The Last Lands

CHAPTER 4-DOWN BUT NOT OUT

Behind the golden castle, the stone sky was threaded with copper veins as the suns swan song tried to break through. An evening breeze swept itself through the surrounding thickets, frightening away the dank humidity of the jungle. Before the five of them, the open courtyard yawned, its sunken bricks seeping into the grey rocks of the mountainside. Sir Douglas took the first strides towards it, his right hand on his hilt, and his second leaning towards a dagger sheaved by his left thigh. His stride was calm, but his eyes were of a bird of prey, scrutinising every crumbling inch of the yellow walls before they had passed the gates.

Busco felt a hammering in his chest as they passed beneath the gatehouse, the shadows being thrown upon them. He watched the sword-master move ahead of them with a dancer's feet. To his right, was his master. Master Gybalt walked slowly, his eyes were immobile, but Busco knew they hid the complexity of any great machine behind them. He felt his mouth and throat dry up suddenly, but did not let himself fall into anxiety. He was well protected by the two other men here. Behind him, he knew Khol and Sareta were walking slowly. He could picture Khol holding his hands up to his chin, his back hunched with unease, even without seeing him. The courtyard was still and silent, the only sounds were the crunching of stone beneath boot and hoof. A breeze galloped itself past the walls to greet them, and Busco followed it as it sprang past Khol and throughout the gates, and into the jungle. In the distance, a bird called out, the stream babbled, but neither Sir Douglas or Gybalt said a word. They were in a trance, individual to the others, following the walls and structure with their heads, turning to follow its contours.

Busco instead turned his attention to the ground. He studied the loose rocks on the ground, grey and smooth. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes as he did so, listening to the song of the earth beneath its rocky armour. There was a voice to the old earth, but he couldn't understand what it said to him. He let the song fade back into wind, as the crunching of stone behind him grew to a halt. Here too, the rocks and wall melded. There were parts of tree jutting out from them, misplaced in between the dull gold, inter-spliced with something that should not be here. Sir Douglas continued to watch the air, a soldier in the courtyard, his hands beginning to relax themselves. As silent as the wind, Master Gybalt walked towards the hall. There were steps that led to the great wooden doors, more intersections of rock jutted out from them like needles from a pincushion. The two students watched as the grey mage ascended them with old knees, and studied the door, hovering a hand over them. There was black metal brackets along them, making a swirling pattern, and in the middle were two brass rings. His weathered fingers hovered over the rings, until suddenly he pulled his hand back with a grunt.

Khol's ears pricked up, and his eyes welled with fear.

“Master?” Busco asked quietly.

The old master traced his eyes up and down the doors, and a quiet smile formed on his face.

“There's some sort of spell on these doors.” He said loudly, stepping back, crunching one of the jutting rocks with his boot.

He continued to crane his head, studying the arches that lapped themselves around the door.

“What kind of spell?” Sir Douglas asked.

Master Gybalt descended the last two steps and walked backwards, his eyes covering every inch of the entrance.

“One that doesn't want us to get in.” He said with an air of despondence.

Busco shifted, pulling his cloak against him, feeling a chill form somewhere within the castle walls. Khol scratched the back of his head ponderously. Busco saw from his peripheral that Sareta had separated herself from the group, and with whimsical strides, moved towards the castle wall, and crouched down. Busco watched her, as she led a hand out, cradling a small white flower that pushed itself out of the wall.

“Sareta.” Came a bark, forcing her to flinch, locking eyes with a suspicious Sir Douglas.

“Don't touch anything. Stay close.” He said in his usual manner of gruffness.

Sulkily, she moved her head and back up, averting her gaze from the steel swords sent from his pale eyes.

“No, it's okay Aeinon.” Gybalt called back, still not looking at the rest of them. “I don't feel any danger here.”

Busco felt himself and Khol both relax, almost ashamed of how much tension he was holding in his lower jaw. The wind return, but this time, it carried the howl of a beast along with it. He and Khol both sent their gazes back towards from where they came, the tension suddenly rushing back like a wave.

