was barely enough to keep me from freezing. I wrapped my wings around my body to try and keep my fur from developing frost on their tips. This was a whole new level of alone for me; now I knew how the penguins felt in Antarctica. At least they had each other for warmth.

What had I become? A groveling convict in the pit of his despair. I was sickened with myself, but now was not the time for self pity.

Letting my mind turn away from my growing depression, which I would have serious repressions for later, I turned my head skyward. Just the outer rim of the moon was visible from the limited vision of the grating. Still, no light came to keep me company. I sighed, taking my journal and pen back out to scribe an entry within my story.

Day 1

The night here takes no pity on the prisoners that lie lonely in tis darkness. My only cell mate met his demise hours before, leaving me to rot in sleepless insanity here in the stone walls of my cell. As my fatigue grows stronger, maybe my luck will find me again and I’ll simply collapse into unconsciousness, getting some wink of rest before the battle I’m to be thrown in. With any luck, the prisoners I’ll be facing will have little to no battle experience, and if that is proven to be false… I simply won’t think about it.

~BrokenSoldier. Falling in the Abyss

I finish signing the pen name that I always used back on Earth, closing the book and sliding it back into my sling with my pen. The bars within my cell begin to shimmer once more. I look up to find some solace in my madness. Moonlight is finally breaching the grating above me. Battered by the corrosion of fatigue and tiredness, I slowly wander over to the area of light pouring from above. I take a seat, cross-legged, and begin to do something that has always calmed me when my nerves are on the fritz.

Meditate. While no music was able to keep me company, the dull luminescence over my body would be sufficient enough. My eyes fell to a close, though sleep did not follow, as expected.

In, out. In, out. In, out I thought to myself as my chest rose and fell with each breath, letting the cool of the night waver around me, the heat having no effect on my body as I remained deep in thought.

Within the darkness, I began to see… shapes, forming within my mind, in the manifestation as strange runes and symbols. That instantly shot my eyes open with shock. Looking down at my hands, they remained the same. They weren’t glowing, nor did they have strange tribal markings etched into their fur. Just what was that? From what I could see from my time outside, the villagers didn’t exactly seem magically versed or gifted. So what was it?

“Oh, so close! Maybe next time, you just might explode from sheer anticipation!” proclaimed a voice, followed by a maniacal cackle with a few coughs from lack of oxygen.

I look up from my meditation to find… THAT FUCKING TEENAGER!

This guy had caused me to get an arrow to the wing, imprisoned in this hellhole, and a week away from being thrown into an arena! I WAS GOING TO SNAPE HIS NECK AND USE HIS SPINE AS A BACK SCRATCHER! Leaping with whatever force was left in my legs, flapping my wings as hard as I could just to get a finger on the grating. I fell a full twenty feet short of teen, who had begun to cackle once more as my body fell back to the floor of my cell.

“What did I do to deserve this?!” I angrily replied while chucking the shattered remains of my iPod up at the ceiling.

“Because” The teen replied, composing himself from his hysterical laughing. “I required a piece in this little… ‘game’ that I am playing.”

“And what side, pray tell, am I on in this ‘game’?”

“That, my dear Abyss, is all up to you.” With another snap of his fingers, the white haired teen disappeared in a haze of pale mist that shimmered in the moonlight, vanishing into the wind.

This was simply too much action for one night, and the soreness in my body was making that incredibly apparent. I decided that I should at least try to fall asleep and regain some of the energy lost in the day. Staggering back to a corner in my cell, I slumped down to my rear, folding my wings over my body as I slipped into what would be a restless night.

My mind decided to a dickhead once again, plaguing me not with visions that were horrifying. No; this time, good old Nightmare decided to hit an area close to home. Within my mind, my family, standing at the front door of my home, was weeping with the news that I had been shot and killed within the firefight by a police officer. My mother, sweet as she was, began to tear up, while my father and sister, as much of a jerk as she was, stared at the officer with the same incredulous look that I had worn so many times in the last day.
A flash of white light. Transition to my funeral. My entire family; my aunts, uncles, great-aunts, great-uncles, grandparents, cousins, and the friends that still held respect (or even remembered) me all came to pay their respects. I couldn’t take watching this anymore. I desperately wanted to wake from this dream, but my mind kept me shackled like the cell that I was contained in. Wait a second!

Another flash of light, and the depressing scenery of some random dude preaching my eulogy was gone, replaced by the expanse of the galaxies themselves. Stars lay strewn throughout the cosmos, while the formations of every galaxy imaginable formed and flashed past me as the universe passing me began to flash faster and faster.

*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*

“Hey, furball!” exclaimed a guard on the other side of the cell, fully garbed in the armor of the soldiers that had been worn the day before. “Wake up! I’m not paid to wait for you to eat this slop like the animal that you are!” He seemed to spit at the word “animal”. Guess that may be some kind of ludicrous slander in this world.

Groggily shaking myself awake from the beautiful lucid dream that was so rudely snatched from my grasp, I rose to my feet to receive a wooden bowl filled with a substance very similar to pig slop; brown with scattered bits of what I believed to be vegetables and different fruits. The liquid-ish substance was most likely some kind or old gumbo, and it smelled like rotten eggs cracked and sautéed in expired milk.

“Hope your stomach come up with your food.” The guard sarcastically remarked before walking back towards the doorway, letting the light from outside pour in for a brief second before I was returned to the scenery I was introduced to the day before.

Now I, for one, am an INCREDIBLY picky eater. Looking at this bowl of shit before me; I wanted to barf. But when you’re stuck behind diamond-encrusted bars and this is all you have to eat, you just learn to suck it up… and in. Lifting the bowl from the floor, I pinched my nose with my free paw, though I could still tasted the stench on my tongue. Yes; you can taste scents, and it’s not fun. With one final gulp, I began to pour the slop down my throat, letting it slither down my esophagus and into my stomach.

I gagged a few times before I had to catch my own vomit. I was lucky enough not to taste any of that gruel, but my stomach did not agree with it. Thankfully, I was able to man up and keep my innards from spewing themselves across my cell, though I shuddered as the hot acids of my vomit fell back down my throat. I officially had a new least favorite food. THAT SHIT!

Light began to pour back into the prison ward from the outside. The door had opened again. Who was coming? A visitor? The king? My… executioner?! In a troubled haste, I sprung to my feet, holing my left paw for swatting while I kept my right next to my hip, balled into a fist. Thank Celestia for martial arts. The doors leading into the hallway closed again, obscuring the light from the outside while a faint glow lay hidden in the distance. A candle, most likely, considering the orange luminescence of the light source.

Finally, the visiting form came into view, revealing the woman that I had seen the day of my sentence. Instead of wearing the threads I had seen her in the day before, her wore a white tunic, going only as far as her stomach. The outlines were lined with a bright golden fabric, and the article was tied at the back from what I could tell. Paired with the pale top was also a set of clothing that was oddly like shorts, though they hugged the legs and stayed loose at the waist. It was much more fitting for someone like her. Here wings, oddly enough, were neither black, nor white. Instead, they were a deep golden brown, much like on an African Wild Dog’s fur, though they were slightly smaller than my own.

“Hello? Abyss?” The feline replied with a voice that reminded me of Otulissa from the Guardians of Ga’Hoole movie, just without the snobbish accent to match. “Good.” She said, sliding the grating of the cell open and entering, carrying her candle in one paw and another wooden bowl in the other.

My muscles started to relax at the sight of the girl and I lowered my arms from their defensive stance. From what I could assume, she was probably here to treat my wounds or something. A healer, if you would. The feline sat down on the stone floor, setting her candle and bowl to the left and right of her before motioning me over. Taking a seat, I sat cross-legged before here. Aaaaand, cue the awkward silence.

I think it was a full minute before either of us said anything. Not to mention the fact that I had an overwhelming urge to say “Awkwaaaaard.” just to make fun of the moment. Finally, though, I chose to speak up.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking, miss…?”

“Remedy, please.” She replied sweetly. Fitting, considering that she’s (probably) a healer.

“Remedy, why, pray tell, are you here? Not be rude; I’m merely curious.”

The feline took a few leaves from the bowl that sat next her, telling me to eat a few, and that they would help in her healing. Boo-yah! I was right! Munching on the leaves, thankfully, took the horrible taste of the gruel out of my tongue, and left my mouth minty fresh, too! Then, something completely unexpected happened.

Remedy began to lean over to the slit within my wing, and before I knew it, her hands were glowing! And so was the cut in my wing! I nearly jumped out of my fur when I saw this, though the relief as I felt muscle begin to grow back was too much to simply ignore. This went on for a few more seconds before the session finally stopped, though my wing felt sore from the lack of healing properties prescribed (heh, alliteration).

“Remedy? What… was that?” I whispered in between pants of disbelief.

“A muscle growth spell, though with a little modification on my part.” She replied ever so calmly. “It’s a basic technique that all healers are to learn before they enter the field.” She turned to find me in my state of incredulity. “You seem surprised? Can you not use magic?”

“It’s not that.” I replied, regaining my calm composure. “It’s just that… your people never really seemed like the people that would use magic.” I hoped that she wasn't offended by the remark.

“I understand. Your only time to try and witness magic was when you were being dragged down here. All of our people have the potential to use magic, though some toss it aside in favor of skill in flight.”

So… maybe that was magic that I had been seeing. Note to self; meditate more and try and unlock these powers of mine… when the guards aren’t looking, of course. That would only bring my end that much closer.

Remedy began to gather her items again, heading back to the grating before I stopped her with a question.

“Remedy… just what are we? I mean, the species of your people and” I said pointing to myself.

“We have been known by many names” she said staring back to the wooden doors of the prison entrance. “Though we have, and always will be, the Baraq (pronounced Bar-Ok), the guardians of the skies.”

And with a loud screech the gates came back to a close. That stupid door was like nails on a chalkboard.

“I will be back tomorrow for another session.” Was the last thing Remedy said before leaving me back in the darkness of my cell to ponder my thoughts.

The hours slowly, and with enough boredom that I’ve ever been faced with in one year of my life, but the sunlight of day was eventually washed away by the chill of night once more, beckoning the moon and the stars along with it. The guard tending to my cell slipped me a final bowl of the deep brown sludge for dinner, and down my throat it went. The liquid still made me gag, but I think I was starting to get used to the gruel. But food meant nothing now. I had bigger fish to fry.

The moon stood over the grating that hung over my cell once more, filling the small square with its pale, pristine light. Sitting in the center of the overhead illumination, I let my eyes fall to a close as I let my mind cease in its stirring.

“In, out. In, out, In, out” began to replay in my mind once more. The symbols that had made their presence known to me the night before.
My eyes tracked each symbol as it went forward in my mind, and every time I would lose one symbol, another would instantaneously take its place. Words began to echo in my ears, not knowing their meaning, but somehow knowing what they stood for. Fire, flickering in the wind; water, crashing against the Cliffside shores of some far off land, boulders crashing into the sea from the erosion, and gales, scattering the petals of flowers into the skies of an emerald field. I could feel an unknown sensation coursing through my veins. It felt... powerful.

A bright light began to flood the hallways of prison ward. My eyes shot open, revealing a blinding series of flashes and blazing bolts that erupted from my pupils, my body gently floating just inches off the ground, though I had no idea that all of this was even happening. Through my sight, I was still seeing the infinite symbols and ever-increasing environments, completely oblivious that my body was releasing a massive explosive force of pure magical power. This happening can only be described as a Flare; a single singularity of uncontrolled energy being released at a single epicenter, ever-expanding in its range and ability.

A circle of night blue light began to form around my body, pulsating with each second that another ounce of energy released. Another ring formed, this one with a deep crimson luminescence, lines and patterns being etched into the ground, connecting the two rings. Golden flashes began to strike the scenery, creating a triple-shaded storm of light. More intersecting markings began to connect the rings to each other, while a circlet of pure emerald light began to form. The energy and light started to grow more powerful, burning brighter as the four rings began to float upward, losing their intangible forms and growing physical.

Each ring, midnight blue, crimson red, lightning yellow and emerald green, lifted themselves from the stone floor, surrounding my body before turning into different positions, much like an atom, where I am the nucleus. The midnight blue ring, horizontal in position, was the first to go into kinetic motion, flipping over my body while the others awaited their turns. Next, the crimson red circlet, vertical in position, bean to spin at a steady pace, making each revolution just as the blue ring made each flip.

Next, the lightning yellow ring, upward-left in position, began to revolve as well, making its full circle just after the crimson ring, but just before the midnight ring. Finally, the emerald green ring, upward-right in its position, began to final make it’s movements , as each ring began to act in perfect synchronization; perfect tempo; perfect rhythm. Their movements began to grow faster and more rapid, the light from the cell growing bright and more powerful, capable of blinding anything that came too close within its range. The rings began to shrink and converge, their individual lights fading into one of pure, pristine color, until the circlets vanished in a cross of blinding, explosive luminescence as my body began to fall back to the floor.

The light in my eyes began to fade away as my body came to rest on the stone floor of my cell, finally returning my orbs to their original state. My body, having taken too much excitement and energy for one night, fell to the floor in a fatigued pile of fur and feathers, while I enjoyed the sweet caressing of night’s gentle voice.

Three more days blurred by without any sudden change, or any freaky happenings to make my solitude even a little more exciting. I had been dropped into Boredom City. Population: me. I had begun to practice my newfound magical abilities, going as far as taking apart areas of the stone was and reforming them to using the air around me as my own personal drinking fountain. Fire had yet to yield itself to me though, as the most I could conjure was just as small wave of heat. Well, guess I can’t get everything in one day.

Remedy’s healing sessions were beginning to do wonders for my wing. The rest of the flesh had almost been replaced, though she said it would take two more days for the rest of the skin to reform and for my feathers to be replaced. Two days; just one day before my time in the arena. That looming though never left my mind, which was why I never ceased in my training, physical, mental, magical, and even emotional, in preparation for what was to be my greatest challenge that I’ve ever faced. In the limited time that I had, I was forcing my body to become nothing less than a stone-cold, unfeeling, unemotional killer, and that’s what I was going to need if I was to survive. Twenty-three other criminals, each more versed in this region’s terrain, the magical arts, and, if worse comes to worse, blade-to-blade combat, was what reality was throwing at me. Yeah, talk about a curveball for you. A curveball bathed in kerosene and burning with hellfire. I had some training in martial arts, with average skill with a sword, but I’ve yet to handle weaponry with my new body.

The familiar glow of Remedy’s candle as it shone in the dark halls of the prison ward arrived again. I had become accustomed to her healing sessions with me. On multiple occasions had I asked her about the history of the country that I had been imprisoned in. The country is just south of a territory owned by a large company of Diamond Dogs, though apparently, the land I reside in does not have a name. Remedy said that it had been “lost in the ancient sands of time and the smoldering smog from the fires of war.”

From what she had told me, the wastelands that I had been apprehended in, the specific areas known as “The Canyon of the Blackwings” and the nearby forest “The Labyrinth of Terra”, were the final battleground from a civil war that this country had partaken in some five hundred years ago. If this battle hadn’t caused the country to forget its name, I’d hate to say the war that did! Across the canyon, where nothing but dusty stones and searing heats lay, vegetation of all variety was fruitful and plenty. It was a dense jungle, filled to every brim imaginable with every species of flora and fauna imaginable! The war, however, had taken no pity on such a piece of Eden, and into ashes it flared.

“But, what caused the civil war?” I inquired Remedy just as she finished her story while she turned to gather herbs for another healing session.

The feline let out a heavy sigh, from what I could tell… was guilt.

“The past is the past, Abyss, and it is not wise to dwell on happenings long before.” She replied before I took the herbs as she began to work her magic (pun completely intended!).

Seconds later, and the rest of my wing’s flesh finally took form, leaving a small area where no feathers covered the healed wound. A smile of caring content formed on her face with the completion of her handiwork. Remedy gathered her herbs and candle once more, saying that she would return tomorrow to finish her work before the competition the day after. The grating of my cell slid open again with its now-familiar ear-shattering creak, and Remedy was gone with the candle being snuffed by the greater light from outside. I almost felt compelled to say “Don’t go.”

I was becoming soft. In my loneliness and solitude, Remedy had been there to be some kind of guide. I was becoming attracted to her, in a way that was unacceptable at a time like this. Turning my mind away from such sentiments, I began my magical control once more, beginning with the manipulation of water vapor, forming it into streaks of water that I could easily control.

The Next Night

It was another mental training session, coupled with pure conscious magical control. No motions; no words; casting with only thought. I was sitting in the center of an elemental ring, comprised of frozen, misting icicles, stones with dust emanating from them, small collections of gales, swirling like tornados, and wisps of low, dimly glimmering fire, wavering in their position. I hid failed to produce a flame of any size larger, and I had yet to find the cause of this.

Unfortunately for me, my concentration was broken by the all too familiar cackle of that white-haired teenager.

“What do you want now?” I begrudgingly asked as he hung from his ankles, swing to and fro while blocking the moonlight I adored.

“Oh, I just thought I might come and wish you luck before… you know.” He replied in his same oily voice, still swinging like a pendulum.

Allowing my elements to dissipate into the air, while the stones scattered to the walls, I flew up to the swinging delinquent.

“Why do you seem so sure of yourself? Aren’t you worried that your little pawn is going to be taken?”

Flipping himself over, the teen became half mist, sliding through the bars in his intangible state.

“I chose you for a reason, Abyss. You will survive. You’re too powerful not to.”

The teen began to go back into his fully mist form, already being blow into the wind.

“By the way, you never did tell me your name, did you?” I coyly replied, flashing a fang-glinting smile before the being left.

“Fracture”

The name whispered its way into my ear-drums, looping through my mind as it enticed my senses, its owner vanishing into the night winds. Its alluring caress echoed off the walls of my prison, reverberating from the stone that surround my being as I descended back down to the cold floors of the ward.

The name was just as misleading as the man that it was coupled with, and it kept my thoughts continually searching for more answers to the questions regarding the white-haired youth. My thoughts began to fade into dwindling mumbles, my eyes drooping to a close as night began to serenade me with its melody. And into slumber I fell.

The warmth of the daylight sun awakened my senses once more. The light was the same motherly feeling as it was just a week ago. It was a gift from fate; an act of sympathy into what tortures realm that I was about the thrust into beyond my will. Unfurling my wings and letting out a half-fatigued yawn, I began to pop each of my bones with satisfying results. Knowing that my overseers would arrive in mere minutes, I gathered my sling, strapping to my back while I awaited my escort. Three minutes later, the guards arrived to take me to the arena.