“It's not close.” Sir Douglas said. “Maybe a legua or two away.”

“What is?” Busco asked, feeling his heartrate begin to drum again.

“It's the monster.” Sareta said quietly. “Don't you think we should start heading back now?”

“We'll be camping near here tonight.” Master Gybalt called out.

“Is that such a good idea?” Sir Douglas asked, lowering his voice.

Master Gybalt finally turned his head to them, studying the fear in the young students, scratching at his mottled mass of hair.

“Sareta, it was your idea to join us on this expedition. If you wish to continue back to the settlement, it'll be of your own volition.”

Busco and Khol shared a look of unease, as Sareta began to deflate.

“I can take her back.” Sir Douglas answered. Master Gybalt looked at him sternly.

“It's her decision, Sir Douglas, just like it was when she decided to join us. I commissioned you to protect me and my students, not every lost adventurer we come across.”

Sareta clasped each of her biceps, folding her arms into her chest, the decisions forming in her head.

“As for you two,” Master Gybalt called out, building more and more authority into his voice, “It's time we tried to open these doors.”

Busco nodded at his master, and then to Khol, who stood, a hesitating giant. Busco shifted his satchel off his shoulder and onto the floor, twisting his arm now free of its weight. Khol, began to do the same, in a more laboured fashion, still throwing Sareta a guilty look. Busco lifted his cloak off, feeling the chill now creeping along his shoulders and back.

“Busco.” Gybalt called, beckoning with his hand.

Busco breathed in deeply, and strode along the rocks until he reached the steps, feeling the might of the hall and towers standing above him.

“Let's try the door.” Master Gybalt said, ascending the stairs once more. Busco followed, feeling the traces of the songs below the rocks behind him.

The great doors stood twice as tall as him, and watched him with unformed eyes. He reached for the great brass rings, feeling his fingers hesitate. Gybalt nodded for him proceed. With a deep gasp of air, he flexed his fingers over the ring, and grasped it. There was no smooth feeling of freezing metal beneath his grip though. All he could feel was static, a curious sensation that sent him bringing back his back, the touch of a thousand invisible tendrils stroking at his palm, each of a different temperature. He sent a shocked look to Master Gybalt.

“Did you feel it?” Master Gybalt asked with indifferent eyes.

“What is it?” Busco asked.

“Some sort of barrier, I would imagine.” Gybalt asked, studying the door again. “Place your palm on the door, not the rings. Tell me what you feel.”

Busco watched his master carefully before slowly obliging. He placed his stone coloured hand on the door, seeing it ripple in the air.

“The same, it's-” He started, feeling the ticklish sting of it again. “Some sort of energy. It feels like I've placed my hand over electricity.”

“What else?”

Busco felt heat at the back of his ears, the sudden exam flushing heat over the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the strange sensation in his palm.

“It almost...” He began, choosing his words carefully while being monitored by his mentor.

“It has the same feel of energy to your magic, Master.”

“Very good.” Master Gybalt said, turning back down the steps, and beckoning him to follow again.

“Khol.” He called out. “It's your turn now.”

“To-to-to touch it?”

“No.” Master Gybalt said, shaking his head. “To try and meld with the door.”

“To...what with the door?” Sareta asked.

“Khol's gonna break the door with his magic.” Busco said with a malicious smile, and was met with a look of hurt from Khol.

“I just want you to try, Khol.” Master Gybalt said calmly.

Khol stepped towards them, inhaling serenely, and letting it release again. He widened his stance, bringing in his massive palms together. Gybalt walked behind him, watching him next to Sir Douglas. Busco, however, took a step back, throwing a protective arm in front of Sareta, ushering her back.

“What is he doing?” She asked again.

Busco chuckled.

“Khol's an artificer. This is what he does.”

Sareta's face was one of absolute confusion. Busco rolled his eyes slightly.

“He can interfuse, or meld, with inanimate objects. Most great artificers say that each object, alive or dead, has a soul a skilled mage can tap into.”

Sareta's mouth became agape.

“And Khol can do that.” She said in disbelief.

Busco snorted.

“Khol can make things explode.”

The young minotaur broke concentration at that, sending an irritated look to his friend.

“Khol.” Gybalt said sternly. “Concentrate.”

With another deep breath, Khol began to slowly raise his hands, hovering them in front of the door. He began to shake slightly, holding his breath. Busco watched as the doors remained inanimate, and one of the rings began to pull itself with invisible strings.

“Good. Keep going.”

Khol began to grunt, shaking more uncontrollably under the strain. The ring began to pull, but slowly, as if two invisible fingers grasped it from either side. A thin stream of smoke began to drift. With a mighty grunt, Khol released his hands, falling forwards onto the ground, breathing deeply.

Sir Douglas walked over to him, gently placing a hand on his back.

“I-i-i-i-'m, s-s-s-sorry master.” Khol struggled to say.

“It's alright Khol.” Master Gybalt said warmly.

“Why did you stop, Khol? You shoulda kept it up, I wanted to see the whole castle explode.” Busco said mockingly.

Khol grunted, sending a large hand back towards the earth, unleashing a spray of stones and pebbles at his laughing tormentor.

“Enough.” Gybalt said tiredly, turning to address the group. “It's getting late, so we should start thinking about camp, before any further hypothesises. Still, we've learned a lot.”

“We have?” Busco asked, eliciting a damming look from his master.

“Absolutely. You determined the barrier to be physical, barring touch of the door, rather than preventing it from being opened. Khol, however, determined that he could access the door behind the barrier with his own abilities. Which means, the doors can be opened. Just not with any magic we possess.”

The other four shared looks with each other, and then back to Gybalt with a quiet awe. Master Gybalt swept the grey hair out of his face, and rolled up his sleeve, once more revealing the three bracelets around his wrist. In the centre, a jewel caught the dying light of the sun.

Sir Douglas stood forward with a questioning look.

“Just one more test, Sir Douglas.” He said, reassuringly. “If this works, we'll be spending the night in the castle.”

Khol had stood himself up now, and was watching keenly. Busco folded his arms, holding his own chest closely, hoping for the chance to sleep indoors tonight. The four watched as Master Gybalt once again climbed the steps, flexing the fingers on his right hand.

“Stay back.” He called out, raising his right hand.

With graceful fluidity, he arced his hand up over his ear, and behind him, fingers splayed open. The jewel began to glow a deep blue. With a grunt of exertion, he sent it forward, towards the doors. The blue energy crackled around him, growing, coating his arms. The energy met and struck the barrier of the door, colliding in a brilliant flash, so great Busco shielded his eyes. In the blinding light, was the sound of a hundred knives scraping against a hundred sheets of metal.

In the midst of a blink, he heard Master Gybalt call out, before watching as the old mage was flung through the air, spiralling, and slamming against the entrance wall. He fell, crunching on the jagged rocks.

“Master!” The two students called out, running to where he lay. Behind him, Sir Douglas overtook them, kneeling by his fallen friend. His dog-face shield rolled to one side on his back, and he whipped his cloak away from under his feet.. Master Gybalt was out cold, and behind him on the ochre bricks, was a spray of crimson.

Khol knelt beside him clumsily, eliciting a distasteful look from Sir Douglas.

“Don't touch him. Leave him be for now.” Sir Douglas said, placing two fingers gently under the mage's chin.

“I-i-i-is-is-is he-?” Khol started.

Sir Douglas shook his head.

“He's unconscious. Still, we should be careful moving him until we can see what damage has been done.”

He slowly placed his hand behind the mass of grey hair, and when it returned, his two fingers were splayed with blood.

“He has a head injury. I'll have to treat it now. We can't move him until he wakes up.”

Busco watched, feeling suddenly very helpless and vulnerable without his mentor beside him. He looked back towards the old castle, the doors were unharmed, unchanged. From here, they now looked very small.

“What can we do?”