The creak of the grating sounded again, the door swinging open as I joined the guards, though they took no hold over my body. I was expected to act obedient in their presence, so they showed some level of trust by not forcing me into movement. The rusty grating screeched against the stone floors for the final time, and down the dark hallways of the ward we went.

Minutes later, we arrived at what would’ve been classified otherwise, had it not been the entrance to the Arena, as an armory. Four torches, each burning a twilight violet while all manner of supplies for a soldier lay strewn throughout the room. For some reason, I felt my magical energy incredibly drained, unable to properly even focus on it. Most likely, the room is enchanted to keep other convicts from busting out and going for a destructive night on the town.

To my left, a three-layered rack of weaponry stood, holding axes, polearms, knives, daggers, staves and swords of all shapes, sizes and make-outs. Each one, however, was uniquely brandished with a different gem. A powerful force, completely unknown to me, resonated from every tool cast on the wall. It’s like the weapons were… alive, for lack of a better word. They were speaking to me, but their words of choice weren’t exactly welcome.

To my right, different levels and varieties or armory and body armaments. Shields, breastplates, gauntlets and chainmail caught my eye, among other things, that were available to my complete disposal. Roman-esque battle helms, bushido shoulder guards, and spiked arm-guards that would make the Dark Knight green with envy.

Without a second warning, the guards left me with the three violet torches, and every bladed or studded lethal instrument in my paws. I didn’t know when I was to enter the arena, but I guess I would know when it happened. I began to walk to the right, wanting to be protected by my armor before choosing a weapon to pair it with. I began with my torso, as it is the most vital of areas to protect. I decided not to go with anything made of metal; I was a man of speed, not power, so I needed something that would allow mobility. I decided to go with a leather cuirass, much like the ones that Greek and Roman soldiers would wear

Slipping off my sling, my jacket, and my blue speckled shirt, I pulled the leather breastplate over my head, tightening the straps that held it in place. Moving my body around, simply testing the mobility of the armor with minor stretching exercises, the chest-plate proved to be mobile, forming to my body’s movements with ease. Moving down the line, I picked up a pair of tan hakama, the traditional pants of the samurai, tightening the loose-fitting garments with a onyx belt and buckling it with a golden emblem, designed as two wings with single sword going between them.

Picking up my supplies, I wandered over to the weapons rack, scanning the countless rows of furnace-created metals, each crying, bellowing and pouring their voices out for the desperate taste of blood and innards of the twenty three convicts that I would soon face. Though the each blade, staff, axe and mace was alluring enough, none of the tools felt… right in my paws.

“Come to me.” A light whisper began to speak in my head. I jerked my skull over to the end of the rack, only finding a single cloth hanging from the support pole.

“Come to me.” Voice said again. Like Princess Aurora, lost in a trance, I began to stride over towards the whispering vocals, not knowing what I would find.

The whispering kept playing again and again in my mind, and with each step I took, my heart rate began to rise. What would I find in the secluded corner of the armory? A prisoner? A lost soul? Or something far worse than both of them combine. Well, the only thing that I can think of being that horrifying would be Pyramid Head, but I don’t think he’d leave Silent Hill just to torture some random dude. He’s got too much beef with James to even put one foot outside the border.

As I reached within grasping range of the drape, the alluring voice in my mind was silenced. A lump in my throat formed from the anticipation. I swallowed it with a heavy gulp as my hand began to inch towards the cloth, trembling with fear under what might be hiding under it. With one final twinge of uncertainty, I took hold of the drape and tore it from the support pole to find…

The most magnificent weapon I’ve ever seen.

The armament was unlike anything else that stood on the wooden racks next it. The weapon itself stood blade-down. The blade was split into two parts, having a slit down the middle; the width of the blade, if put together, would be the equivalent of a European Longsword blade, though thinner, and sharper. The metal of the blade was a deep, midnight black; an unknown material that I had never seen used before. The surface of the blade shimmered in the violet light of the torches; it was at least three feet in full length.

Attached to the bottom of the blade was a two foot length of wood. Wrapping around the hilt of the weapon was an intertwining series of vine-like wood patterns, put there either for aesthetic reasons or for grip-enhancement. At the end of where the vines ended, the length of the rod went another half foot, the weapon being topped with a single, Briolette cut amethyst. The gem itself was at least one inch wide, clutched by four talons, while the spike stretched another inch from the base. It didn’t seem like it was mechanically set into the weapon; it was fixed to the base, like it was magically fitted. Like the gem belonged with it.

I took the magnificent staff in my paws, twirling it with expert dexterity, swinging it back and forth like a total pro. I had no idea how I just did that, but this was my weapon. The blade rung as it cut through the airwaves, like a tuning fork as it was hit against steel. This weapon; it made me feel calm. I felt… ready with this staff in my grasp. Suddenly, a set of doors at the end of the room, letting in exuberant amounts of warming sunlight into my view. It was time.

Looking back at the torches, I began to wander closer to the one nearest. I gave one last look at the supplies in my paws, letting my mind remember once more the fond memories I held onto as a human being. But sadly, it is not wise to dwell on forgotten happenings and tales of before. With a heavy heart, I cast my shirt, my jacket, and my sling into the twilight inferno, watching as they began to curl up like a deceased insect and smolder in the flames. I stared intently into the fires as the pages of my journal burned black with the stains of the leaking ink. My story was not going to be captured in the pages of a book. It was going to be imbedded into the minds and hearts of all who witnessed my history.

The time of the human that had lived in the United States of America was over.

Now was the time of Abyss the Baraq.

Whew, that was a long one! Well, you all know what comes next! And it’s going to be epic! To end this I’m going to leave you with a fun fact. The inspiration for the name of the species Abyss is a part of is a reversal of the words Aq-Bar. Aq-Bar was the emblem of the republic Tatarstan in Russia, who’s symbol was a winged snow leopard. Well, see you!

P.S: Kudos to whoever recognizes the reference in the weapon’s design.

Welcome to the Jungle, Baby!

Published by Ryan Christopher Adams on 7/4/2012

Stepping into the blinding surge of illumination that filled the outside world, I found my place in the Arena. The encampment itself was nothing less than dense jungle stretching unto lengths that were twisted and contorted. I had entered into a demented labyrinth, created by everything dark that lay within nature’s conscious. Towering trees broke through holes of a wooden dome placed over the Arena. I fired a series of icicles to test the integrity of the dome, though they shattered before impact. Magically enhanced, as another safety precaution placed for the combatants’ sake. Hundreds upon hundreds of citizens, eagerly awaiting the first cry of pain to be uttered and the first drop of blood to be spilled, sat outside the dome in towering viewing areas, as one would not want to miss a second of this ravenous and barbaric tradition. Vines laid twisted and tangled among the towering arbors, some creating nets that would act as a useful trap, while others hung freely, keeping me puzzled on what to do with them.

The Arena was colossal; looking to my left and to my right, I couldn’t see any of the other convicts’ gates, nor did I see them with their weapons or other such items. Even if I could see their gates, however, they would’ve more than likely already dashed off into the forest. This gigantic battle was going to go on for days, and I had a feeling that nothing was going to interrupt it. Not mutant creatures; not magic by any of my overseers on the outside of the dome; it was just me, the jungle, and twenty three criminals out to push my shit in. The village seemed to thrive on the bloodshed of convicts and those doomed to die. My eyes were drawn to the damp, moss laden floors of the forest coliseum.

They were stained, still darkened with the week-old crimson tide of life juices spilled by the cellmate I had such an invigorating conversation with. I pitied the old fool for his arrogance and fragility. The last moments of his life – how he stood in this very spot, awaiting his death and what he thought would be release from his cruelty – became a mirage before my eyes, showing itself to me in vivid vision. It was utterly pathetic. I could still taste the blood on the rotting logs where his corpse was stabbed and burned to ashes. It twisted my stomach with disgust.

By now the other criminals have probably left their gates, searching the forest for an unsuspecting victim or a possible ally, with which they would part ways with the traditional slitting of the throat. Weapon in hand, I set of into the dense vegetation of what would soon be my newest nightmare, patiently awaiting my opponents in the glorious clashing of our steel.

The twigs from fallen branches that hung above my head snapped under my pawsteps as I trekked through the undergrowth of the contained jungle, ever wary of my surroundings should I be met with my first opponent, and hopefully, not my last. A thin layer of swirling mists hung just three inches off the forest floor, sifting in its intangible form with every step I took. My ears twitched with rustling of leaves and scattered skittering of other criminals and any other insects or rodents that made this coliseum their home. My muscles locked and loosened with each new occurrence, my sanity, from what I could tell, slipping into paranoia. I was incredibly unprepared; I had only moderate control over three elements, the fourth still out of my grasp of true control, and while my weapon felt right in my hands, its weight outmatched its lethality; the metal it had been constructed with was far stronger than tempered steel, used to prevent any weapon that could match its blade-snapping capabilities. The momentum from each of my strikes in this battle would leave ever-opened for counter-attacks and coup de graces as well.

An hour passed, and I had not happened upon any of my fellow fighters. The airwaves were still being plagued by the maddening cracks and crunches underneath the feet of the creatures roaming this place of whispering death as it creeps along your shadows. I had been keeping myself refreshed by extracting the water from the mist above my ankles, but while hunger was not weakening me at the moment, this and many other factors rang in my mind while my vigilance still slipped into insanity. As my skull darted back and forth between different sudden happenings, my eyes caught sight of a strange sight indeed.

A stone, caught between the vines looped around a tree. The piece of earth itself was more like a boulder, and it seemed as if, in my descent into madness, that a piece of the boulder was moving back into the scenery.

Wait; that wasn’t my ever-growing insanity talking.

With adrenaline already being primed for the pumping, I dove for the nearest dome-breaching tree I could move to, rolling behind while a stream of arrows followed my path, five following my footsteps while two more became imbedded in the tree I took cover behind. Incredibly lethal with that bow; an assassin most likely, caught while trying to topple the kingdom and kill its monarch. No one else would be that skilled, or be able to fire arrows at such velocity.

I turned my head to look back at my assailant, and he still remained in the tangled web of vines. Either he had become stuck in the vegetation, or that was his master vantage point. Another odd notion caught my sight; the arrows that had been sent in a line following my dive had begun to fade into the air, leaving their impact marks while they vanished from my sight. This guy was more dangerous that I had first perceived. I had to be extremely careful with my next movements or I’d be skewered like meat on a shishkabob.

I began to gather the scenery involving the two of us, forming it in my mind as I started to formulate an attack, counter, defense and, if need be, counter-defense. I stood behind a four-foot wide towering tree, ten feet away from another, five-feet in width. My assailant hung at least fifteen feet off the ground from a two-foot thick branch outstretched teen feet from the tree’s main body. A direct assault was too risky; too much time for him to riddle my body with arrows. If I simply stayed hidden behind my cover, surely another convict would happen upon me and attack me, forcing me out of cover while the archer killed us both. This was quickly becoming a game of ranged weaponry.

“Maybe you should think less” The unsheathing of two steel blades hit my ears. “And fight more!”

I ducked just in time to avoid the dagger-end of his bow, which had been somehow hidden in the wood where the weapon had been strung. Ingenious. Stepping behind him and readying my staff, I noticed that the bow was dual-bladed, and double edged with its dagger-ends. I was in for a real fight today. The feline plucked his bow from the wood, readying his weapon just the same. He wore a loose, hooded tunic, stretching down to his stomach area. His face had been scarred with lacerations and burns; punishments before his condemnation in this forest. His wings, he had been permitted to keep, though for what reason, I do not know, but they were ashen gray, like ash or soot. The fabrics were a mixture of deep black and a muddy brown, bits of speckled gray thrown into the fabrics. His camouflage, obviously, and his wings were colored much to his advantage.

Paired with his tunic was a skirt of chainmail, covered once more with the same color-combination of fabrics. He wasn’t a man of protection, and why should he be? He was a long-ranged fighter, and only went of close if need be. The feline swung the bow at me again; I blocked with the flat end of my blade while he loaded an arrow into his bow. I instantly took my right foot back as his arrow was released, avoiding an injury that would have cost me my life. I took hold of his bow, pulling it from my blade and lunging for his jugular.

He ducks and weaves from the blade’s impact point, elbowing me in the ribs and sending a swift punch to my solar plexus. I’m now short on wind and recovering from my last swing. I’m easily open for an attack. He lunges for me with the front dagger-end of his bow, but I stop him with a quick freezing spell on his paws. I ready myself for another attack while he easily breaks the ice covering his feet.

He chuckles, entertained by what meager attempts I make at attacking the well trained archer.

“You can fight, outsider. I will give you that.” He says as he loads another arrow into his bow, pulling back the string as he prepares to fire. “But I can fight better.”

I see a glint in the corner of his eyes and I dive in between his legs, a trail of arrows following my path as I leap behind him, his back turned as he follows my movements, kicking him into the dirt and twigs while I regain my stance and prepare to charge. And finish him. One foot in front of the other, I dashed for criminal, planting my sword into the ground as I vaulted myself into the air, water forming around my wrists as I prepared another icicle. My body swirled around to find the assassin drawing another arrow into the string of his bow. I had to strike. Now!

Pulling my arm back, and praying for that arrow to miss my frontal lobe, I sent the shard of ice spiraling towards it target, satisfied when I heard the dripping of his blood and the gurgling upon the cretin’s death as he choked on his own blood. His demise, however, came with something that is always to be expected of two objects coming into sudden contact. Something that is to be expected in any and all scenarios.

Collateral Damage.

As the feline’s body fell to a unmoving, with the exception of his still twitching leg, deceased heap, so did his arm, releasing the string of his bow and sending the arrow barreling towards me. I was in half-spin, five feet off the ground, and the steel tip of the projectile was closing in on my skull. My body inched another few degrees, and the arrow slid over my face, leaving a laceration across my left eye as the blood began to pour from my open wound. I landed back onto the forest floor, clutching my wound as I watched the arrow continue its flight until it shattered upon colliding with the shield covering the Arena. The smell of blood filled my nose, both of myself and my victim.

Walking over to my staff, still embedded blade-first into the ground, I plucked it from the topsoil, keeping pressure on my leaking skull laceration. I wasn’t one for being knowledgeable in the practices of medicine, but thanks to television and movie previews over the Internet, I knew of a treatment for open wounds, at least one that I hoped would work. Unfurling my wings, I leapt skyward, taking to the branch in which my first kill had concealed himself. I balanced myself precariously on the branch. It shook and rustled with my nervousness and untrained balance. I was either going to land on my face and lose more blood, or get one of the leaves hanging on the end of the branch and lose less blood than required. Taking my hand off my wound, I flipped my staff onto the top of the branch, grasping the hilt with my two paws as I hung from the branch, now using my weapon for support.

I swung my leg, sending a crescent of air to be rid of the vines that hung from the branch, sending them to the forest floor while I propelled myself forward with a steady stream of wind. The gales kept propelling me until I arrived at the clump of leaves at the end of the extension of wood. I only had one shot at getting what I needed, so I had to time this- wait a second! What am I thinking? With my plan in mind, I slid my weapon down to where the blade was in contact with the wood, and cleanly cut through the branch, sending the bushel of vegetation to the floor while I slowed my descent with my wings.

Going back to the base of the tree, I sent my blade into its bark, plucking a slab of wood from the base. I hope that I can replicate the treatment; otherwise I’m going to be losing more blood that I’d want to. Plucking a leaf from its collection, I sliced another piece of the branch from the original to be used as a rolling pin of sorts. I laid the leaf down on the wooden slab, slightly soaking it with water from the mist as I began to roll out the sticky green substance from the leaf. It was working just as I had hoped it would. Carefully, I spread the substance around the edges of the leaf, and delicately handling my prescription, I laid the medicinal plant over my eye, letting the substance seep into my wound.

What did it feel like? Well, for the most part, just let dry ice melt on your arms, and you’ll feel the pain that my natural remedy caused. Why didn’t I watch Remedy more closely when she was healing me?! Gritting my teeth and wrapping my tail around my leg in agony, I managed to hold my tongue long enough for my seething pain to be replaced with sweet relief. At least I had closed the wound, for now. Looking back once more at the insect-attracting corpse, I set off again, trekking deeper into the undergrowth of this madhouse.

Another three hours had passed. To avoid being noticed, for now at least, I had hidden myself at the precipice of one of the trees a few miles west from Death-Zone One. No other convicts had crossed my path yet, though from the cries and shrieks that I had heard about thirty minutes ago, some had succumbed to those greater than them, or had found the body of the archer I had killed. Looking back at the corpse that was probably infested with maggots by now, I wondered whether or not I should hold any emotional guilt for taking the life of my opponent. He was a criminal; he had taken the lives of countless others, and was doomed to die in this coliseum. I was merely the herald of his judgment. I held no remorse for the ruthless assault that spilt his life juices across the forest floor.

“And why should you?” asked a familiar voice as he perched himself on the opposite branch. “I mean, like you said, he was a criminal, so what remorse is there to be held?”

I chuckled lightly to myself. “It’s nice to see you too, Fracture. Aren’t you above sneaking peeks at my thoughts?” I replied.

“Is it such a crime to care for your chess piece?” Fracture nonchalantly replied.

My fist began to curl itself in anger while my eyes were closing to a sneer.

“I mean, I am your patron, after all. It’s my responsibility to make sure that my knight is safe.”

Great; more labels. My teeth began to involuntarily grind against each other as Fracture continued to spew speech from his vocal-hole. I’m no dribbling infant that needs to be watched over every living moment of my life! I’m a living creature, for-

A rustling in the bushes below disturbed my train of thought as my head snapped below. Out of the growth came another warrior, clad in knight’s armor and wielding a claymore larger than my entire body. Behold, the Juggernaut of the Arena. I could not see his aerial appendages, leaving me puzzled on whether they had been forcibly removed or if they were being contained in his armor, considering the metal too heavy for practical flight.

“Uh oh. Seems like Mr. Muscle has arrived. Ta-ta, Abyss.” With that, Fractured disappeared back into the wind with his intangible form being wisped into the layer of fog below. Unfortunately, his overly-glamorous exit also caused “Mr. Muscle” to catch attention of my resting place. That little bastard!