Sir Douglas wiped his hand on his trousers, then cupped his mouth in thought.

“We may have to stay here until he's awoken. Can't risk all that open ground, especially if he has a spine injury.”

“There are medics back at the camp though, surely?” Sareta said, suddenly appearing behind them, watching him curiously. When she saw the blood on the wall, her eyes widened and her skin grew paler.

“Might be.” Sir Douglas said quietly, watching Gybalt's chest rise and fall slowly.

The wind grew in ferocity, rustling their cloaks. Sareta pulled her denim jacket tighter around her.

Once more, there was a monstrous howl in the air. The same one as before, only louder now.

Busco watched as Sareta began to shake.

“Sir, I really think we should head back.” She said, no more than a whimper.

“Are you so desperate to meet the monster?” Sir Douglas said with a venomous glance. “This is the safest place we can be.”

“Yeah, we're not in Arnesfeld.” Busco said bitterly, feeling a pang of guilt as he watched the walls around her crumble.

Khol stood up, and offered a comforting arm around her, but she walked away, sitting on a large rock with her back to them. She took her hat off, and held her head in her hands.

“So what do we do now, Sir?” Busco asked, trying to keep the steel in his voice from shaking.

“We'll have to do something about those doors. Can either of you do that?”

Busco looked around at the massive gates behind them, taller than if he stood on the minotaur's shoulders.

“I can try.” Busco said. “If not, Khol could always make them explode.”

“Will you stop?” Khol asked, distressed.

Busco stood up, nodding thoughtfully as the guilt of teasing outgrew its enjoyment.

Sir Douglas stood up, walking towards the packs and pulling out a rough grey blanket he draped over the unconscious Ganders, placing another roll under his head.

“You two.” He said, wiping the dust of his hands. “Try and get a fire going, use the flint in my bag and some of those dead logs.”

He pointed with his head at a piece of black wood, displaced by improbable circumstances, now discarded by the grey rocks of the mountain.

“How do we make fire? Magic?” Sareta said quietly to Khol, who set about picking up the pieces of dried wood strewn across the floor.

What use are you here? Busco thought bitterly, as weariness, hunger and despair began to stew inside of him. He stood up, watching the oddly peaceful face of his master beneath a blanket, and strode towards the gates

This is it.

He stood beneath the open maw of the castle, reaching his arms forward, palms down, facing the earth. He closed his eyes, listening to the song again. The earth spoke to him, and this time, he could hear what it was telling him. A tightness grew in his palms, a concentration of great energy. He could feel the earth below him, and it was calling out to him. With a sharp exhale he pulled his arms upwards, but they did not raise. He felt the resistance of the earth, and he pulled harder. With a deep rumble, the earth began to rise. He pulled up again, straining against the weight of it. He had never connected with earth like this before. There was a beauty to its song, but it was unfamiliar. Coarser, harder than anything close to it on New Peridios. With a grunt he pulled further, and the earth rose more, a wall of dirt up to his waist.

Just a little more.

He gritted his teeth, his muscles began to scream, but still he pulled, the earth rose again, and with a roar he yanked his arms up over his head, and the wall rose over his head, to almost eight foot in height. Sweat began to pour from his head, and the tightness in his body loosened. He fell backwards, stopping himself with a weakened hand. He sat there panting, marvelling at his creation. There was a large gap between the rough wall pulled from beneath the skin of stone and the top of the archway, but it was enough to block the entrance.

“I think...” Busco said between pants. “That's the best...I can do.”

“Good work.” Sir Douglas said, impressed. “That should keep us safe for tonight.”

Busco walked back, with suddenly shaking legs, feeling every muscle in his body yearn for rest. Khol deposited a massive piled of wood into a pile, as Sir Douglas set about assembling a ring of stones around it. Sareta only stared at him, which he met with an annoyed glance.

“What was that?” She asked, incredulous.

“What?”

“You just made a wall? From earth?”

“Yeah? That's my thing.”

“But I thought you would all have the same kind of magic. You know, the object-soul-exploding stuff?”

Khol shook his head.

“No, the academy tries to mix us all up, so we can get used to working with other abilities and learn from them, all that stuff.”

“We do have our masters who teach us with the same tenets. Khol does, even I do.” Busco said absently, suddenly remembering his mistake.

I did. I did have a master.

"Well, Busco was the exception. See, Master Se does Balance magic, but there weren't any Elementa Masters free for Busco. It's like the most common tenet, right Busco? Whereas Balance has hardly any, but Master Se went out of her way to try and teach him some anyway. Right, Busco? Busco, am I right?"

Busco turned his spear-like eyes onto the minotaur without saying a word. The swirls of fire consuming Master Se returned to the forefront of his mind again, consuming the castle and the people around him.

“Wait a minute, tenets?” Sareta asked, clueless. Busco tsked at her.

“Don't you know anything about magic?” He asked bitterly.

Sareta looked up in thought.

“Well, father had a gardener come in every fortnight. He used to wave his hands and the plants would move. Plus, I've seen the people pushing the trams with their hands. Oh! There's that Moon Orkan restaurant where the chef puts on a fire show as he-”

“Right, right.” Busco said, waving her to be silent, rubbing his head that suddenly began to throb.

Khol had finished piling the wood and stood up to his full height, stretching slightly.

“It's the twelve tenets.” He said. “Every person who use magic has access to one of these. We can use the energy that goes through us, and it mixes with the tenet inside of us, and then it comes out differently for everyone.”

He scratched his head beneath one of his horns.

“I-i-i-is that right, Busco?” He asked coyly, glancing at the unconscious Gybalt as if he was about to wake up and scold him.

“Sort of.” Busco said sourly, wiping the sweat of his forehead.

The night descended quietly save for the chirping of insects. The flies and mosquitoes began to gather in a swarm around the fire as they ate some of their rations.

“I'll take the first watch tonight. We should be safe in here, thanks to Busco, but I'd rather not take any chances while Gybalt is unconscious.”

“Sir?” Sareta asked, in between chewing on her dried meat. She had pulled her jacket over her front as a makeshift blanket. Sir Douglas grunted in response as he stood up, silhouetting himself behind the crackling fire.

“You said the monster was about a legua away. How far is that?”

Busco snorted. Not this again. Not just as we're about to fall asleep.

“A legua is about 3 and a third miles, or roughly how long it takes for someone to walk in a hour, or so the old texts say.”

Sareta continued to nibble cautiously on her dried meat.

“But it could have gone further away, right?”

“Even if it does come back, we're well fortified here. Just try to get some sleep. I'll douse the fire now, can't risk anything smelling it more than it might already have.”

He waved away a cloud of insects, and stamped the fire until only embers remained.

Busco was wakened from more dreams of inescapable fire and burning smoke with a nudge from Sir Douglas. The forest was at its eeriest when it was silent. There was the occasional rustle and chirp from far away. It wasn't until his eyes began to droop, when he heard a rough scraping and heavy breathing from outside of the walls.

It was dawn that woke him next, this time from dreams of fantastical, many faced monsters. To his shame, he realised he had fallen asleep upright, not waking Khol for his watch. Relief washed over him as he saw everyone was still here and asleep, with Sir Douglas gently snoring and Khol breathing loudly. He poured his water-skin over a rag and dripped it into the still unconscious mouth of Master Gybalt as instructed by Sir Douglas, and used the rag to wipe at his forehead as the others began to stir.

The four ate their breakfast quietly. Busco chewed on his stale bread, letting the sound of uneasy mastication envelope the sound of the courtyard. He studied the nervous Khol, the confused Sareta and the concerned Douglas as they ate their similar meals without a word of conversation. Sareta met his eyes and darted them away, beginning to study the empty castle.

“What do you think this place is?” She said, swallowing some bread.

Khol looked round to study, but Busco and Sir Douglas remained staring at the empty halls.

“I dunno. S-s-s-some kind of castle, I guess.” Khol said with a mouthful of food.