While the juggernaut began to charge for the tree, I swung around to the opposite branch, using my staff and claws to keep a grip on the wood and not plummet down to the forest floor. Sprinting to the end of the branch, I took a leap of faith, diving off the end just before the armored warrior swung his mighty axe, cleanly cutting through the arbor and sending it tumbling to the ground. Not a single “TIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMBEEEEERRR!” was exclaimed that day, and I gave not a single fuck.

Now plummeting into close proximity with the mother of all heavies, I unfurled my wings again, slowing my descent (though it felt like getting jabbed with a log) and allowing me to grasp onto another tree limb, flipping myself onto the branch and turning back to find my pursuer. His speed had suddenly skyrocketed, as he was now charging for my new standpoint! He was obviously not pleased with missing his target! Heh; guess he really is the Juggernaut.

Before I had time to react, the armored behemoth had already plowed through my perch, giving me no moment to prepare myself as I began to fall back to the forest floor. My head frantically whipped around for a free-hanging branch or vine or something to support me. There, twenty-feet to my left, I found it. Now if I can just get it right. Concentrating on my target, I let loose a powerful stream of water from my palm, letting jet across the air and come into contact with the limb. Letting the stream calm, I wrapped it around the branch and froze the clasp, tightening my grip the main source as I swung down to the ground, rolling to soften the impact.

Quickly rising back to my feet, I did a double-take to check the status of the warrior. In his enraged frontal assault, he had become dazed from the collision, giving me just enough time to atta-

“Hey, I think I heard something!” came from the unseen distance of the forest. Other responses soon followed, differentiating in tone, frequency, and sound level. My ears twitched with each new uttering that traveled across the sound waves, and my face fell with horror upon realization.

An entire caravan was coming my way.

My mind was racing with every strategy that I could think of that would make me somewhat of a match against a group of five, maybe six, seven at maximum, warriors that were already beginning to converge on my location. And to top it all off, the living suit of armor was beginning to come back to his senses! Sweat was already leaking from my skull and dampening my fur while my mind had begun its descent back into paranoia. I was outnumbered; I was outmatched. I-I-

“Run” my instincts said, whispering in the back corner of my mind while the rest continued in its breakdown.

Deciding that my gut-plan was what would work best, I tightly gripped my staff and began to sprint like an entire army was chasing after me. As a precaution, I laid out a new layer of soil over the area that I had disturbed and covering my tracks. Into the dense fog I went, constantly watching behind me until I could see no further into the forest, securing my escape from the oncoming onslaught of warrior. Once I couldn’t see any further, I turned my head back to whatever was in front of me before leaving my feet and let my wings begin to carry me.

The scenery around me became a blurry haze of green, tan, white and gray, a new series of obstacles flying at my face at a thousand miles an hour while I tried my best to maneuver myself out of their impact points. I swerved, banked, and rolled my body to avoid coming into contact with trees, vines, and a series of scattered stones that wanted nothing less than to break my body. I looked back once more, checking to see if anyone was following me or if they had caught wind of my movements. Turning back around, I nearly ran skull-first into a fifty-foot tall tree, pulling my body upward and looping back to avoid a fatal injury.

Pangs of hunger were beginning to plague my body. All my extraneous actions had left me weakened and fatigued. If I remained in this state for much longer, I would become to open to attack, and I would meet my demise. I perked my ears to see if I could hear the rustling of any nearby creatures that I could feast on. No such animals made their presence known; either that or they were very discrete with their movements. I dared not lift my nose to try and scent out any edible vegetation. This was an unknown world that I was, with no knowledge of its plant life; what is and isn’t edible. Better safe than sorry.

Reluctantly, I took another swig of water from the fog that hung at my ankles. Down my throat the liquid went, my stomach churning with disgust at the taste of nothing on my tongue. A human could survive for at least a month without food, as long as he had water. Hopefully, the same applied to the Baraq. If not, I am hosed. While my hunger issues had been solved, for the moment, my body was in dire need of a break from the constant movement in the arena. Taking a hold of my staff, I thrust the blade into the bark of another tree, setting my right paw upon it as I dug my left-hand claws into the bark. Using my free hand, I lunged for a higher placement, releasing my starting grip and using my magic to remove my weapon from its wooden casing.

The staff shot up like a firework , right into my paw as I used the remaining momentum to embed into the wood once more. Sheathing my claws, I gripped the hilt of the weapon with both paws as I swung myself back and forth on the wood. With enough power in my swing and using the remaining strength in my arms, I released my hold of the staff, flinging myself into the air and landed on another branch another ten feet up, with a triple back-roll to top it all off. And I stuck the landing! Eat your heart out, Shawn Johnson!

Using my magic again, the blade of my weapon slid from its arbolian sheath and levitated back into my paws, where I promptly stuck it in the tree another three feet above me. I’m fickle like that, aren’t I? Noticing that my leaf would probably need replacing, I began scanning my surroundings. I saw a bundle of vines hanging from another branch about five feet up and three to my right, with a plethora of leaves hanging just another foot in front of them. I easily severed the vines with a quick burst of wind, while I had to use pinpoint accuracy with an icicle to sever the leaf, catching the supplies with another levitation spell. This magic was beginning to be a corrosive action on my body’s mental limits. I had not fully comprehended the inner machinations and causes of the inner power of a single being, and concentration and control, while still in my grasp, was beginning to slip.

Starting with the leaf, I peeled the current one, set over my eye, off of its resting place before throwing it to the ground Feeling the skin above and below my eye, I noticed that the bleeding had stopped, and that fresh plots of fur were beginning to crop up. However, a disturbing revelation hit me when I finally opened my left eye.

I was blind; my left eye had been permanently disabled by the arrow. Well, it’s not like I needed it? I could still see fine, but this would become an annoying hindrance in detection and my peripheral vision. My time in the Arena was only going to be that much more of a challenge.

Bringing the vines back to my grasp, I positioned myself on the branch I stood, taking a seat on the wood as I began to knot the vines around my body. If I was going to rest, I would need a viable way of securing myself so that I didn’t plummet back down to the soil and fall into the paws of whatever warrior happened upon me. Finally secured, I took one more swig of water from the moisture around me before wrapping myself within the comfort of my wings and letting unconsciousness take over.

I woke to the sound of rustling down on the forest floor. Looking up from my slumber, I noticed that night had fallen. The stars had already been strewn across the sky, the moon gracing the Arena with its splendor.

However, its pale, pristine splendor had been replaced by a grim omen on the midnight canvas.

Instead of the white beacon that the moon typically was, the full moon above me had been flushed Harvest Red. It was a terrible omen of blood and death approaching. I was in danger, and I had to move. Unfurling my wings, I froze the moisture around my at a single point in my paw, creating an ice knife in my grip as I began to saw through the vines that held me in place. The vegetation snapped in seconds, freeing me from its grip as I took to my feet, taking hold of my weapon after plucking it from its sheath.

If there were any other convicts, they were most likely the people that had disturbed my wonderful slumber. It stood to reason that I should travel on the ground rather than in the trees, as my movement would create a greater disturbance. My eyes began to dart from tree limb to tree limb as my body followed in perfect time, keeping a steady beat in my descent back to the forest floor. Lading back on the firm ground and readying my staff for any oncoming attack, my head began to slowly scan the surrounding scenery. My cat-like vision was certainly one of my more preferred assets, other than my wings of course, as it allowed me to see in complete darkness; a feat impossible for standard human eyesight. With my vision impaired, however, I lit a small flame in the palm of my hand; the one thing that I could do with fire.

Nothing dared approached my position as my head continued to swivel, taking in every detail of my area. Five trees, three bushes, the rest of the area empty ground. The fog that had hovered over the ground this morning had dispersed. I heard the snap of a branch behind me, and instinctively swung my blade, releasing an icicle at my target. I heard it impact with *thunk*. It had most likely impacted a tree, but I was about to be, unfortunately, corrected.

I saw a flash of light from where the icicle had traveled, a burning ball of fire soon taking its place as I rolled out of the inferno’s path. I had been followed, and my assailant wasn’t alone. Either that or my small fire, now extinguished, gave me away. Rapid footsteps began to come from behind me as I detected the ringing of a blade cutting through air. I swung my staff back around, blocking the edge of short-sword that would have cleaved my skull in two. Looking up at my attacker, I noticed that something was very wrong with him.

His eyes were blood red, and anger dripped from his maw as his teeth seethed in rage. Something was not right with him, and it wasn’t his fault. I kicked my opponent away, causing him to stumble and ready for another strike while his partner came from the shadows wielding a wooden shield and the same bloody tint in his eyes, and battle axe in his free paw. Soon after the first two had revealed themselves, three, no, four more soldiers had come stepping out of the darkness, and each wielded a different weapon. One a dual-bladed staff, much like my own; one a humongous claymore, almost as large as he was; one a stunning rapier that begged to pierce my flesh, and one dual-wielding sabers, curved with an excellent finesse. They all had the same disturbing glare of red in their pupils, and a look to kill burned through my very body. This was something straight out of a horror movie, and I was the unfortunate victim caught between a psychopath and a wall.

“Do you like what I’ve done with them?” asked an unknown voice from the darkness. His tone was soaked in sinister intentions and dripping with malice. The man was a serial killer, and a very experienced one at that. This was his domain, and I was the unfortunate rabbit that had walked into his trap.

I merely let out a low growl of disgust as a response. Full body control; a sickening and vile spell. I reeked with the deaths of a countless array of his other victims.

“The ‘Your Blood, My Blood’ spell. An excellent edition when you don’t want to get your paws dirty.”

Each of the brainwashed felons began to inch closer and closer to me, readying their weapons to strike and pierce my body.

“Destroy him.” the voice of my attacker ordered, and like dogs, the soldiers of the murderer attacked.

The one wielding the shield was the first to come at me, twirling his battle axe as a first strike. I side-stepped to avoid the blade, bringing my own down to try and sever the axe-head from the hilt. My assailant countered by turning his weapon, stopping my blade short with the flat of his axe, following the block up with a smack from his shield. The blow left me dazed, allowing the axe-wielding felon to charge me. Recovering as soon as possible, I readied myself again, sweeping the ground just as my attacker was to strike, knocking him to the ground. To avoid being open for a finisher, however, the warrior rolled, using his shield to assist him as he leapt back to his feet. The more competent warriors had come out now; the archer was made for long range, and I was incredibly outmatched.

While my current opponent readied himself again, the one with the rapier charged my from behind. It was only thanks to my ears that I was able to parry his thrust, kicking him back and sending an icicle in his direction. The pike, however, only grazed his skin, as he used his momentum to pull off a back-handspring and dodge my missile. The convict with the axe charged again, swinging his weapon down as I struck it aside, using the momentum to stab the shield in his free paw. I could hear the cracking as my weapon embedded itself in the defense of my opponent; I had successfully broken his hand, and quite possibly his arm. Using this advantage, I sent my fist straight into his face, dazing him again while I plucked the axe from his hand and brought it down upon his skull. It split like a pumpkin as his blood began to fill the forest. One down, five to go.

The warrior with the rapier and the feline with the sabers charged me in dual-attack formation, the first thrusting his weapon at me while the other waited for an opportune moment. I parried the blade again, only to be met with two curved weapons about to decapitate me. I spun to dodge, earning me a nick on the back as I thrust my weapon forward, cutting the saber-wielder’s left arm. He charged again, swinging both from above me as I blocked with my blade, kicking up dirt with my legs and blinding him for the moment. Using this, I stuck his right sabre from his paw and took hold of it, slinging him into his partner and sending them both tumbling into each other. To finish them off, I sent my staff screaming forward like a spear, hearing its cry for blood as it impaled their bodies, leaving them weakened as they convulsed on the forest floor, their life juices pouring from their bodies.

Three down, three to go.

Before I could continue my assault, however, the ground began to shake with unimaginable force. My body almost leapt into the air with each crash, and out of the darkness

Came the Juggernaut.

This was a lost fight; I couldn’t handle three more competent warriors and a hulking, armor wearing behemoth! With this in mind, I did the only thing that I could think of.

I ran. I ran into the swirling darkness of the night, not caring if my attackers followed or not. I had to get away, just to buy me enough time to formulate a strategy. I had to get away

Or my life was over.

Well, that’s it for the first day in the Arena! How’d you like it? Leave your comments and reviews in the comments section, as they are appreciated! See you guys next chapter!

IT'S ALIIIIIIIIIVE!

Number of Combatants Remaining: Twenty

The four remaining warriors and their cruel, calculating master in the darkness stared onward with adamant expressions on their faces. The three unarmored convicts turned to their master, his eyes glowing a sickly demon green in the dead of night.

“Go” his voice spoke from his place in the undergrowth. “Pursue him, and bring him to his knees. I want him at my feet, or your skulls dripping with blood. There is no place for failure in my ranks. Is that understood?” the feline spoke with malice dripping from his voice at the last uttering.

The three warriors slowly nodded their heads in a hive-like compliance, slicing the vines that hung from the trees and strapping their weapons to their backs. With their goal in sight and reckless indifference for their own lives in flowing through their blood, the retrieval squad took to all-fours, sprinting into the forest to achieve their objective. The armor-wearing behemoth let out an inaudible growl of annoyance, turning back to watch as his colleagues darted off towards the prize that he desperately wanted to claim himself.

“Do not worry my pet.” The mastermind replied with his voice dripping with cunning as his mind began to piece together another plot. “You will get your chance soon enough.” He finished as his demon-green eyes slipped into the pitch-black jungle, the Juggernaut giving one final glance before following him in suit.

My legs moved without question, running on their own physical capacity while adrenaline flooded my veins with every second that passed, pumping ounce after ounce into my arteries, just to try and get away from my possible executioners. I leapt, slid, flipped and slashed my way through every inch of anything that dared throw itself at me. Boulders, fifty-foot tall trees, roots that I swear had been planted simply for the act of tripping people and even an unlucky hornet’s nest (not even to try and explain that one). The world was moving a thousand miles an hour, and the first thing I was worried about was what was about to pop out in front of me next.

My stayed on a constant swivel, scanning left, up, right, and directly in front of me, staying constantly vigilant to be prepared for the assailants that I was sure that were already in pursuit. All they needed to do was-

*Crack*

Speak of the devil. Three of them, one to my left, one to my right, and one on my six, from what my ears could tell me, were on all fours and glaring at me with stares of pure malice and malcontent. They were going to gut me like a fish, keeping up with my mad dash for safety and even passing me with the assist of sprinting on all their limbs. I kept my attempt to escape their clutches up, maneuvering my way onto branches and propelling myself forward with every chance I could get to shake them off my trail, or at least get a leg up in this forest chase of ours.

Before I could even say “Lost ‘em!”, I found myself with the ground suddenly disappearing from under me and my body hurtling through the air. One of those slick bastards had tripped my up with a wind hurdle, one that I couldn’t detect. Losing my sense of mobility, along with my weapon, which was now sliding across the forest floor, my body spun to its side as I tumbled across the dirt and moss, kicking up soil before colliding with a tree thirty feet from my dismount. My cuirass may have softened the impact, and kept my ribs from cracking and very possibly, but I would be heavily bruised from the blow. I staggered to my feet, dazed from the attack as I tried to regain my bearings before my assailants could rush me.

Up back on my feet, balance regained and reflexes primed to give a good punch to the face, my eyes shot to my spear, ten feet away with my pursuers closing in on it at a rapid pace of acceleration. Without another thought, my legs began to run on their own again, sprinting to reach my staff before my assailants could lay their steel across my skin. Within seconds, the troop of convicts had closed in on me, though I skillfully spun myself, wings expanded, to send them flying over my head. Back on my feet and armed once more, I prepared myself as my fellow opponents drew their weapons as well.

Silence made its presence before us; us wayward souls and fallen heroes, forced into condemnation by our own selfish actions. Our life had become our undoing, but I’ve got a score to settle before my bucket gets punted. I stared intently into the eyes of my pursuers, the blood-red stain still evident in their pupils. The only light provided was that of the harvest mood, eager, just as the crowds that watched us, to see the next drop of blood be spilled across the forest. The first, the feline wielding the dual-bladed spear, approached me, twirling his blade as he poised his body, ready to strike. It was an invitation; he was going to give me the first attack. Graciously, I began to nonchalantly walk up to my first opponent, gripping my weapon tightly in preparation for my assault. One foot away, I swung my blade, knocking his spear into the ground while sending my fist into his maw.

Expertly, he dodged the blow, spinning around me and knocking his wing into my side. Upon impact, my body fell short for wind, as if I had collided with a metal beam. His wings had been armored; specially plated for pure combat, to use as a weapon, and an extension of his body. Plucking his spear from the earth, he proceeded with a horizontal strike, which I barely managed to block with the flat end of my blade. To counter, I swung my staff upward, repelling his spear and landing a cut on his jaw. I scrambled back to my feet, the wound on my back beginning to take its toll.

Wiping the blood from his jaw, the spearman rushed towards me, going for a quick thrust, which I side-stepped to avoid, and following that up with another slash with the opposite blade. I ducked, thrusting my blade forward, having it parried by my opponent who sent his blade barreling towards my Carotid artery. If this attack hit, this fight was over. Fear about to swallow me, I sent my blade skyward, knocking his strike out of alignment as a shallow cut made its way across my face. Before my opponent could do anything else, I talked him to the ground, knocking his weapon out of his grip as I took hold of mine with a line of water.

I felt my hand wrap around the hilt of my weapon, only to have it fly out of my grasp with a double kick from my assailant. As I rolled back onto my feet, my opponent sprung backwards, taking hold of his spear before rushing me again. His blade swung at my arm, though stopped short when it came into contact with a wall of ice, one that I had barely managed to conjure. With another stream of water, my staff returned to my grasp, and wanting to end this fight as quickly as possible, I thrust my blade into the body of my attacker, watching with sadistic delight as his blood began to drain out on my body.

Throwing the corpse of my body, I stood to my feet, fur soaked in crimson liquid and breathing heavy with feral rage. The grip on my weapon tightened with my ferocity, and an ear-shattering roar exploded from my maw, my body trembling with an untold and unimaginable power coursing through my veins, mixing with the adrenaline and leaving me in absolute control.

The beast had been awakened.