“What a guess.” Busco said, snorting.

“Yeah, but what is a castle? Like the ones from fairy-tales and stories? I don't know, I just thought they would be grander than this.”

“Those are stories, of course they're going to be different than that in real life.” Busco said grumpily.

Sir Douglas wiped his hands of crumbs and stood up.

“We'll find out when Gybalt is awake.”

Busco popped the last of his bread into his mouth, wiping his hands on his robes.

“Whatever it is, it's not supposed to be here. That's what Master Gybalt said, anyway.”

“What does that mean?” Sareta asked.

“It doesn't matter now.” Sir Douglas said sternly. “Right now we need to think about getting your master some aid.”

“I thought we weren't going to move him.” Busco said as he stood, stretching his still aching arms.

“We don't have much choice. We don't have enough supplies to wait long, and if he's still unconscious, he might require more serious help.”

“So w-w-w-wha-what do we do?” Khol asked.

Sir Douglas scratched at his beard.

“Khol, Busco, you come with me. We're going to try and fashion a stretcher to bring him back to the settlement.”

“We're going to carry him back?” Busco whined.

“We're going to try. Come.”

The three went to their bags, as Sareta watched on.

“What about me? What should I do?” She asked.

“Stay here. Get the supplies together to leave, and watch Gybalt.” Sir Douglas ordered.

Sareta's head sunk a little bit, and Busco began to pity her, lost and alone in a new world.

“We won't be long.” He said, trying to reassure her, but she met his eyes with a look of sadness.

He strode back on the crunching grey stones to his bag and kneeled down. Sir Douglas and Khol were talking quietly, and Busco used this moment to be discreet. Tucked inside his rough-spun blanket was the hilt of a dagger. Throwing another look at the distracted two, he took his moment quickly, grasping the polished, dark wooden hilt. It was curved slightly, and gave room for a silver serrated blade. He breathed deeply, feeling his heart race at its touch. His brother's dagger, given to him before he went away.

He never said why or where he was going. Only that I might need this soon.

He fought against an escaping chuckle, realising now he was right. It was of exceptional craft, with a mark of the Silver-Dvergr, the dwarven crafts-folk that were unparalleled in their production of swords and armour. Not a cheap knife, and maybe not one best suited for hacking against trees. He felt himself lost in the silver blade, staring against angry, youthful eyes in its reflection.

“Busco.” Sir Douglas called.

Busco whipped his head around, snapping himself out of his trance. Sir Douglas beckoned him towards the two of them. Busco instinctively pushed the dagger back into its hiding place, and stood up. Sir Douglas had unrolled a set of tools, with several small knives. As Busco walked towards them, he saw Khol was already holding a small, stumpy knife that had shrunk in his giant hands. Sir Douglas pulled an even smaller one out of its sheath and flipped it, the handle facing Busco. Busco held it, feeling his heart-rate began to dull.

“We'll use these.” Sir Douglas said, pulling out his own, much larger dagger. “try to get some good sized branches, we'll tie them together for a stretcher.

“Okay, sir.” Khol said dutifully., while Busco only nodded.

The trio stepped towards the earth wall, and Sir Douglas gave a signal. Busco adopted his stance, feeling the energy well in with him, the sound of the earth in front of him. He contained the energy in his hand, clenching it into a fist, and threw it forward. The wall exploded, the rush of force sending the debris ahead of them. The sound reverberated under the gatehouse, forcing Khol to cover his ears. Busco felt his heart throbbing. The dust began to clear, and the three stepped out, back into the base of the mountain, kicking away stray clumps of dirt. There was a dip in the earth where the wall had been pulled from. The morning heat rushed out to meet them, as they stood staring at the mass of the jungle before them. It stretched out beyond reckoning, seeming to grow only deeper and taller.

“Stay close together.” Sir Douglas said. “No wandering off, and watch your fingers when you're using those.”

The three fanned out, blades in hand. Busco began to make himself a pile, sawing and hacking at the branches, clearing off the stray twigs as he lay them. He could hear the louder smacks of blade against tree from the other two, but save for that, the jungle was quiet. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and he moped at it with his wool cloak. He took a moment, hearing the swipes of metal against tree fade out, and the distant sounds of the empty jungle take point. Bird calls and rustling of leaves, insects buzzing. Directly in front of him, the movement of an animal. He stood upright, clenching the tiny knife tightly, wishing for his brother's blade. His eyes were iron, focusing directly on the mass of trees and ferns in front of him. It was silent again, for a second, and Busco assumed whatever it was had bounded away, until he heard it breathing. It was loud, far louder than an ordinary person's breath. It reminded him of the noise from last night. He steadied himself, ready to call out, when he saw the golden orbs in the black spaces between the leaves, just before they moved towards him.

With a snarl the creature moved with ferocious speed, knocking him down, onto the rocks behind him, every bit of air escaped him. The creature bounced off of him, the great weight of it freeing his burning muscles. His vision began to blur, but whatever was on top of him was huge and powerful, reeking of damp dog and blood. One of its mighty paws pushed itself down on top of his shoulder, squeezing his lungs and forcing jagged rocks into his back. He opened his mouth to scream, but his chest was empty. Its great jaws opened, and soon the only thing that existed this world was a row of swords embedded into gums. The knife had been thrown from his hand, and his arms were useless.

With a great roar, the minotaur threw himself against the creature. Its weight was thrown of him, leaving him gasping and coughing. He rolled over, feeling the stones against his fingers, willing his vision to stop swirling. His ears rang with the chorus of a thousand church bells, as he heard the crunching of stone heading towards him. Before he had time to be afraid, he saw the burst of silver dust beneath leather boots and a reverberation that resembled his name.

“Busco! Are you alright?” Sir Douglas asked, reaching for him.

Busco turned to see the panting Khol, looking back at his two companions, eyes a mass of fear and adrenaline.

“Get back!” Sir Douglas shouted, brandishing his shining sword.

Busco scrambled away, his flight response rewiring his brain to be a creature that knew nothing except to flee. He felt two great paws on his shoulders, twisting in fear, only to see the kind eyes of his friend, who yanked him to his feet. Busco stumbled, falling against a tree. Sir Douglas stood in front of him, gleaming sword held in both hands, and before them, was the creature, reeling in the dust before the trees and dirt.

“Run! Back to the castle!” Sir Douglas yelled.

In an instant, Busco and Khol spun on their toes and raced up the mountain slope, scrambling with both hands and feet. Busco turned and saw Sir Douglas, deftly moving backwards, keeping the beast in his sight, as it began to stand up again on its four feet. As they reached the top of the slope, they broke into a full sprint, back to the open gates of the old golden castle. There was a beating of a drum. Claws against stone. The beast was on them again.

It pushed its massive head against Sir Douglas as it sprinted past him, lifting him off his feet with its great snout, his yell muffled with surprise. His sword flew through the air, landing after he did, closer to the castle than they. Busco grabbed at Khol's arm, trying to push him behind him, but his strength couldn't move the minotaur.

“Sir Aeinon!” Khol called out.

The creature spun on its paws, a great dust cloud birthed from its landing. Here, in the dismal grey light of morning, Busco could see it for what it was. It stood almost as tall as he, well over six foot, on four massive palms. Where it not for the size of its jaw, Busco might of thought of it as a massive wolf. It's jaws were elongated, like a crocodile's, and through its snarl he saw dozens of razor-like teeth. It was several shades of brown, growing darker towards the bottom of its limbs and its speckled hide, and along its back reached a long, black mane towards a bushy tail that whipped at the wind. Busco stared at its golden eyes, sensing a feral hatred unlike anything he had ever witnessed before.