I charged for the one with the short-sword; about the size of a Roman gladius, though an extra foot longer due to proportion. I sprung for my next victim, bladed staff in my right hand and the claws from my left hand unsheathed, both crying, screaming for the precious taste of the next drop of blood. My blade thrust itself downward, wanting to cleave the body it sought clean in two, though was stopped dead in its tracks when a certain short-sword decided to jam itself in the indention between the blades. The holder of the sword looked into my eyes with his burning pupils, carrying the same rage that I held against him before thrusting my staff away and slamming the flat of his blade into my skull, dazing me as I stumbled backwards.

I readied my staff again, only to find that my assailant had vanished from the fray without any warning or any notification on where he had gone. With a sudden ringing in my ears, I was brought to my knees with a sudden blow to my back, and knocked onto my rear end with what felt like an upward strike to the bottom of my jaw. Writhing in pain, I took to my paws and knees, my body groaning and creaking with pain as I struggled to try and get back onto my feet. I coughed up a few drops of blood, my breathing still heavy, though this time with incredible fatigue. I felt my weapon against my fingertips, taking a trembling hold of it before I was knocked onto my back once more, a miniscule stream of blood flowing from the side of my jaw.

My body squirmed and struggled, my limbs flinging themselves in every direction and my wings whirling up dirt, moss and wood as I my body stayed pinned to the forest floor. Black feathers and gusts of wind create a miniscule crater around me as the feline wielding a claymore begins to chuckle at my useless endeavor. His laughter seemed twisted, purely demonic even; another voice rang out with his, forcing my blood to run cold with unadulterated fear and anxiety as my eyes dilated with the horrors of what could emerge next coursing through every fiber of my consciousness.

Another low chuckling of the same hellish nature began to ring out in unison with the claymore-wielding convict, though from where the voice was coming from remained unknown. A light gust of wind began to swirl over the area above me, whirling into a miniature tornado as it wrapped around an unseen form. Within mere seconds, the tornado exploded forward to reveal the feline with the short-sword, standing above me as he continued his devilish chuckle. I barely managed to keep a hold on my weapon with fear and fatigue replacing my blood and oxygen. The chuckling suddenly stopped with the arrival of a scowl on the face of my oppressor. Without another second of warning, his free paw instantly snapped to my throat, clenching it with enough force to crack my vertebrae as he lifted me from underneath him, sapping away whatever oxygen and energy my body still had.

“Come on, whelp. Strike me down, like you did with the rest of my pack.” Spoke my assailant as his hold on my throat began to tighten, cutting my air levels mortally short. My eyes had already begun their slow roll into the back of my skull. “Go on! Take that blade of yours and slit my throat!” the feline began to bellow as his twisted voice echoed into the blood-lit night of the Harvest Moon. “Aren’t you going to spear me with that staff of yours? Just. Like. THIS?!”

A scream of agony replaced the fury-ridden exclamations of the man clutching my body as he dug his cold-surfaced blade into my body, ripping past my armor as it burst through the opposite end of my body, fresh crimson liquid dripping from the tip of the blade as my screams grew louder, draining more oxygen from my body as my fluids began to drip onto the forest floor.

“Come on, Blackwing!” the feline said as he twisted the blade in my body, tearing away at my muscle and internal flesh. “I’m waiting for you to finish me off! Finish me off! Kill me already!”

And with that final exclamation, his hand fell limp, only to rise to his neck as it clutched his Jugular, desperately trying to stop the blood from flooding out of his neck in absolute futility. His grip around my neck loosened almost immediately, dropping me back to the ground as I began to ferociously cough up saliva mixed with blood, draining the (amazingly) still-remaining energy in my system. The bleeding feline that I had fatally wounded stumbled backwards before falling to the ground, convulsing with blood loss before his the light in his eyes faded, leaving a still bleeding corpse in my wake.

My body trembled with my weakness. My vision began to blur and randomly blacken. Staggering to my feet, I took hold of the short-sword embedded in my abdomen, screaming as loud as my vocal cords would allow before tearing the sword from my ruined armor, granting me relief from the cold steel still dripping with blood. Looking up, I saw the final warrior, a smug smirk across his face as his grip tightened around his Claymore. I couldn’t fight this guy head on. I was far too weak, and any attempt would end with my ultimate execution.

Standing as adamant as my broken body would allow me, I held my left paw up in defense, taking in a breath of calm before staring at my opponent with pure anger, ready to finish this fight. With a cocky chuckle, the Claymore of my opponent hit the ground as the he began to go into a sprint, dragging his colossal blade behind him as the metal screeched against the dirt and wood. Three feet away, the feline’s blade rose above his head, arcing in a red-flushed light as it shone against the moon, acting as the executioner’s ax in this far cry from a long night of solace. The feline took one final step, swinging his blade down to my body, wanting to cleave my being clean in two. As the blade came down, my body flashed in a haze of crimson liquid as my right paw threw itself forward, clenching the throat of my attacker as my claws dug into his flesh, drenching my paw with blood as it spewed from the wounds I had created.

With the twitching of my newest victim’s leg coming to an abrupt end, my claws cleaved the esophagus of the deceased feline, slashing his flesh as his body fell to the ground, covered in the blood of his allies and even my own. With the absolute power of my enraged outburst fading, my vision began to blacken once more as I stumbled backwards, slumping at the trunk of a nearby tree. Fatigue was beginning to drown me, as keeping my eyelids from coming to a close became an increasingly difficult challenge.

My body decided to disregard my mental orders, as my eyes fell to a close as the paradise of unconsciousness washed over my weakened being.

I swear I heard "Fatality" echo through the airwaves as darkness washed over my body.

“Hey! Sleeping’ Beauty! Wakey wakey eggs n’ bakey!”

An unknown voice began to ring in my ears with a tone that, while entertaining, was incredibly annoying. I instinctively swatted at wherever the noise was coming from to try and force it to stop.

“Nice hustle there kitty kat. Maybe if you’d have moved faster, then your ass wouldn’t have been toasted!”

“Oh, shut it.” I replied rather begrudgingly.” The guy was invisible. Cut me some slack, why dont’cha?”

“Umm, hello? You’re a cat. Super hearing’ and all that jazz? ‘Sides, you swing me around like some sort of over-hyped piñata stick. You really need to work on your skill with a spear Mr. Cuddlesworth.”

“Says you!” I spoke a little louder, trying to pry my eyes open from the state they had fallen in under my fatigue. “Who are you to talk? And what do you mean by ‘you swing me around’?”

“Welp, for starters, I’m that giant glowy thingy. You know? Your spear? Yeah that thing. Second off, watching you fight is like watching a little girl shake a spider off a stick.”

Not wanting to put up with this pathetically annoying bolstering from the source of this voice, my eyes shot open with rage, only to shoot open even wider with shock at what... floated, before me.

“Hey! Look who finally decided to show up! Welcome back to the land of the living, Snow White.”

About two feet in front of me, and another foot up, a bright purple falcon flapped its seven foot (seven feet each) wings, their undersides flushed from all color, stained a pristine white. His chest was a deep violet, one that would see at the closing of twilight, while a lavender-shaded, diamond-shaped crest was imprinted on his chest.

“Hey, tons-of-fun, daylight’s burning.” the falcon replied with the same annoying tone in his voice. “I didn’t patch up that hole in your stomach for nothing, you know.”

“Wha, what are you?!” I replied incredulously. What? There’s a purple falcon, that is glowing, by the way, floating above your head, berating you for failing in an over-challenged fight. What’s your response going to be?

“Welp, my name’s sort of long, kinda forgot it a couple eons back. But from what I can remember, it goes a little something like this: The Remnant of Dusk, Monument to the Great Beyond and House of the Black Flight. Just call me Remnant though.” He replied with a smug smirk across his face. This guy was cocky, crude, and above all, a smart-ass. The universe decided to throw at me for another bout of shits-n-giggles.

“Alright, I’ve got a lot of questions, and I know that I don’t have time for all of them to be answered, so I’ll start with the simplest question: what are you?”

The falcon stopped for a moment. “The closest thing that can come to your comprehension? A weapon. The truth’s a bit more complicated, and by that I mean hugely complicated.”

“Please” I replied with my own smug grin. “I’ve seen things that would twist your mind in three-thousand different directions. Hit me with your best shot.”

“Alright then.” He replied, a look of ‘okay, okay. I got this.' On his face. “I was forged from the blood of the great Azure Before Night, the entity that was responsible for creating the very ground on which you stand. My creators took its life’s blood, the blood of the stars and imbued it with steel, giving it the properties of the Great Ether and The Beyond. Hence my name.” His cocky grin returning.

“Is that why I can’t properly swing you?” I replied with my own smart remark.

“Please, enchanted metal’s the lightest of materials used in forging weaponry. You couldn’t swing a stick without somehow slapping yourself in the face.”

This guy was really starting to annoy me. I had plenty of muscle! This guy was... okay, so I wasn’t the most muscular person in my sophomore class...

“Continue.” I grumpily replied while crossing my arms, again annoyed by the falcon above me.

“Hold on. Lemme think about this for a sec. My memory’s not what it used to be.” He replied, furrowing his brows. “If I remember correctly, I’ve seen King Chronous writhing in the pits of Tartarus. I’ve seen the evils of the people of R’Lyeh. I’ve been at the peak of the world, and no that’s not a mountain. The actual peak of the world overseeing the three deities: Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma. Oh, and let’s not forget the Battle of the Downs. That was gruesome by all accounts.” He began rambling on, bringing up point after point of information that, while seemed completely incoherent to my original question, intrigued me beyond anything else that I had read. Fiction writers had nothing on this guy, whoever and whatever he was.

“Though I think by far the worst thing that I’ve ever come across was-” he stopped, blinking three times as flashes of light reflected in his pupils. “The worst thing.....humm.....what was it again? I....can’t...I can’t seem to remember.” He grew thoughtfully silent, grey eyes clouding over.

“Um... Remnant?” I spoke up, trying to continue this recollection of the amazing and quite startling history as it ran year after year in the speaker’s mind.

For a while he didn’t speak. But when he did, it was somber, dark and foreboding.

“Ravencroft. That’s...all I can remember...Ravencroft.”

There was something about the name that he mentioned. It reeked of death and ominous memories, plagues, and the screams of agony of a plethora of tortured souls.

He snapped up from his reverie, “Well, how’s that then hotshot? Anything worse than that?”

I chuckled at his assumption. He had no idea about what had happened back in the world of my origin. “Ever heard of the Trinity?” I smugly replied, knowing that he had no idea about the horrors of world-destroying weaponry.

“Mmm, no. What’s that? Some sort of spell or something?”

“No. The Trinity is something much, much more dangerous than any spell or conjuration that can and ever will exist. The Trinity was nothing less than an event that very well could’ve caused the Apocalypse. I’m lucky that the result of the groups involved didn’t inadvertently cause it.”

Remnant frowned. “Something worse than a spell? I doubt it. You ever had someone cast the Boglung spell on you? I mean seriously, I felt like one of those Hookah chain-smokers for a month. That was nasty.” He shuddered

“Try lying on a steel slab, slowly coming to an end as your body destroys itself from the inside out, turning your organs into an intangible liquid while your brain is fried to the point where your speech becomes incoherent babbling.” I spoke, obviously angered as I rose to my feet. The threshold of disaster that the Atomic Bomb held angered me and sickened me to my core. It made me hate the fact that I was still part human.

As I rose however, something stopped me. For a moment, I saw this look of forlorn sadness on his face. “Why would anyone do that?” He asked, awestruck by the twisted nature of the effects of radiation.

“It wasn’t even something that the designers of the weapon wanted. It was just another aspect in battle to be expected. Collateral damage.” I spoke with a somber tone, as I too was upset by the fact that so many people, and countless others, had to die by the effects of such a destructive and unforgiving side-effect.

“I have become death, the destroyer of worlds.” He spoke quietly, almost too softly for me to hear. But I heard it nonetheless. The shuddering quote of the scientist that had succeeded in creating the most feared object known to man.

“Wait a minute, how do you know that?” I asked, knowing that Remnant had no clear indications that he was in any way related to Humanity.

He paused for a moment. “What?” He asked innocently, almost defensively. “Just something that popped into my head when you mentioned that.”

I looked at him with a puzzled face, raising an eyebrow in question before calming myself to continue this conversation. “Alright, with all this backstory, you still haven’t answered my question. Just what are you?”

He rolled his eyes. “In short, a weapon. In long, a-” he cut himself off, eyes growing wide before furrowing again. “In long, I’m a...a ...okay that is odd.....I...don’t really know.” He offered, going from befuddled to downright confused.

“So you mean to tell me, that you” I replied, pointing one of my free digits at the glimmering avian. “Are this?” I replied, picking my spear back up from the floor. It was completely clean from the blood that had run down its edges the night before.

“From what I can recall...yeah.” He replied nonchalantly. “Odd, why am I bird anyway? Last I can remember I was a horse. Before that I was a dragon. Now that was fun, going down and scaring the villagers witless. You should try it sometime.” He continued, rambling on again about a history that made absolutely no sense.

“Alright, next question. How did you, this apparently super powerful being, get trapped in my weapon?”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I told you already, I was forged with the blood of the Great Azure, magically imbued in a weapon and then I-” He stopped again, this time anger on his face. “Dammit this is getting annoying. I can’t remember. Something about a doorway opening into the Absolute Beyond. Other than that, I don’t have the foggiest.” He replied, obviously agitated with how difficult remembering something that was younger than anything else that he had spoken of.

“Are... are there more of you?” I asked, curious about whether or not there was an entire species of these hyper-powerful magical entities that were eons older than quite possibly the universe itself.

“Yup, actually ran into a couple of friends a thousand or so years back in the Campaign of Higher Seraphim. That was brutal. I think his name was.....End of All Things that Oppose. We just called him Opposer. Oh, and there was She Who Walks the Line of the Dream. Her name was Walker. And last but not least, He Who is the Bane of the End and Scavenger of the Forlorn. Nasty little bugger. Oh, and Scavenger was his name.”

Incredible. This... spirit, for lack of a better word, was part of super species of intangible, magically adept beings that took the form of both mythical and non-mythical animals.

“Have you always taken the shape of this spear?” I asked, holding the black-bladed weapon up so the falcon could see.

“Not only that. I’ve been a Sword, Crossbow, Tonfa, Banner, Halberd, hell, I’ve even been a Cannon.” He replied with pride in his tone. Did he have mastery over these weapons, considering that he had taken their forms? A question for another time.

“How long have you been this spear?” I inquired, going back to the day I stepped into this hellhole. He was covered with a gigantic drape, obviously not been touched for many a year.

“Near as I can tell, a good dozen decades. Took the form after the battle of Hellpeak Dawn and kinda went with it, last thing I remember before going through the ‘Dormant Cycle’ I was in an armory belonging to king Mythal. Well that is to say, I WAS asleep till your candy-ass showed up.”

“Well, you’re the one that called me to you!” I exclaimed, annoyed at the fact that he wasn’t satisfied with an off-worlder that at least was competent in the world of combat.

“And was it my fault that I got stuck with a newbie?! I woke up a decade ago! What can you expect? I was bored out of my MIND.” He replied, exasperated with the amount of boredom that being dormant for who-knows-how-many decades brings with the peaceful realm of sleep.

“So, you weapons choose your masters?”

“Yup, pretty much. Unless the host is powerful enough to submit us to his will or whim.” He replied, again, nonchalant. There obviously weren’t that many people that were able to take control of a being that had seen the creation of existence, and would probably live to see its end.

“So, what happens when your master is... slain?” I asked, the memories of last night’s battle and my second experience with Death flooding back into my mind just like the stab wound that the pathetic short-sword had given me.

He made a sound like someone sucking through their teeth. “You might wanna pay attention here cupcakes. Well, when our master dies....since most of them make a pact with us, we’re faithful to them as they are faithful to us...when they die...we absorb their souls as life energy. So...yeah. Try not to do that anytime soon. You’d probably taste like anchovies and fish anyway.”

I was both offended and disgusted by his response, my face contorting in a look of pure shock with the revelation that these guys devoured the souls of their wielders!

“Isn’t there any way to avoid that?!” I exclaimed, shocked at yet another sobering matter in this stadium.

“Well, two ways really. One, you kill me and take all the life energy and power that I have. And lemme warn you, I am not going down without a fight. Two, sacrifice a decade of your life to perform the unbinding ritual.”

“Can’t you, I don’t know, just say NO?!”

“No can do cupcakes. Once the binding’s done, it’s done. Nothing short of divine intervention can help you there.” He said, almost as if it he was stuck in traffic. “Eh, what can you do?” His body language spoke as he used his wings to perform some kind of shrug.

This guy, and the rest of his species, was fucking insane! If I’m ever going to get the chance to experience TRUE Paradise, I’m going to have to beat this guy into Oblivion. I’m not losing my afterlife, no way!

“Oh hey! I almost forgot to tell you ‘bout the benefits!” He perked up.

“What benefits? You have a field day with my soul and I lose my personality. Where’s the fun in that?” I begrudgingly replied, agitated by the hand that the fickle fist of Fate had given me.

“I was talking about YOUR benefits, not MINE. Anyway, you might wanna pay attention and memorize what I’m about to tell you. First off, everything I’ve ever seen, done, and experienced, is passed onto you, the beholder. That means you get my combat experience. Hopefully with that you won’t suck so much. Although, I will have to teach it to you, as only my knowledge of the events will be present. Secondly, you won’t get fried whenever you see the true form of a god. You also get to pass through the wormholes and laylines unscathed, which few can do. Hint hint, they have massive amounts of magic and experience.” He whispered conspiratorially. Oh, and the fact that you get lovable old me as a companion for the rest of your days. How much better can it get? Oh, and one last thing, you can also eat souls to prolong your life, stealing their years and all that. Works great when you’re hurt too. Just patch yourself up by grabbing someone’s energies!” He chirped merrily.

He was actually enjoying the benefits that I was getting, or what HE called benefits. I had to devour people’s souls just to stay alive! I’m not a sick bastard like that! That freaking twisted!

Seeing the utter contempt on my face, he frowned. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! It’s either you or them in the end anyway. Better it be you huh?” He flew up right into my face and took a long whiff.

“Besides, you only have, what, eighty years on you? And that’s if you’re lucky. You already reek with the blood of the guys you killed. So Death might mistake you for them and take YOU instead.”

While I hated the concept of the fate that I could bring my victims with a mere angry glare, it made sense for my case. If the souls of these criminals were bound for Tartarus, then maybe I could provide mercy by absorbing their life force and healing my own.

With a belly full of anger and spite, I got up and stretched, trying my best to figure out the situation. My bones popped one after the other in satisfying unison as I let out a sigh of relief. That never did get old.

“Alright then. Now that we have that out of the way, whaddya think we should do?” Asked Remnant, preening his feathers of all things.

“Really?” I asked, he just shrugged and continued to pick at the white underside of his wing. He was an all-powerful supernatural being, yet he still had to pick at the loose areas in his feathers. How does that make sense?

“Well, I think we should probably seek some shelter and food.” I mused, my stomach sounding its agreement while my cheeks were flushed with a light-pink tint. Looking through the lush foliage, I saw the golden fingers of the sun stretch through the canopy, basking everything in its golden rays.

“Like I said, burning daylights there kiddo. Might just wanna find some shelter up in the trees for tonight.” Said Remnants, gesturing with his head to a nearby Pine Tree. With a sour look, clenching the spear in my teeth and racing up the bark, claws unsheathed and gripping the wood, which was surprisingly easy to climb now that my strength had returned.

Taking hold of a branch, I leap up onto the limb, landing paws first as the branch shook under my weight. Taking my spear from my maw, I swung the blade, severing a series of vines from another branch above me, catching them as they fell into my paw. Not wanting to have to hold that thing in my mouth again, I embedded my spear into the bark of the tree as I tied the vines around my body, creating a belt/sash combo that went over my cuirass, covering the hole that the short-sword had created.

“Hmm, snazzy.” Muttered Remnant who’d somehow managed to fly himself up to the canopy. He was now perched on a branch a few feet to my left, directly above me, his head tilted in the vicinity of quite the oddity.

“Wow, didn’t see that coming.” He muttered, his whole body turning away from me as he observed a spectacle only he could see.

“What is it?” I inquired, finishing up the knots tying the vines into place before plucking my spear from the bark of the tree and sheathing it in the vines.

“Now isn’t this interesting.” Crooned Remnant. “Hey! Cat! Get over here!” He shouted, drawing my attention away from the newly created sheath. My innate curiosity getting the better of me, grabbing the branch above me, I hauled myself up and hopped over to his branch, peering down through the leaves to see what he was talking about.

Gathered around a pile of gems, plants, and a few scattered pieces of meat, sat a pack of ten Diamond Dogs, each wearing a very peculiar set of armor. They wore steel gauntlets, each with a different paint scheme.

The one who seemed like the leader, a tall stone grey monster of a mutt who wore a steel breastplate with a grated helmet. Currently, he was ordering two of them to keep guard of the diamond pile as he and several other dogs went off to scavenge and hunt. His form was much more different from the rest of his pack, him being more akin to a Grey Wolf, while the rest of his battalion taking the forms of standard guard formation: side by side in front of the pile.

“You know, this’d be the perfect time to... procure some supplies.” Said Remnant, snickering like a comical villain.

“You mean steal?” I replied, still keeping an eye on the two guard dogs as the others raced off into the woods, the sun beginning to set, bringing the familiar first glance of night along with it.

“No, I’m asking you to bring them a housewarming present. Whaddya think genius?” He replied flatly before fading back into the amethyst that had been fit into my weapon. Rolling my eyes, I jumped from tree top to tree top, branch to branch until I was just over the campsite, overseeing two dogs guarding their stash, neither of which looking in my direction as I slid down the bark swirling around to the opposite side of the tree trunk.

Taking a quick peer over the side of the bark, I quickly doubled back out of fear that I would be discovered. Taking in a deep breath, I continued to survey the campsite, staying wary so that I wouldn’t be apprehended. The leader of the pack had his back turned to me, giving me the perfect chance to snatch an oddity or two. I began to inch closer to the horde, making sure that I stayed survailent about my surroundings.

What I didn’t see however, or rather, what I didn’t feel, were the first warning signs. A *thunk, thunk, thunk* silenced by the soft forest floor, began to ring out in the area utterly unnoticed, though I could still hear leaves rustling in the distance, though I disregarded it as just another rodent making its way across the area.. The slight bump I felt as I sneaked up to the horde to grab some meat wrapped in a bundle of vines and a canteen stitched together, created entirely out of a deer’s hide. The low rumbling in the forest continued, though I paid no heed to the occurrences.

Nor did I see the glint of metal reflected by the sunlight. Nor did I hear the heavy breathing.

*Thunk, thunk, thunk*

“Hey! Remnant. You hear that?” I asked, staying silent for fear that the Alpha out of the group might hear me. For his part he just stayed silent, deciding to be a troll and not listen to his supposed weakling of a master.. “Figures. Can’t talk when you’re stuck inside that stupid gemstone.” I murmured, once again annoyed by the inconveniences that this coliseum continually hurled at me.

*Thunk, Thunk, Thunk*

Finally having it up to my ears in the noise, I turned around, nostrils flaring in anger and initially un-surprised by the wall of metal standing before me.

Wait a minute.

I felt the pits of my stomach drop as I witnessed, there, standing before me in all his metallic clad glory, stood the Juggernaut. He stood a good eight feet tall, wielding a monstrous lance he had gotten from who-knows-where as it gleamed in the afternoon blaze of sunset. He stood with it pointing straight upwards, as if to cast it down onto my body and devour me like a shishkabob, holding it in a neutral stance with both hands clenching the grip. If one chanced upon him in a castle, they might mistake him for a piece of armor.

But it was in the forest. During a fight for survival. And he was very much alive.

Whew, that was a big one! Also, the dialogue of Remnant of Dusk has been provided by Mr. Ignorable, whose reviews are hilarious, by the way. But man, this story has come a long way in such a short time. 28 favorites and over four-hundred views in what? Two weeks? And for all that fans, I thank you. See you guys next chapter!

Why Do We Fall, Lost Warrior?

Published 7/29/2012 by Ryan Christopher Adams

WARNING FROM THE AUTHOR: This chapter of Hatred's Return involves graphic descriptions of horrendous murders at the paws of a temporarily insane sociopath of a protagonist! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Chapter Seven

My pupils dilated with unrestricted horror. The soulless rage and unrelenting power behind the shell of metal standing in front of me stopped me cold in my tracks as my heart sank into my stomach. The steel skeleton held no gaze of its own; no mind, no thoughts, and no emotions. All it had was a mission; one that it would carry out until either it was dead, or until it had accomplished its assignment.

I could hear a deep, faint, but deep series of breaths billowing from the man of steel. Almost like some eldritch horror sitting at the bottom of a well, biding its time. Snarling even, if one could call it that. My mind willed, screaming for my legs to move, even twitch, but my body stayed, petrified by the monster stationed before me.

I could hear more footsteps closing in on my position. The leaves that lay strewn about the forest floor crunched in every passing second. Steel clanging against the leather sheaths of their owners rang in my ears, sending my hackles arise.

At this point, I had two choices: stay here and risk my well-being, fighting an unknown number of hostiles, plus the gigantic hulking man of metal that for some reason hadn’t already cleaved my body in two, or simply dash off into the forest again, that would end up with me getting pursued through the undergrowth by aforementioned metal man and the rest of the troop of Diamond Dogs.

Deciding that I would have better luck on the run instead of in the fray, I took off. My wings sent wave after wave of air down onto the field, propelling my body into the skies until I could reach a branch that would provide reasonable protection.

As if it was some kind of cruel joke on the rest of my opponents, seven Baraq emerged from the bushes behind me, weapons drawn and primed for the killing. You could probably imagine their faces upon discovering that I had up and vanished, leaving only the behemoth to keep them company.

One of the seven managed to catch wind of my location in the canopy, only for his fluids to be spilt across the footing where his allies stood. Flashing only a wink to the rest of my “unfortunate” victims before starting my escape from the battle-ground all over again.

Jumping, my feet came into contact with a limb about ten feet from my original position. Vibrations shook the branch as I took hold of the gargantuan trunk of the guardian of this forest to steady myself, lest I risk a terrible fall not unlike the one I had taken upon my arrival.

“Found you!” bellowed a voice from behind me. The declaration was immediately followed with the blunt force of a fist hitting my maw. With absolutely no warning, I found myself plummeting back down to the forest floor again, with a dizzying unfocused feeling accompanying me as various shapes moved outside of my hazy vision. My (no thanks to you, gravity) hit the dirt expanse of the battleground with a soft thud, leaving no wind in my lungs after the impact.

Unsteadily rising to my feet, I cleared the dirt from my face with a quick swipe of my paw before coming to face my attacker. Facing me was the leader of the Diamond Dogs; the big cheese; the Alpha male. The fangs of the remaining members of the pack flashed a diseased-ridden yellow spark, the howls of the canines filling the airwaves around me.

“Here kitty kitty.” He mocked as he licked his lips in sickening delight. A grotesque scar sheened with fresh blood, flowing in a river from his left eye down to his snout. The maw of the canine twitched and curled unpleasantly as the half-healed tissue seemed to twist, as if it were infected. “I’m only going to rip your throat out.” the sickening canine continued, baring his sickly charcoal teeth in blood-lust as the terrible odor of decaying corpses filled my nostrils. The smell seemed to stick in my throat, forcing the acidic contents of my stomach into my esophagus.

The charcoal canines of the Diamond Dog snapped forward. My ears fell backward with the screeching howl of teeth against metal with the canines of the canine coming into contact with my blade. Using this moment to my advantage, the steel of my weapons slickly cut through the skin of the jaws it had become trapped in. Blood flew from the new wound, splashing the eyes of the Alpha with his own life juices.

“Ooh... kitty’s got some claws.” spoke the Alpha, his voice poisoned like oily water.

Our eyes locked, both of us crossing one paw over the other, staying in a circular motion, never taking our eyes off each other. In our movements, the Diamond Dog’s blade slowly made its way from it sheath, screeching in its motions and sending my nerves into a frenzy.

“Hey Mr. Cuddlesworth, I’m getting bad juju from that thing. Might wanna stay away from the pointy edge. You know the one that could kill ya?”

Before I could get my chance at a little back-sass, I noticed what the falcon had been speaking of. The front edges of the Egyptian Scimitar had been serrated; this blade was meant for agonizing and unrelenting pain, not death. No wonder Dusk wants me to stay away from that thing.

“Aww biscuits n’ gravy. Now I remember. Sanity’s Pestilence. Oh boy, yeah, on second thought, stay the hell away from that thing.” The fear in Dusk’s voice sent my already frayed nerves into a panic.

The grip on my weapon tightened in fear. A stray droplet of sweat fell from my forehead and dampened the ground beneath me.

“Damn I remember this guy. Last owner I had got laid out for a smorgasbord of sickness cuz of him. Also, the sickness is relative to the hatred of the owner. And judging from the oh-so loving stares that dog’s giving you, I’d say you’re in for a world of hurt.”

‘Well, what the hell am I supposed to do?!’ I responded to my oh-so supportive ally.

“Whaddya think, you overgrown furball?! Rip this sucker a new one!”

Yeah; tell me something I don’t know.

“Oh, and I forgot to mention: if any of your blood gets on that blade, he’ll have complete control of every inch of your body. Your organs, bones, and nervous tissues. And trust me; the nut-jobs who get their hands on this weapon are some really creative torturer enthusiasts.”

The advice, however, had no chance to enter my thick skull, as the serrated edge of the scimitar buried my spear in the earth. My rear end decided to make like a tree and plant itself on the ground, though it did save me from having my jugular sliced for the (hang on)… third time in this bloody arena.

I needed time to plan my next attack. Unfortunately, time had become something of a luxury, and I my pockets were fresh out of dinero. Thankfully, I had a little “trust fund”, so to speak, and of all times, now was the time to cash in that check that’s been collecting dust in my cuirass.

A bundle of oxygen filled my lungs as I focused my thoughts on my oncoming attack. Shifting my concentration to the center of my half-closed palm, my arm thrust itself forward, releasing an invisible force of power that bought me all the time I needed.

The Alpha Dog was suddenly expulsed from my range of clairvoyance, tumbling across the forest floor and coming to a halt with a thud some fifty feet later. I could hear the weapon of my opponent clatter against the trunk of the tree as I rushed to take hold of my own armament.

Plucking my spear from the earth, I prepared a back-up to help push back those that would otherwise harm me. With my blade came eight freshly formed stones, each about the size of the average human skull, and thick enough to cause a heavy amount of trauma to whatever it happened to crash into.

What they were all going to crash into, however, was about ten feet tall with a chest of bronze and buns of steel. Quite literally.

Trees suddenly parted like the Red Sea to reveal the Juggernaut, the weapon of his persona, his gargantuan halberd, firmly in his grasp. Fresh drops of crimson liquid fell to the ground, drop after sluggish drop dripping from the edge of the axe-head.

In a panic of what might become of me should that one-man army get even a foot closer to my body, the boulders in my magical grasp shook as my concentration wavered. The stone grey armor groaned a deep war bellow as the body within shouted, lifting the halberd high in the air with, sunlight nearly blinding me with a cross of light from the head of the weapon.

Moving quickly, I forced the stones forward, the eight magically imbued items speeding towards the Juggernaut, who seemed barely fazed even as rocks the size of melons flew into its armored shell. The stones cracked upon impact before, falling to the floor in a shattered heap, completely useless again the plating of the warrior.

A low growl of frustration escaped my throat at my pathetic excuse for an assault. With nothing else in my mind other than blind instinct, I rushed toward the behemoth, praying to God, Allah and any other supernatural being of a higher plane that would listen to keep me alive in this suicidal move.

The halberd forced itself to the ground, compelled to move only by gravity. As the airwaves wailed as they were severed by the great weapon, my body flew over the head of the weapon as it just barely grazed the dermis of my cuirass. Landing back on my feet, I swung my spear in a horizontal arc, circling back around and striking upward, both swings leaving only scratches on the plating.

The left arm of the warrior swung into my chest, though failed to impact anything but air as I leapt into the skies, flipping over my opponent and jabbing at the small of his back. This only causing him minor annoyance as he turned around to face me, albeit it rather slowly.

The halberd arced to my abdomen. My spear found itself between the weapon’s course and my body, though I had naught the strength to withstand such a powerful blow.

The strike sent me barreling into twin trees. All manner of oxygen was lost to me as I could feel the bones in my legs crack upon impact. I struggled to get back onto my feet, falling back to my knees with agonizing pain washing over me. My body shook with my struggling, unable to support my body and leaving me open to all manner of attacks.

The Juggernaut began to slowly march towards my resting place, stomping each armored foot into the ground. The arena shook as his weight pounded the ground I kneeled on, nearly knocking me back onto my rear end once or twice.

‘Five feet’ I thought to myself as I continuously fought my limits, watching as the hulking statue came that much closer to killing me with every passing second.

‘Four feet’ rang in my head as I began to rise again. My face strained and twisted with pain as the crackling of my bones sent shivers down my spine.

‘Three feet’ I caught sight of the Alpha Dog re-emerging from wherever my magical assault had blasted him off to. He snarled in his rage, trails of saliva dripping from his wavering maw.

‘Two feet’ The Alpha charged, raising the scimitar in his grasp to eye-level, ready to skewer me with that crescent blade of his.

‘One foot’ My wings unfurled themselves, lifting me into the skies above the Juggernaut and over his head. Gliding over the steel soldier, I began to plummet just behind Mr. Alpha, delivering a swift kick to his spine before rolling back onto my feet. LIKE A BOSS.

The blow to the Diamond Dog (you’d better stop thinking that!) sent him tumbling forward, nearly tripping over his feet as he fell flat on his face. Metal clashing against metal rang out in the arena, myself smirking in successes and the Alpha lifting his head, only for it to fall with shock.

The scimitar, Insanity’s Pestilence, had broken through the wound that Dusk had used to mark what would end up being the wound to cease the Juggernaut’s existence. The blade that reeked of rotting graves, burning bodies and lack of personal hygiene had stuck itself in the back of the Juggernaut, cracking open two inch gash as the armor cracked near the killing blow.

The cracks from the crevice continued to spread across the steel, painting the plating in fragility until the armor had become as a broken sidewalk in New York. With the integrity of the armor finally reaching its limits, the steel shattered, falling to the ground in a heap of glass-edged slivers atop the topaz blade of the scimitar.

The Alpha snarled, gritting his onyx teeth as he reached for his blade amongst the shrapnel of what used to be a towering suit of armor. The scar across his snout gleamed in the reflection of the blade, showing twisted lips and foam being excreted from the cracks in his teeth.

The Diamond Dog whirled his body, bringing his blade with him. The yellow steel of the scimitar met the onyx metal of my spear, sending sparks flying as the ringing of steel against steel rang in our ears.

The Diamond Dog shoved the black blade from his path, skimming the skin of my cuirass before returning with a vertical strike. The flat of my blade stopped his as I delivered a swift knee to his stomach to counter, followed by my foot coming into contact with his face.

The canine stumbled backwards, holding his blade up in defense as my spear came down on top of it. My muscle strained as my veins showed through my fur, struggling to break through the defenses of the topaz scimitar. Alas, my onyx blade was forced backwards as I suddenly found myself five feet off the ground to avoid a strike from Alpha that undoubtedly would’ve rendered both my armor and my body useless.

Flipping back to where my field of perception wasn’t distorted by crazy acrobatics, the topsoil froze into a thick layer of permafrost, immobilizing the Alpha dog in his tracks. The canine struggled, twisting his body and even going as to smack his paws with the flat of his blade to crack the ice, but to no avail.

Pointing Dusk forward, as if the blade had become a lance, I charged for the Diamond Dog. My pupils glistened with the thrill of my next kill nearly firmly in my grasp.

A cry of agony made its way into the outside world as the black edge of my blade sunk into the body of the Alpha dog. His organs, veins and muscle squirmed and leaked the precious life-juices as my spear twisted in his body, tearing through his armor and letting the life drain from his systems.

*Schlik*

“AAH!”

I stumbled backwards a few steps, clutching my arm in pain. Crimson fluids ran from the wound, staining my palm a deep red. I let a low growl escape my throat, my victim evilly chuckling as shallow coughs sprayed blood over the earth in front of him.

“Hope… you enjoy… my gift” the Alpha whispered between hacks and desperate gasps for breath.