There was a moan below it, as Sir Douglas struggled his head up, in between them and the beast. Busco felt his boots sink into the mountain's surface, song at the ready. The creature leapt towards Sir Douglas, a mighty pounce on fallen prey. Busco pushed his foot into the earth, feeling it swallow him up to his ankle, feeling it like a warm embrace. He was a creature of instinct now, and flight had given way to fight. As soon as his foot was one with the earth, a piece of jagged earth had jumped out in front of him, coated in stones and ore. Busco felt it, an extension of himself and the earth had separated, hovering in the air. He pushed his fist forward, striking at it like he did at the wall. With a clap of force, the earth went sailing towards the creature like a cannonball, striking it in the side just as both paws landed on either side of Sir Douglas's shoulders. With a whimper the creature was sent flying back down the mountain slope, scrabbling as it fell, until only a cluster of dust remained. Khol immediately set towards Sir Douglas helping him up and checking for wounds. Busco stared at where the beast once was, and to his hands. He had channelled the sounds of the earth and made them move. Not anywhere in New Peridios, from the training grounds of the academy to the parks of Heather Gardens had it been so easy.

“Busco, you did it!” Khol shouted, elated.

“Nice shot.” Sir Douglas wheezed, stumbling towards his sword.

“You took it out!” Khol continued, opening his arms to embrace his friend.

There was a snarl, and the sound of moving rock, as the creatures' head revealed itself again.

“Down, but not out.” Sir Douglas said, clutching his weapon. “Move! Back to the castle!”

The three sprinted once more, this time with more of a lead. The gates seemed only to grow further, as Busco's mind whirled, ready to hear what the earth had to say. This time, the wall would be twice as tall, ready to collapse and bury it. Every organ and muscle began to cry out, but soon they would be inside and safe, at least, that's what he had been hoping for before he saw that she was outside.

Like a lost child, Sareta stood with trembling hands both clutching a small knife she had taken from Sir Douglas's arsenal. She was ten feet from the gates, her hat sitting on top of her shaking head. Her eyes were wide, and looking at the creature, her legs looked like they were about to buckle. The three reached her quickly, waving their arms madly.

“Get back! Get back inside!” They cried.

She would not move, staring at the pursuing creature.

“It-it's the monst-”

Busco and Khol reached the great doors, looking back to see that Sareta was a statue, and Sir Douglas had turned, sword raised, and the creature leapt once more. Before Busco could even feel the energy dwelling in the base of his palm or the bottom of his finger tips. Sir Douglas was in front of her, with only his blade before the beast. The great creature's jaw snapped shut, as the blade slid in between its great teeth, crunching against the steel. Sir Douglas yelled out, as its massive jaw was long enough to reach his forearm, sinking into his leather bracers and chain, dropping small blots of blood. Busco ran towards Sareta, pulling her behind him.

“Get back!” He yelled, moving towards the creature, which twisted its head, lifting Sir Douglas once more off of the ground, as he struggled to pull his arm from the monster's mouth, dragging him along by his knees along the jagged surface.

Busco ran to help, just as the creature turned, knocking him down with its mighty hide. He felt the surface rise up to meet his back, the rock and stone sinking their teeth into him. The beast dropped the struggling Sir Douglas onto the ground, and he slumped, the sword once more slipping through his fingers. Busco felt the earth beneath his fingers and heels, heeding to the earth's song, but he was deaf to it. The creature turned to him, Aeinon's blood leaking from his mouth. It set its golden eyes on him again. He was the prey, and it was the predator. This was the order of things on this world.

There was a flash of blue, white and violet. A burst of energy that sprung past him, rustling against his platinum hair and wool cloak. It struck the creature, a blinding flash that rippled and screeched as it had when it had struck the door. The creature roared, as the screeching overtook its sound, and the flashing died down with its silence. As Busco's eyes began to spot from the light, he saw the creature had disappeared. The blood remained on the rocks, and soon only dust and pebbles remained. Sir Douglas struggled himself up, looking back with amazement, and Busco followed the direction.

Leaning against the doors, was the bandaged and wheezing Gybalt. His cloak was roughly thrown on, and the bracelets on his wrist were steaming.

“Don't worry.” He panted. “I got him.”