The light faded away from the canine’s pupils as Death claimed his soul, and his body fell to the forest floor with the rest of his fluids leaking from the open wound.

έχθρα

The amber eyes of the feline warrior quivered in his stillness, Abyss simply standing in the midst of the battlefield. He ears failed to register the mourning howls of the Diamond Dogs around him at the loss of their Alpha, the drawing of their weapons coming soon after their laments.

The pupils of Abyss suddenly grew to maximum diameter, the feline chuckling to himself as he head remained pointed skyward, completely oblivious to the canines centering on his location. The guffaws of the feline grew louder and more rapid; his tone dripped with nothing less than pure insanity. These blood-halting cackles, however, did no good to impede the canines with their ambitions for vengeance.

Three feet from their victim, the pack of Diamond Dogs raised their weapons to strike.

But they would never have the chance to spill the feline’s innards.

One of the Diamond Dogs, the third canine from the right, fell to his knees, releasing his weapon and clutching his skull in agony. Blood-curdling screams, those of which the rest of the pack cringed at, flooded the airwaves above Abyss and the Diamond Dogs. The claws of the one in pain dug into the dermis of his skull, fresh blood emanating from the openings.

The shrieks of the Diamond Dog continued to grow in amplitude, reaching decibel after decibel in sound as sanguine fluids never ceased to leak from the holes in his skull.

Finally, the canine’s cries for mercy, pain and relinquish from this agonizing torture were ended. The Diamond Dog fell to the floor of the forest, unmoving; non-reactant; non-responsive. Abyss unfurled his paw, his face twisting into that of a murder, crazed by the high his fresh kill had transmitted.

With this new found power tightly gripped in his clutches, Abyss’ gaze shot to the remaining canines as the feline selected his next two victims in his torture. The orbs of Abyss chose his new targets, the two Dogs at the ends of the force.

The canines began to uncontrollably walk to meet each other, their pack-mates watching helplessly as they bodies remained stationed where they stood.

The weapons of the two Diamond Dogs, a twin pair of daggers and a chain-whip short-sword, rose to meet each other in front of the gaze of their wielders. The limbs of the canines trembled with fear in the realization of their fates. Single tears fell from the pupils of the warriors as the blades quickly sliced the air beside their steel.

Along with the throats of their wielders.

The bodies of the Diamond Dogs fell into their collapse, the fluids that had sustained the two canines leaking from the fresh wounds. A river of blood flowed out from the two corpses as they continued to convulse in their final moments of life, before the light faded from the eyes of the warrior.

The final three Diamond Dogs, now gaining the attention of the power-drunken Abyss, suddenly snapped to their knees, letting out their own screams of undying torture in an ungodly chorus straight from Tartarus.

Abyss closed his distance between him and his newest playthings with every passing stride, plucking his weapon from the corpse of the Alpha. Not a single drop of blood remained on the blade of the weapon from where it had been in the body of the great wolf.

Standing in front of the three Diamond Dogs, the eyes of the feline flared with a devilish fire, the self-possessed warrior deep in thought in how he would end the lives of these three mutts.

Coming to the first canine, starting at the left, Abyss motioned his arm upward. The Diamond Dog rose to his feet, arms and legs outstretched and awaiting their fates. Abyss swung his blade at the right arm of the Dog, severing the forearm of his enemy clean from its socket. The feline let his weapon rise again, and again it severed a limb; the left forearm of the unnamed Diamond Dog. Abyss twirled the spear in his paws, swinging the staff and slashing the kneecaps of the canine, near-silently chuckling to himself as the Diamond Dog bowed before Abyss once more. The fur of the canine had been mixed with the blood from his wounds, no longer a pure ashen coat, but a misty maroon, just lighter than chestnut.

The onyx metal of Remnant of Dusk shadowed the fields that were once bathed in sunlight, cutting what was once the unyielding warmth of the dynamo cold with the very essence of Death itself.

With one final movement of his arm, Abyss severed the Carotid Artery of the Diamond Dog, draining what remaining fluids that had stayed in his system through the fresh gash in his throat.

Satisfied with his results, Abyss moved to his next victim; the center Diamond Dog.

To begin, the blade of Dusk sank into the earth, Abyss preferring to… “get his hands dirty” for this execution. The feline swirled his tongue around the rim of his mouth, relishing the essence of sweet blood-lust on the edge of his lips. Oh, how he savored ever second of his victims agonizing pain and misery.

The arm of Abyss shot forward, grasping the forearm of the Diamond Dog and sinking his claws into the soft flesh of the canine. The sanguine liquid of the victim poured from the four holes in his arm, Abyss snapping hit backwards and shattering the bones within the limb. Taking hold of the second appendage, Abyss swiftly and unmercifully repeated the act, the never-ending cries of the Diamond Dog silenced with the sheer amount of pain overtaking his body.

The feline lifted his leg to the face of the canine, thrusting it downward onto that of the Diamond Dog. The femur of the warrior was completely broken on impact, increasing the agony of the poor Diamond Dog tenfold. Without any hesitation or room to breathe, Abyss’ leg snapped forward again, shattering the accompanying femur in the leg of the canine.

The Diamond Dog, as he continued to drown, resurface, and begin to drown all over again in the overwhelming pain, looked into the inferno in Abyss’ eyes, begging him to simply stop the pain and let him go.

Oh; Abyss would certainly stopped the pain.

In a flash of hazel fur overlaid with pitch-black stripes, the neck of the Diamond Dog snapped with a sickening crack. The corpse of the canine fell over in a heap of broken bones and malformed limbs, not going through a single surplus movement as the final breaths of oxygen were exhaled from the deceased Diamond Dog.

The heartbeat of the final Diamond Dog, the hound of the far right, echoed in his thick and shaky skull, pounding into his eardrums and drowning out the rest of the outside world. Not even his screams of misery that continued to ring out through the jungle, could penetrate the pure fear that flowed through the canine’s veins.

Abyss faced his final victim with the unnerving gaze of a sadist, not even bothering to pick up his weapon to finish this trifecta of unholy, ungodly and unearthly executions.

“Would you like to know” Abyss spoke to the Diamond Dog. “Why I prefer my paws, over the edge of my blade?” The right paw of the feline clutched the chin of the Diamond Dog, locking his eyes with the canine’s as he continued in his monologue. “Blades are much too quick. You can’t get all the… little… emotions from slitting the throat of your victim.” Abyss released the skull of the Diamond Dog, circling back around and taking a few steps forward. “And, you see, in their last moments, a person reveals who they really are, so, in a way, I know your pack-mates better than you ever did.” A smirk, a sickening, sadistic, sociopathic smirk broke across the maw of Abyss the Baraq. “Would you like to know which of them were cowards?”

The paw of Abyss began to curl itself into a four fingered claw, the talons of the warrior protruding from the peaks of the appendages.

“All of them.”

The skull of the Diamond Dog snapped before it was plucked off the shoulders of its body, the corpse letting the floodgates of death flow outward onto the battleground as the disembodied skull fell to the floor, rolling across the vines and soil before coming to a stop at Abyss’ feet.

The twisted smile that rivaled that of another feline from another world remained on the maw of Abyss. The feline knelt to the head at his feet, snatching from the ground, examining it with meticulous accuracy. He was obviously satisfied with his prize

Though he would not be able to partake in the pleasures of his continuously and rapidly growing insanity.

The cracking of limbs rang in the ears of the maddened feline. His cries for mercy and agony replaced those of the Diamond Dogs that he had so freshly killed. Droplets of sanguine liquid splashed across the grounds of the arena as Abyss fell to his paws and knees. His pupils dilated with his pain as he cries grew silent for a scarce few seconds before they began once again. Abyss’ body whiplashed as the warrior clutched his skull in an poor and futile attempt to end his maddening suffering.

The cracking of bones and the shattering what remained of his mentality was the only thing that Abyss knew of at this point.

“Please! Dear Lord, please! Make it stop!” Abyss cried out into the skies above him. His desperate pleas for sanctuary raced throughout the jungles, resonating of the walls of the arena and returning to feline’s ear-drums.

As if by the will of a being from a higher plane, the unbearable torture that had nearly brought Abyss to complete madness came to a rest. The cries of Abyss silenced themselves, becoming only whispers among the trees and flowers and creatures that lay strewn throughout the surroundings of the warrior.

Abyss raised his head to find Remnant of Dusk, clutching the amethyst atop the blade that held his spirit.

“A monument to all your sins.” Spoke the violet falcon, a new voice joining his before his body sank back into the gem that held the soul of the avian.

Abyss sat at the foot of the weapon he clutched in his defense, ashamed at the atrocities that he relished in committing. He had performed ungodly murders with magic of the darkest origins, simply to get a kick from the high. Lone tears fell from the eyes of the disgraced warrior.

έχθρα

‘How could I have let myself sink so low?’ I thought to myself. I had mercilessly mutilated the bodies of six Diamond Dogs. And I took pleasure in it! For the first time in my experiences in this hell-hole, I felt guilt growing in my heart for taking the life of another.

But I always had another chance. Another chance to make things right.

My unspeakable horrors would not go unpunished. I knew that full well. But I still had a fight to win. If I was going to kill another man in battle, his death would be fitting of the acts that he has committed; nothing more, nothing less.

With my resolve restored and my will regained, I rose back to my feet. Taking my staff in hand, I strove through the undergrowth in the forest, eyes blazing with the fires of war as I prepared myself for my final opponent.

Well, that’s it for this chapter! You all know what’s coming next! Anyway, am I boring you guys with this story? I mean, I want this story to entertain you readers. If I’m not doing my job, what do you want me to change? I value input as much as the next person, so please provide as much as possible. Well, until next chapter

I’m Batman.

Just Judgement

On Black Wings I Rise, On Black Wings I Fall
Chapter 8
Just Punishment

Do you know what it’s like to face Death straight in the face, only to take his freaking job? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have absolute power? To have the ability to deal just judgement at the blink of your tiny little pupils?

It’s frightening. It’s maddening. To have the power of a god is something that people long for, but it’s a curse in of itself. It’s a curse that I live with every day of my life. Power corrupts, and when one wields absolute power, that power corrupts absolutely.

If I could relinquish it, I would carry the act out in milliseconds. But I have been given my power for a reason. The purpose? Yet another question to be written on my list.

έχθρα

I continued my journey through the battlefield, choosing instead to seek out my opponent instead of cowering in fear and fleeing the scene of bloodshed whenever the sounding of steel slashing leather hit my eardrums. The mist had returned, lightly hovering over the soil I walked on.

I lifted my eyes to the sky. Gray clouds littered the great blue yonder. A storm was close approaching. Fitting for a final confrontation. A single drop of rain hit my maw, dampening the fur on my face.

I turned my head back to the path I walked, continuing in my trek.

The rodents and avians still present in this morgue rustled in the bushes and treetops around me. My ears twitched at every mannerism, constantly staying aware of my surroundings, lest I meet an untimely demise. Nothing had crossed my path at this point.

The paranoia and growing insanity that had stayed with me during this series of hellish events had finally dispersed. Adamant state of mind had taken the place of never-ending worry and irritatingly constant methods and movements of surveillance.

A twig cracked five feet from where I currently stood. My head slowly turned to the source of the noise.

There, leaning against a lone tree, knife already drawn, stood the one man- no, monster, that had never ceased in his hunt to end my life and attempt escape to continue his unpunishable deeds.

At least, he thought they were unpunishable.

I had told myself that, from now on, considering my horrific acts of ultra-violence, I would be just to those that I had been assigned to as executioner. But this man reeked of death. The blood of his countless array of victims dripped from the edge of his blade, staining every step he took in the sins of his actions.

“Well, well, well.” The Baraq began. “Look who made it out of the frying pan!” the feline strode over to my side, twirling his dagger between his digits. “I must say, I didn’t expect you to last this long.”

I remained stalwart, letting the oily substance of his tone roll of my body like air or water.

“I mean, after all, that little blade, oh what was his name... Oh! I remember! Sanity’s Pestilence; if he hadn’t infected you, you would’ve been nothing less than a snack to those Diamond Dogs!”

My resolve was being beaten like a drum at this point. I had made it much farther than that without that stupid sword getting in the way!

“But still, I guess Fate favors the bold after all!” He leaned in closer, wanting to whisper something into my ear. “Or the weak.”

I lashed out my spear in rage against his remark. How dare he?! He was calling me weak?! And yet he hid in the shadows like a coward, employing the darkest magic to carry out his pathetic dirty work!

The black edge of Dusk struck a steel wall. The flat of the dagger my opponent held in his grasp intercepted the edge of my staff, sparks flying upon impact. The Baraq parried Dusk, continuing with a downward strike, holding his knife in back-hand combat style.

I caught the knife within the split in Dusk’s shape, twisting the blade out of the Baraq’s grasp and slinging off into some random direction. The sweet sound of a dull thunk hit my ears.

“Excellent work, Blackwing.” my assailant remarked, clapping his paws together in some kind of congratulatory gesture. I smiled inward with my ever-growing combat skills.

“However” he continued. “Simply because you’ve disarmed me does not mean that I have been beaten. Constant vigilance and all that!”

Out of my sight, the dagger that had become embedded in the bark of whatever tree it threw it into, had begun twitching on its own (might wanna call Pinkie Pie on this one). The steel blade removed itself from the tree and began to spiral towards me, fully intent on splitting my spine in two.

In a rash course of action, I leapt into the air, narrowly avoiding the sharp edge of the barreling knife and landing back on the ground in a gust of wind.The dagger remained motionless, floating in the air just three feet in front of me.
Before my eyes, the steel of the blade began to split once- no, twice- NO, thrice! Wait! Was this dagger replicating itself? HAX! I call hax on this shit!

“It’s not what you call ‘hax’, my dear, ignorant victim. It’s merely experience.”

I was dumbstruck at this guy’s remark. Was he reading
 “Your mind? Yes. Yes I was.”

WHAT THE FUCK?!! Does he know that’s an

“Invasion of one’s personal space? Yes, and I don’t care.”

I was GOING to give another remark, in what would undoubtedly be absolutely pathetic, but I had what was knife twelve knives pointed at my skull!

The daggers charged my cranium in an attempt to end this fight as quickly as possible. In response, I twirled my blade, deflecting them with a sudden burst of wind as I dashed to retrieve the before they could create another attack formation.

The first knife I could reach barely slipped out of my grasp, not wasting any time in engaging me in another stream of combat.

The paper-thing edge of the blade whirled itself around my body, constantly attempting to land a single blow as I narrowly blocked and avoided swing after swing. The dagger nicked my upper arm, blood already beginning to leak from the wound.

I took hold of the laceration to halt the bleeding as my leg whipped around the propel the knife in the direction of the murderer’s skull.

As if made of air, the dagger phased through his cranium and dissipating into nothing. The warrior controlling the daggers flashed a cocky smirk, .basking in his experience and self-perceived superiority

Well, this could prove to be quit troublesome.

The rest of the daggers rose from the ground, poised to strike again. In a hasty panic, my mind began to flash idea after idea, trying to come up with some maneuver that could incapacitate the other ten daggers.

Then, a stupid - a stupid, but quite possibly ingenious idea - popped into my head.

Faster than Rainbow Dash during Cider Season, I darted over to the Baraq, sliding right under his legs and leaping back to my feet behind.

As expected, the daggers followed directly in suit, following the course that I had laid out with my movements. With sweat dripping from his forehead, the murderer lashed out his arm to catch the first knife that came into contact with his paw, letting the others pass through his body and dissipate into thin air.

If only that knife had gone just three more inches forward. I hate having to call this miserable pill of scum a ”man”, and that dagger certainly would’ve solved that problem.

With the other eleven steel slabs of death out of the way, I charged for my victim, wind already circling my free arm should the need arise. I swung Dusk, arcing downward for his skull. He dodged the blackened blade, parrying with an uppercut as I countered with a swift kick to his temple.

With such a blow to what some considered was a fatal area, you’d think that he’d fall unconscious as I easily finished him off cruelly like the sick bastard I am, right?

WROOOOOONG!

The Baraq stumbled westward, clutching his temple as he let his free arm support him with a free-standing arbor. The soft collisions of raindrops as the fell from the heavens trickled down my ears, dampening my fur as the storm finally that had been looming over the stadium finally began.

A clap of thunder rang out in the skies above. The chuckling of a certain opponent of mine soon followed, sending chills down my spine and stopping my blood cold in it’s currents. Have you ever felt so cold in your life? It like Death is constantly watching over you, and paranoia creeps into your system as you eternally wonder when you finally succumb to your eminent doom.

But you don’t. Death never comes. It’s just a never-ending wait for the shock that will never jolt through your systems.

The Baraq leaning on against the tree turned his head to lock his eyes with mine. The green demonic glow of his eyes burned with a new intensity. I thought that my fur was going to spontaneously combust right then and there.

The paw that was grasping the side of his skull dropped down to his side. The paw clutching the dagger twirled the weapon thrice before it returned to its backhand state.

“LET THE PARTY BEGIN!” exclaimed the warrior as he threw his arms into the air.

Lightning struck with this sudden proclamation, and within a single blink of an eye, my assailant had vanished.

My eyes darted around, surveying my surroundings in a constant pattern.

Up. Down. Left. Right. Behind. I told myself as I looked for any sort of sign of where Mr. Cloak and Dagger (pun intended) had BAMFED off to. A whistling hit my eardrums, ringing out in such a frequency that it forced my to my knees in utter agony!

My paws clutched my cat-ears in pain as the accursed sound continued to scream like nails on a chalkboard. In wait limited power I had in this state of unrelenting torture, I lifted my head upward to find Mr. BAMF plummeting at a thousand miles a minute, aiming right for my freaking skull.

Talk about wanting a dome-fist.

In haste, my wings exploded from their folded form and flapped with a powerful gust. I collided with a tree five feet behind me as the earth under my rear exploded in a compilation of boulders, dirt, shrapnel and insects. Dusk was sent flying off to who knows where, sinking into an unseen tree as the dull thunk hit my eardrums.

Out of nowhere, the Baraq that had caused mass destruction in a matter of seconds, with results that would make Sakura green with envy, flashed in front of me in a haze of visibility.

I didn’t have any time to react to the onslaught he was about to deliver. A stone-hard rear paw came into contact with my jaw, sending my skyward as limb after limb snapped off the tree as I rammed into each piece of wood.

With another flash of his body disappearing, the Baraq soon reappeared above me, slamming his fist back into my skull and sending my back down the ladder. In mid-fall, I felt my body suddenly stop with the air in my lungs receding in massive quantities.

The knee of my assailant had dug itself into my chest, cracking the dermis of the tree I was pinned against before it slung me off into another random direction.

I was flying through the treetops of the forest, unable regain control of my body as I spoke two words that, I hoped, would help me in this situation.

“Accio Dusk!” I bellowed before the sharp knife of the dagger I despised cleaved my arm once more.

Never considering to let the steel of his blade end in its mad mutilation spree, I was helpless but to watch as the Baraq continued to cut my skin and fur to ribbons, wound after wound dripping with the fresh crimson life juices of my body.

My arm was taken into grasp, claws digging into my skin as I was slung back down to... whatever this planet is, colliding with another tree. The body of the giant snapped from the trunk, tumbling over in a heap as I lay witness to my assailant as he charged for me. His dagger was poised for execution, a sickening sadistic smile spread across his maw.

I looked to my left to find Dusk coming to my aid, barreling through the air and screeching as it severed the airwaves around it. Thank you, Harry Potter!

Both my blade and the murder continued to grow closer and closer to my location, both gaining speed with every passing second. The airwaves were mutilated by both bodies, screeching at such a frequency to where the air grew silent. The crowds above us were on the edge of their seats, eagerly and impatiently awaiting the outcome of the battle between the final two combatants.

Thunder clapped once more as I felt Dusk sling into my grasp. I quickly twirled the blade to a pointed position, hoping to skewer my executioner and cut his attempt short.

However, his reflexes proved to be the better, and he flashed away in another haze before reappearing again, his dagger sinking into my gut as I was caught off guard.

Damn it! This entire series of torturous events had been my motivation to escape from this fucking hellholle! And now I was going to die like a pathetic dog you see on the side of a asphalt highway?!

“Pathetic.” My attacker spat. His maw contorted into a scowl at my weakness and helplessness. “I expected more from a man that defeated a pack of Diamond Dogs, six highly trained warriors, and a towering behemoth of walking steel.” He snickered again, plucking his blade from the wound in my body. “Well, I guess that this how the story ends. Hope the dark doesn’t scare you.”

The Baraq began to walk from where I lay as I bled from the wounds on my body. My teeth cracked under the pressure I put on them as scowled in disgust at my next victim.

“I’ll give you something to fear.”

έχθρα

The inferno of the unrelenting force from those who would unleash ungodly fury began to burn around Abyss, swirling in black fire. The winged warrior rose to his feet, spreading his wings in preparation for his final assault. The darkness of the Executioner drowned the hazel glimmer in his pupils. Death flowed outward from the edge of Remnant of Dusk.

The onyx wings of Abyss grew darker than Oblivion, shining in a strobe as a scar of pure white flashed across the ashen skies above.

The black fires around Abyss flared with an ever-growing intensity, burning the ground around the fires as the warrior who had so foolishly turned his back returned his gaze back to his victim.

“Oh, son of a bi-”

The storm of onyx swarmed the Baraq’s body, burning his fur and breaching his flesh. The cries of pure agony filled the air as lightning struck again and again, filling the stadium with darkness and light, one after the other.

Abyss began to slowly stride towards the Baraq, letting his whips of fire volley the rag doll into the air, ripping his soul into pieces with every second the flames touched his skin. The fires slammed the victim into the earth before flinging him back into the storm-filled skies above, continuing to rip and tear at his body with unrelenting power. The screams and cries of mercy from the unfortunate convict continually went unanswered.

The helpless being fell back the stadium, right into the clutches of Abyss as he began to choke what remaining air remained in the lungs of the Baraq. His fur let off minuscule trails of smoke, his fur smoldering from the fires that had since died down.

“What?” The Baraq asked. His voice trembled with fatigue and fear. “What are you?”

“I am the demon from the abyss, and you have been staring into it for long enough.” Spoke Abyss.

The maws of the two warriors slowly unlatched, their gazes locking with each other as the ritual began. Youth and sustenance began to drain from the feline in Abyss’ clutches, his fur growing gray and the feathers of his wings slowly falling to the earth.

His skin became wrinkled and saggy, dried with age as the life continued to be drained from his very being.

At last, every ounce of energy, youth and life was absorbed from the criminal, and the bodies of Abyss and the Baraq fell to the floor, one in death, and one in absolute victory.

The crowds remained silent as the king stroked his chin in curiosity, staying in deep thought about the feline caught in his gaze.

Alright!! That’s the end of the Arena arc! What adventures await Abyss now that he has survived his sentence? What threats will reveal themselves as the journey continues? Find out in the next chapter of On Black Wings I Rise, And On Black Wings I Fall.

Wow. I did NOT expect that chapter to be quite this long. To be honest, I was expecting 1000 words minimum. But THREE THOUSAND WORDS?! Hot damn, I am good! But seriously though, the real motivation to my writing goes to you viewers. You’re the people that keep this story alive, so do share your opinion! Tell me what you think could be better, what could be changed, anything! I want to make you guys happy. That, and I want this story to become somewhat popular. Well, we’ve got a huge plotline coming up, so until next time

STAY AWAY FROM THE NIGHTLOCK

P.S: I’m going to be working on the second chapter of my upcoming new fic, so try and be patient for the next chapter.

P.P.S: Do you guys like the new title?

I'm Wide Awake

Alright people! I’m back! After two weeks, I’ve finally returned from the dark! And with a 6000 word chapter, no less! Well, I think I’ve wasted your time for long enough. On to the chapter!

On Black Wings I Soar, On Black Wings I Fall
Chapter Nine
I’m Wide Awake

Alone Abyss sat within the darkness of his own sub-conscious, legs crossed and face twisted in annoyance. The first time that his mind decided to go all jail cell on his fur covered ass, and Abyss had to be trapped in a never-ending void with nothing to do.

Questions bounded around in the mind of the warrior. Was he alive? Was he dead? Was he stuck in a coma from which he would never awaken? Or was his body being prodded with sharp objects by a medical practitioner with the experience of a fruit bat? Unfortunately, Abyss had naught to give him an inkling to the answers.

And so the feline remained in the darkness of his mind, watching, waiting, and most importantly, hoping that no one would arrive to ruin the peace and quite that he so rightfully deserved.

In, out. In, out. thought Abyss as he remained deep in meditation. Aside from causing a Flare equal to that of Twilight Sparkle, Abyss had adopted the habit of meditation for relaxation. A outlet for tension that one gains in his life and requires release. Without violent interactions, that is.

But even in his private solace in the dark, Abyss couldn’t help but fell worried about himself. Had he made it out of the Arena? Were his wounds too great? And if he had, what became of Dusk? While the eagle irritated the Baraq to no end, he felt compelled to at least fell a shred of concern for the mass of intangible energy that he was sure wanted to shove a short-sword up his ass.

But nonetheless, Dusk had helped him on more than one occasion, even if that did come with the ridicule from the equivalent of a teenager with a undeveloped prefrontal cortex. But Abyss was in that same boat, at least where mental development was concerned.

And so a smile broke out on the feline’s maw. Even in the cold loneliness of whatever the Oblivion was, Abyss could find happiness by simply humming a happy little tune to himself. The darkness was comforting in an almost surreal way. Simply being alone with a jaunty little tune playing in his head was enough to keep the feline content.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and for Abyss, that time unfortunately came in the from of a white-haired prick.

Before the Baraq’s eyes materialized Fracture, crimson t-shirt, blue jeans and bleached hair in all.

“Well done, Abyss.” spoke the inter-dimensional human. “I must admit that your time in the Arena was much entertainment to watch.”

“Entertainment?” rebutted Abyss as he rose from the floor of his sub-conscious. “Was that all that was to you? This isn’t the Capitol you fucking psychopath.”

Abyss, at least during his time as a human, had read tale after tale of totalitarian governments that enjoyed the slaughter of animals, robots, and even each other, for nothing else but sport. It sickened him, and yet at the same time intrigued him, at creations the twisted machinations of writer’s mind was capable of fabricating.

Yet after living through the hellish series of events that the fictional characters trapped in text on paper had also lived through, the fate of having to mercilessly murder fellow members of your species (or any other species, for that matter) for other people’s enjoyment was simply putrid in theory, and even worse in practice.

“Well, I do have a nasty habit of sadism, mind you.” replied Fracture with a smirk. The human began to slowly walk away from Abyss, his hands clutched behind his back like some CEO of a multi-million dollar corporation. “However, while I will admit that your blunders in your combat where incredibly laughable, your skills in the world of combat were just as laughable, if not more so.”

This notion angered Abyss, even though he knew it to be true. His time on the Internet dealing with trolls, ten-year olds and just straight up ass-holes had turned him into a man of argumentation, and Fracture was no exception.

“What do you mean ‘just as laughable’? I was able to hold my own in that Arena. Longer than you could, at least.”

The human scoffed at the poorly supported remark. “Please! Your form was sloppy, your attacks were predictable, and may I remind you that the only reason you’re still alive is because your weapon, who doesn’t even have a corporeal form, I might add, saved your furry rear end halfway into the bloodbath!”

Abyss was losing this argument all to quickly. “Well I have yet to see you do anything that can justify you know an inkling more about combat than I do!” berated the warrior.

In a sudden bipolar burst, the slick, suave smart-ass quickly became a blood-thirsty killing with a soul cold as ice. In one fell swoop, Fracture tackled Abyss to the ground, flipping him onto his stomach and placing him in the ever-popular bone breaking hold.

“Now you listen to me, whelp.” Fracture whispered as his hold on Abyss grew stronger. “I’ve seen wars. Wars that have leveled entire kingdoms. Wars that those pathetic battles in the history books you used to bury yourself in would pale in comparison if you were there to witness them.”

The human released his bone-breaking hold on Abyss, the feline clutching his arms while Fracture began walking into the darkness.

“And during those wars, I have acquired a very particular set of skills; skills that I have acquired over a very long, and very bloody career. The next time you dare show such physical ineptitude and incompetence, make no mistake. I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.”

“And what does that gain you, genius?” Abyss inquired as he rose to his feet while still clutching his arm. “With killing me, you loose your patron in this ‘Chess Game of the Gods’, moron!”

Fracture began to evilly chuckle to himself. Was his patron really so dense as to he he was. “Oh, my dear, sweet Baraq. You seem to so easily forgotten that I am a god. I have the ability to jump between the dimensions of the planes of reality. If I lose on my knight in these games, I’ll simply find myself a king to replace him.”

“But I thought the king was the second-least powerful piece in chess.” Replied the feline with a snicker at his clever remark.

Fracture let out a frustrated growl in annoyance at the fact that he was getting punk’d by a teenager. He was a being from a higher plane capable of bending space and time itself! And yet he couldn’t outsmart someone with a fraction of his age.

“Regardless, I can dispose of you at any given moment. So unless you want to experience death for the second time, I suggest you find a way to better yourself in the world of armed and unarmed combat.”

“And how am I supposed to do that, O mighty patron?”

Another smirk broke out on Fracture’s face as he turned to face his pawn.

“Just wake up.”

With the argument coming to an end, the floor under Abyss’ feet shattered like fragile glass, falling into the endless void as Abyss began to plummet with it.

“Ta, ta, Abyss.” Fracture waved good-bye as the feline continued to fall into the pit.

Abyss didn’t care where in existence the never-ending void of darkness would take him. He just wanted to know he was alive.

ρηγλδαζ

The hazel eyes of the feline slowly opened from their locked state as a blinding light caused Abyss to wince before refocusing his gaze. With a clear sight after a few seconds, Abyss found himself in the middle of what seemed to be an infirmary. A window to his left, a small wooden bed at the opposite wall, and the door to his right. Nothing extravagant like those back on Earth, but warm and welcoming in its quaint proportions.

Deciding that he should probably go inform someone that he was, well, alive, Abyss began to take small steps toward the door.

Except two things stopped him from doing so.

One, he was encased in a magical orb with a glimmering sigil underneath, most likely a incubation orb for healing mass injuries, that kept him from exiting his safety zone.

And two, he had been stripped of his clothes and his weapon, both of which sat against the wooden frame of the bed on the far side of the room.

Instinctively, the black wings of the feline wrapped around his exposed body, as he had lived with knowing that public nudity was a bit of an indecency. Even in the current society he found himself in, the citizens wore some form of rags over their furred bodies.

And there he was: trapped as a bubble boy, or bubble kitty, in the middle of a minuscule room with a single window and no signs of anyone coming to assist him. Being in the care of anthropomorphic winged felines was starting to sound a lot like solitary confinement to the warrior.

Not knowing whether or not the orb held its own source of oxygen, thought the former was most likely to be the case instead of the latter, Abyss wouldn’t take any chances. Seeing as he couldn’t break through the barrier on the inside, he decided that he would required some “external force”.

Within rehabilitation orb, the magical energy within Abyss began to concentrate solely on lacerating a single board in the room. Abyss thought that if he could puncture the shielding, or even land a hairline fracture on its surface, then he could try and find someone competent enough to tell him just what happened when he was out.

Within seconds, a sliver had been cut from the board, poised like a spear. Or a lego that one steps on and then goes on a rant in the language of those seafaring folk. The wooden spear gently floated over the indention it left as Abyss charged the sliver with magic, hoping to provide enough thrust to pierce the orb that held him captive.

After nearly a minute of charging, Abyss finally released the energy he had stored in a burst power, sending the splinter into the shielding. And in the next instant, the lone piece of wood began spiraling towards the door that lead to the outside hallway, only for it to stop abruptly in mid-flight.

Abyss was puzzled by the sudden end to his projectiles travel, only for the cause of the happening to walk into the infirmary in the next instant.

In walked Remedy, still wearing the pristine clothing that she had worn when treating the hole in his wing before the events in the Arena with a new set of clothing folded over her arm, while Dusk was clutched in the same paw. Her arrival was much to Abyss’ initial shock. Shock, but happiness.

Other than the king, and the queen to some extent, Remedy had been the only one to show Abyss kindness upon his first arrival in the land he was now stationed in. It warmed his heart that she was the one that had most likely cared for him during his time of unconsciousness.

“Oh, it seems that you’ve already awakened.” Remedy greeted with a smile, completely ignoring the sliver of wood that almost ventilated her frontal lobe. Walking in, letting the splinter fall to the ground, she closed the door with a subtle click, wandering over to the sigil on the floor.“That’s good. I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to give a rude awakening.”

Kneeling to the sigil, her fingertips barely touched the wooden floor as they began to glow with a bright white aura surrounding them. Similarly, her eyes held the same luminescence with the spell that she was disarming.

The sigil below Abyss began to unwrite itself, erasing into nothing as the glow from the mystical art faded with the shield as the Baraq continued her work. Abyss continued to bob within the incubator, watching with the eyes of a convicted student. He was studying the spell, trying to learn something about casting it from the way it was being performed. If he could learn how to deactivate the shield, maybe he could reverse engineer the sequence and teach himself to replicate it.

With the remaining lengths of the spell cast, the shield and sigil dissipated completely, letting Abyss drop to the ground , kneeling before Remedy as they met face to face, without the annoyance of a arcane healing shield between them.

“Oh, and next time you’re trying to escape” Remedy smugly replied while picking up the splinter that she had caught before ordering. “You should know that wood, unless you know how to properly enchant it, won’t even scratch the surface of the shields I’ve been taught to generate.”

A chuckle escaped Abyss’ maw. “A little cocky now, aren’t we?”

“Hm... call it confidence.” Remedy replied with a wink. “You should probably put these on.” Remedy said as she held up the new garments prepared for her patient. “His majesty has requested to speak with you personally.”

Handing the fresh threads to Abyss, Remedy laid the Baraq’s weapon against the cot in the infirmary, nodding back to Abyss before leaving him to himself.

Abyss rose back to his feet, deciding to slip on the bottom half of his garbs. The pants themselves were a fresh hakama pair, buckled in the center by an onyx belt of steel links and a golden emblem, an exact replica of his original, keeping the links together with a clasp. Abyss’ newest armor, however, was what intrigued him so.

The suit itself was designed like a standard T-shirt; lightweight, thin and flexible. The fabrics themselves were dyed a solid black, with only a bright crimson “X” breaking out on both sides of the top. The fabric itself wasn’t entirely cotton, or wool, or whatever had been used to construct the garment. Instead, the feeling of cold, but microscopic metal rubbed against the skin on Abyss’ fingertips. Bits of chain mail had been woven into the weaving pattern of the armor itself, providing excellent protection against whatever weapons the feline would encounter.

Finished with the examination of the shirt, Abyss slipped it on, rolling his shoulders back and going through a few stretches to test the elasticity of his new armor. It fit like a glove, bending to his every movement much more flexibly than the old leather cuirass he donned in the Arena.

His armor now out of the way, Abyss wandered over to the worn cot to find his prized possession; Remnant of Dusk. The void black blade of the spear gleamed in the sunlight breaking through the window, gently reflecting the light with a smooth metallic sheen. Abyss began to run his hand across the wooden hilt of the weapon. It felt as smooth as it did the first time he picked it up, not a single break in the vine-like carvings that had been etched into the wood. And looking at the amethyst, the vessel of Dusk’s spirit, he noticed that it gave off a particular kind of sparkle when gazed at. Like Dusk was... happy to be back with Abyss.

‘Like that’s actually the case.’

And all of the weapon’s undamaged splendor laid wrapped in a fresh leather sheath, the blade nestled in a holster made so that the blade’s split would lock it within the hold. It was very fine craftsmanship to Abyss as he slung the sheath over his shoulder.

A knocking at the door caught Abyss’ attention. Allowing the visitor to enter with a simple “Come in”, a guard clad bushido-esque armor stepped in. He immediately bowed to Abyss, confusing him before rising again to deliver his message.
 “Greetings, Champion of the Arena. Madame Remedy had asked me to escort you to His Majesty. I presume that you have everything in order?”

Abyss gave a simple nod before being led out of the infirmary, into the hallways where he would have a conversation with someone that, hopefully, he could trust.

ρηγλδαζ

Abyss and the guard hadn’t said a word to each other. Both remained silent during the entirety of the escort. Abyss had a plethora of questions racing throughout his mind, though he thought best simply stay silent to avoid any unwanted incidents between the two.

Finally, the guard decided to speak up and break the silence. “His Majesty has been very curious about you Abyss. He would often have meetings with his advisors regarding whether or not you should have been executed on the spot during your trial.”

A heavy lump formed in Abyss’ throat at the thought of the advisors winning in that argument, happily swallowing said lump, thankful that the king had won out in the arguments.

“Pray tell” Abyss nervously replied “What has His Majesty found in my that he finds so intriguing?”

“He does not say. Though if I had to guess, I would say that it was your performance in the Arena that has peaked his curiosity.”

“My performance?” Abyss’ face twisted in question? “All I did was swing my weapon like a newb that didn’t know a spear from a spoon.”

“Newb?” The guard questioned while Abyss mentally face-palmed at the fact that no-one in the country spoke Gamer. “Well, I don’t know what you mean by ‘newb’, but while you combat abilities where that of a knave, your magical prowess says otherwise.”

“Magical prowess? I think I can hardly call ice-”

“We’ve arrived.” Interrupted the guard as the two felines stopped at two gargantuan wooden doors. Layer after layer of vines decorated the slabs of wood, cross-weaved over each other to hide the worn surfaces underneath.

‘Unorthodox’ Abyss thought ‘But inventive, nonetheless.’

“Only speak unless you’re spoken to.” said the guard, as if giving rules to Abyss. Then again, he was about to speak with the ruler of wherever he was. “Seeing as you’ve just escaped the jaws of the Arena, you wouldn’t want to find yourself inside them again, now would you?”

Abyss only nodded in affirmation. He was too anxious to say another word to his escort.

“Then all I have left to say is congratulations, Champion of the Arena.”

Giving one final bow of respect, the guard left Abyss standing before the doors to royalty. A million thoughts where racing through the feline’s head. What was the king really like? Was he as benevolent as during his trial? Or was it just a front? Why had the king of all people become intrigued by his meager abilities in combat? And what was the His Majesty going to do with him? None of these answers would come to him simply by standing in front of the doorway that held them all.

With one final deep intake of air, Abyss forced open the twin doors to the throne room, graciously walking inside to find the king, his queen missing from beside him, sitting at the head of the room. As the feline continued down the carpet-laden floor, his face stayed forward, but his eyes were flittering across his skull to get every glimpse of the room that he could get.

The windows themselves were quite large. Approximate to those in the Canterlot throne room, from what he remembered seeing in the episodes that featured it. No stained glass covered them, however. Nor any kind of conventional curtains or drapes. Instead, large layers of moss had been hung from the tops of the windows, letting in blades of light through their gaps.

Along the walls, pedestals and stands holding all manner of weapons stood, ranging from daggers to spears to entire sets of throwing knives.

‘Memorials for the deceased.’ Abyss guessed, as it seemed to be the most logical use for such presentations.

Stopping in the center of the room, Abyss fell to his knees, kneeling to the great patriarch
until given the signal to rise.

“Rise, Champion of the Arena.” Spoke the king. Abyss rose from his position while the king rose from his throne, slowly walking towards Abyss with his paws clutched behind his back. He wore the very same robes that he had during Abyss’ trial, giving a sense of familiarity to the situation and reducing the tension. “I take it you had a pleasant sleep?” Inquired the

Abyss nodded in response with a smile on his face. The king returned the look with a smile of his own as the two stand face to face.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t properly introduced myself. I am Solaris, ruler of the Kingdom Whose Name Has Been Lost, and son to King Ra-Shun.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.” Abyss replied. “The guard that escorted me here had informed of a certain... curiosity, that involves me. If you could enlighten me on what you find so intriguing about me.”

Solaris chuckled to himself at the comment. “Shido was always the talkative type. What has intrigued me so, Abyss, is your alignment with a certain kind of magic.”

“And what, pray tell, might that magic be?”

“Black Hellfire.”

Abyss’ mind froze at the mentioning of such an ungodly spell.

‘Black Hellfire’ Abyss thought to himself. ‘Could that’ve been the inferno that I unleashed at the end of my final confrontation?’

While Abyss was overcome by emotions of such negative power, he still held a grip on his basic motor functions. His stylized violence was a testimony to such control. He could see his actions, the horrors of his judgement on the murderer. The pain that such flames caused as they batted against his skin. It sickened him, even though he knew that the criminal deserved

“You seem surprised.” Solaris said, breaking the silence. Abyss shook himself from the shock of the revelation. “Hmm. I expected as much. Not many people know of the inferno’s existence, and those that do fear its power.” Solaris began to walk towards his throne, turning back to Abyss to say “Come. I will explain in the library.”

Solaris continued to walk down the throne room, motioning Abyss to follow with his arm, noticing that he had not begun to walk with him. With initial hesitation, the Baraq began to follow the regal, until both came to a halt at the two gold-plated seats.

Abyss was slightly befuddled by the halt in Solaris’ movement. They were just two twin seats. What importance could the two positions hold other than being the placeholder for the royals when addressing crowds of subjects or discussing new laws with delegates and upper class-men.

“By that look on your face, you’re probably wondering why we’ve stopped in front of the two thrones.”

Abyss’ head rose up with a “Huh?”, his attention recaptured after being brought from the deduction of his superior’s actions.

“I thought as much.” Solaris replied. “Perhaps it is best if I merely showed you.”

King Solaris graciously strode towards his throne, the larger of the two, stopping before it and gazing down at the floor. In the next instant, the blade of the noble slowly slid out of its decorated sheath, only to be thrust into the floorboards, sliding into a small crevice between the construction of the foothold.

Within seconds, the fractures in the wooden floorings began to glow with a dark violet luminescence as the boards began to detach themselves from their positions, phasing through the bolts that held the to the earth as the stone underneath began to rise from underneath the surface of the ground itself. As the bright orange rock continued to grow in height, the boards began to rearrange themselves, building bridges between the pillars of stone.

At full height, the gigantic pillars of earth were revealed to be a never-ending series of shelves, housing every kind of tome or scroll imaginable. It truly was a sight to behold.

The sheer amount of tomes, scrolls and endless information was enough to take anyone's breath away. But this was even more so for Abyss. On multiple occasions, Abyss had found himself buried in the pages of a fantastical tale involving dragons or giants, or sometimes an encyclopedia ranging from beasts of jungles to the cultures of different societies. Regardless, the feline devoured every word implanted in the records like they were sweet Ambrosia from Olympus. He would go for days on end without putting down whatever was occupying him, and when Abyss had finished whatever had first intrigued him, he'd simply find another topic that fascinated him more.

A series of guffaws began to erupt from the king, jerking Abyss’ head back to his attention.

“I see that my study has caught your attention, Abyss.”

“Caught it?” Abyss replied. “This collection is amazing! How manny records are held in these shelves?”

“Approximately 34,587 tomes and scrolls.”

 “WHAT?!” Exclaimed Abyss.

Another series of chuckles erupted from the mouth of Solaris.

“You assume things far too easily, Abyss. To tell the truth, I’ve no idea of the number of records stored in these shelves. The notes that you see here have been stored in under this room since the founding of this country; since the times that King Dusk and the Great Wasteland Wars. Everything that we’ve learned, from every spell performed to every fighting technique; all the knowledge from every citizen that’s lived in this kingdom is here for anyone to use. With my permission, of course!”

Abyss joined in with the king’s guffaws at this remark. The king was already so trusting of Abyss. To be joking around with the warrior in such a casual manner; it puzzled Abyss. On so many occasions, Abyss had been distrusted by familiar acquaintances. His bitterness grew towards most of humanity, though like most people in society, he had learned to wear a mask. This sudden show of deep trust seemed odd; unfamiliar even.

Though the joined chuckling from Abyss was enough to give Solaris a clear enough answer.

“Now, I believe that you were asking about the Black Hellfire?” Spoke Solaris.

In response, Abyss gave a simple nod of confirmation.

“Then follow me.”

Without missing a beat, Solaris’ pristine wings expanded to their full lengths, elevating off the ground and upwards to a walkway fifteen feet above him. Abyss quickly followed in suit, the two of them strolling across the wooden foothold, passing row after row of gargantuan records that Abyss never took his eyes off of.

“Tell me, Abyss.” Solaris began. “Do any of these titles seem familiar to you?”

The eyes of Abyss became more focused on what exactly he was reading instead of just the books themselves. Intently, the feline studied spine after spine of books, noticing similarities in the languages that he studied out of spare interest back on Earth. Bits of Latin, Greek and English-esque configurations. Abyss remained silent throughout his observation, not even responding to the question of His Majesty.

A groan of disappointment, whispered through his teeth, escaped the maw of Solaris at Abyss’ answer. Even though Solaris had no intention of the feline to hear the sound, the over-curiosity, combine with the feline ears that Abyss had acquired...

“Shame. Tell me, Abyss.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” Replied the feline.

“What country did you say you had arrived from?”

“Uh... What??”

Solaris’ ears perked at the sound of the response. “Hmm. I don’t believe I’ve heard of this ‘What’.” Stopping in his movements, Solaris took to the air again, lightly flapping his wings to stay elevated to remove a bright jade book from the stocks before returning to the bridge where Abyss still stood. “Do your people speak Baraq in What, Abyss?”

“Oh, uh... no sir.”

“Pity.” The pages of the book fluttered opened with a flick of Solaris’ wrist, stopping at a page with an illustration of eight different flames. “We’ll just have to fix that, now won’t we?” Abyss began to wander to Solaris, just gazing over his shoulder as he waited the explanation he had been told he would be given.

“Now Abyss” Solaris began. “In the realm of magic that we have studied, eight types of flame have appeared are able to be cast. There is the Green Lifefire” He continued, pointing to the bright green fire illustrated. “The Blue Stormfire, the Red Furyfire, the Yellow Lumenfire, the Violet Fearfire, the White Purefire, the Orange Solarfire” Solaris stopped, taking in a deep breath before deciding to continue. The atmosphere of the room intensified. Abyss could hear his own heartbeat ringing in his ears, as well as the very gales blowing outside as they rustled the moss covering the windows. “And the Black Hellfire.” Solaris finished, pointing to a fire of blackest night. The photo itself seemed to emanate pure wrong, pain and misery. The eyes of the over-watching stayed motionless, only moving in the dilation of their pupils.

“The Black Hellfire has been known to our kingdom as a cursed flame; one of ungodly agony and suffering. And with good reason. While many of our species view the flame as cursed or evil, only those that have truly seen the use of this fire know that it is the most powerful weapon in an arcane’s arsenal.”

This particular notion peaked Abyss’ interest. “What do you mean, Your Majesty?”

With a dull clap, the jade tome came to a close before being lifted up to the indention that it left and slipped back into its slot.

“Black Hellfire has been known not to burn, but to cause pain.” Solaris began again, starting to walk down the bridge again with Abyss closely following in earshot. “It does not kill; it does not incinerate the objects it comes into contact with, if that object happens to be living, at least. But that is not it’s only use.”

Was Solaris contradicting his own statement? Black Hellfire, used for something more than just pain? For something more than just... evil?

“Unbeknownst to most arcane masters, be it their general disapproval of the fire or their hesitance to study it further, Black Hellfire has the capabilities to have the effects of the other seven Ancient Fires.”

A pair of eyes shot open with the revelation of such power in one’s possession. Both Abyss and Solaris ceased walking across the platform, the royal pausing before deciding to continue in his explanation.

‘Could what Solaris be saying really be true? But, then again, what are the other effects of these Ancient Fires? For all I know, they could be just as dangerous as the Hellfire’s.’

“Your Majesty.” Finally spoke Abyss. “If you could elaborate on these... effects. I’m merely skeptical on what the other fires are capable of doing.”

A humble smile crept across the face of Solaris. “But of course. After all, you’ve only encountered a single kind of Ancient Fire, so it’s only natural that you would be dubious concerning the existence of beneficial uses of these flames. I believe that an example is the most efficient way of proving this point.”

With a simple waving of his paw, a bright white flame appeared just... floating above the palm of Solaris’ paw, flickering in the wind of the room.

“Now, this White Purefire. Like all the other Ancient Fires, it has the sole potential to burn, as do all fires that happen to spark. However, White Purefire is a special case. It’s power to incinerate breaches the physical level, going onto the mental level, and even the spiritual level.”

“Spiritual level, sir?” Abyss inquired.

 “Yes, though I believe that particular notion is best saved for another time. Instead, let’s keep the level of burning at a mental level. Now, White Purefire, with its unparalleled ability to burn and scorch, can either destroy a memory that one holds in their mind, or brand an image or idea into their very conscious. This fire has been used to wipe clean the memories of those that have escaped the Arena alive, at least where their criminal minds are concerned.”

‘Wait.’ Abyss thought. ‘If that really is the case, then why do I still remember everything before jumping into that hellhole? Why do I still remember getting shot with that arrow, and that slap across the face that I swear was given by a back-hand made of steel.’

“I believe that’s all that needs to be said, Abyss?”

Taking himself away from his personal arguments and further speculations, Abyss merely replied with a “Yes, Your Majesty” to answer the king’s question.

“Good. Now, come with me. There is a request that I wish to give you.” Spoke the king before lifting himself from the walkway and began floating down to where he had imbedded his blade, in front of the two thrones. The feline that he had been conversing with was following him soon after.

Another set of gears began to turn in the mind of Abyss. A request? For what? His skills in combat were amateur at best. Or maybe he was underestimating himself. His arcane abilities, while somewhat useful, weren’t the most polished that he had witnessed either. Then again, the Black Hellfire was enough to disprove that.

Reaching the two thrones, Abyss gently landed on the floor with a dull thud, patiently awaiting the request of Solaris as he removed his blade from the indention in the floor.

“Abyss, the rest of this small country will be celebrating an... anniversary, of sorts. My personal advisors, as well as those that I’ve invited, will be attending a private ceremony for the celebration. A retelling of the tale, if you would. It would be my greatest honor if you would attend as my personal guest.”

Stalwart, Abyss intently started into the eyes of the man giving the request. This wasn’t exactly what he was expecting, but still...

‘Alright, what can I gain from this? On the upside, I can learn a bit of history of this species from this celebration. On the downside, I might possibly gain the distrust of those closest to the king, as well as a few jeers from aforementioned advisors. Then again, it’s not like I haven’t been faced with such rabble before, now is it?'

“Your Majesty , it would be both my honor and privilege to attend your celebration.”

A content smile appeared on Solaris’ maw. “Excellent. Now, I won’t have to kill you.”

Abyss’ heart stopped at this. Not a single beat came before the halt; it simply came to an abrupt stop without any single hesitation.

After a failed attempt of stifling his laughter, the king began to burst out in a hysterical state of joking delight.

“You-you should have seen the look on your face, my boy.” said Solaris in between his gasps for air. “I was merely joking, Abyss. You must learn not to take things so seriously.”

Despite the reassuring gesture from Solaris, Abyss’ face simply stayed frozen in a look of shock and horror for nearly twenty seconds before the feline snapped back into reason and reality.

“Oh.” A low shade of red covered Abyss’ cheeks. “Heh, heh. So, when and where is this celebration, Your Majesty?”

“It will be held in three days time. I will have Remedy be your escort to the event, considering that the location is secret, and you wouldn’t be able to find your way to the location without a proper map. And even if you did have a proper map, you wouldn’t be able to read it.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Abyss replied with a bow.

 “It’s really no trouble, Abyss. Now, I will have another one of my guards escort you to where you will be staying during your time here. Feel free to use the library at your leisure, as I’m sure you will want to do some kind of research. Simply tell the guard in front of this hall’s doorway ‘A Kybii holds no truth, but a Sphinx tells no lies.’ and he’ll gladly open the alternate route.”

“Really? That’s... that’s excellent!” A smile that a child walking into a candy store would wear quickly crept across Abyss’ face.

“You’re quite welcome, Abyss. Do you have any more questions that need answering?”

“No sir. And thank you again, Your Majesty.”

“Please, Abyss.” The king replied with a smile. “Just call me Solaris. Shall I see you tomorrow?”

“Most likely, if I haven’t gotten lost, that is!”

A chorus of chortles erupted from the two felines.

‘I think I’m going to like it here.’ Thought Abyss in his laugher. ‘Nice faces, a town to explore, and countless books at my absolute disposal. For now, I need to have a chat with a certain spiritual eagle that I haven’t seen for a while.’

“Your Maje- I mean, Solaris, I think that I should be going now. I have a few things that I need to attend to.”

Solaris nodded in compliance. “Of course, Abyss. Your escort should be waiting outside.”

“Alright. Again, thank you, Solaris.”

With that, Abyss began to walk back down the gargantuan hallway, opening the large wooden doors with a creak and disappearing behind the archway with a clank following shortly after.

‘Should I?... No. Let him enjoy his time of peace while he still can. It is best that I not pressure him with such matters at this point in time. After all, one person only handle so much at one time.’

A calm breath of oxygen filled the lungs of Solaris. Slowly, his paw began to creep inside his robe, taking out a lone scroll from the inside. His Majesty slowly unfurled the parchment once more, and began to read its contents, one line after the next.

WHOO, DOGGIE! That was a long one! Alright people, how did you like the first chapter in third-person format? Anything you thoroughly enjoyed? Anything you couldn’t stand. Please do elaborate! Also, try and guess the references made in this chapter! From what I know of, there are three; one more subtle than the other.s Until then

ALONS-Y!

P.S: My new fic, Truth from Lies, is up and running! Go check it out!

Announcement

Alright, everypony. This is something that I need to say. First off, I'm putting both this story and Truth from Lies on an indefinite hiatus. I don't know when I'll get back to them (if ever), but for know, don't expect anything. Second, yes, I will still be writing pony-related fanfiction, but don't expect anything to happen often, as I have multiple things that I need to work on other than fanfiction, so my schedule will be booked (as nearly all my free time for writing will be on the weekends). And lastly, I'm sorry for leaving all of my readers hanging without any notice.

I've just been angry at myself for not being able to pull off anything of noteworthy value. I'm always pushing myself far too hard than I should ever considering my skill level as a writer. And don't think that this is some sob-story to try and gain attention. Put again, thank you for at least sticking with me up to this point.

My next fiction is about a reverse world of Equestria, as the alter egos of each character lure Twilight into their realm with smoke and mirrors, hoping to take control of her magic.

That's all for now. I'll see the rest of you whenever. This is the Wayword Writer saying

SEASON 3 HOOOOOOO!!!!