This idea for a story would literally never leave me alone until I finally put it down on ! I hope its good enough to satisfy! :)
Please no flames! R&R PLEASE!
There was blood staining his hands. It dripped from his fingertips, tracing intricate patterns across the young man's hands. The little traces of blood left on his hands looked very much like the tattoo of the Diamir. Only it was still running down his arm. The liquid had gathering up into a scarlet pool at his feet. His old leather boots that he had worn for the past several years were stained at the red liquid lapping at his heels like a dog. And he had loved it. A predator groveling in its victims' blood, a ferocious animal that seized being a slave long ago.
That's what he was, a danger to those he once held dear.
Gold eyes gleamed in the darkness surrounding his body. Their color no longer held the light and innocence of the young man. No, his orbs had a much more sinister feel in those amber eyes, the ones that seem to appear and disappear at will in the shady corners of the five kingdoms of Albion. The moment anyone looked was the moment they could no longer walk alone in the dark.
He was in a part of the Darkling Woods that not even a hunter dare venture in. No light could ever penetrate the leaf and branch layer from the top of the forest. The leaves were as hard as oak, and they never fell when winter came. No rain reached its barren surface, nor sunlight could reach the light deprived plants. Any who tried to grow and blossom in this foul place was swallowed by the shadows, never to be seen. Many a farmer had believed this place was cursed.
For awhile it seemed for once the peasants were correct. Any man foolish enough to venture in this forbidden sanctuary was found with his throat slashed the next morning. Once, even the King had sent men to investigate the mysterious demise of his people. He believed it was a common cutthroat waiting for innocents to wander into his grasps.
How His Majesty could be so wrong.
The soldiers were laid across tree trunks with branches piercing their corpses and their necks nearly covered in thorns. Blood soaked the thirsty ground and ever since the grass that had tried to spread there had been the color scarlet. The King then decided to make sure none dared enter these feared places again. He wrote it into law, and since that time of Uther's father, none were stupid enough to venture into the Cursed Oaks.
But only those who had magic could enter, as the place was an ancient home of the Druids. But it had been abandoned a long while ago. The peace-caring people could no longer stand life deprived of the light.
Soon enough, the man had ventured here. He grew to love the darkness, the silence and fear it brings. The ever midnight sky. All of the details that farmers and knights feared and cowered before never frightened him. The trees with their large limbs, especially the way how the cold wind brushed lightly against the wood's surface and made the branches clatter together like the shaking of bones.
The blackness keeping him hidden was crushing, not suffocating like he had expected. Yet, it was still enough to make him squirm uncomfortably. But that was why he loved the shadows. No one had ever seen him flinch, or even shed a look of terror. Not even for the high and mighty King Arthur of Camelot.
His sneer at the thought of the man he once held a friend was frightening. He could tear the king apart in the chaos he was destined to ensure. It just made it all the more laughable about how long the pathetic kingdom had survived so many magical attacks. All of the sorcerers plotting to kill Uther, then Arthur, and even the great Merlin himself, those plans had been his own, his own plans and ideas to topple the kingdom of Albion into his own hands.
The man's smile held even more fear than before. His canines looked sharp enough to rip through steel. The teen's teeth gleamed like the star of the North on a cold winter's night. But it was as if looking at a false hope straight in the face, a killer showing that he was sorry. All a facade to lure the innocents into blindly following him like a lamb to slaughter. All that in his grin.
Because when a predator smiles, the man snickered to himself, the hunt has already been won.
Entertained by the thought, his fingers danced across the wall near him. The man tapped out a hymn he had known since he had been born, one that spoke of great kings and the wonders of magic. Uther had made it illegal ages ago to ever utter a word of those ancient songs. Even the knights wouldn't follow this command. Music had a way into the hearts of the masses. No matter the penalty those hymns evolved into works of elegance and grace, and with him they stayed.
Memories always made the man tense. Delving too deep within his host's mind could cause him another black out, and let the Other regain control of himself. Temporarily of course. The Other was far too weak because of the grief he had of his friends, who he believed he had lost. And by the time the Other had realized that he was no longer himself, he had taken over.
But it hadn't been easy. The host had been fighting against his control for a very long time. Each time the Other had grown stronger both in strength and endurance. Yet he had won.
For months now, he couldn't feel his host's presence nor feel the normally relentless magic berating his every step. It was the only factor that could send himself and his plans to the burning pyre. He shivered, both in horror and fright of the memory of flames.
The way their heated tongues licked every surface capable to burn. The snapping and flashing of its unholy light. And the burning. He always feared the scent of charred flesh, the searing heat scorching into his skin, and the smoke snaking its way into his lungs. So many had been engulfed in that inhuman way to die. And as the onlookers watched, their utter amazement sickening to the stomach, he remembered the face of Uther Pendragon.
Proud, smug, and even laugh at the ending of another's life, literally burning until the wind put the flames out in pity. The pyre was the only thing that had ever haunted his steps, a phantom in the night hiding behind dark corners of a supposedly safe place. He was the only thing that was supposed to cause fear, and here he was feeling the thing he created.
Snapping his jaws in hatred, he knew that soon enough, Camelot would soon feel the fire. His flames that enveloped the city in burning tentacles. And he will laugh as they die, writhing in the flames of the very thing the kingdom sought to destroy. Sorcery.
Just then, the man hunched over in a deep, bellowing pain that radiated from his skull. He fell to the earth, flailing in agony as a mental sword drove its way through his head. He unintentionally screamed; a shrill and scratchy sound that sounded a mix between the roar of a dragon and the cry of a griffin. A powerful voice broke through his mental wall, yelling at him.
You'll never get away with it!
And yet, despite the ferocity of the anguish ringing through his veins with each pump of his heart, the man chuckled. But it also had him sharply intake a breath as he felt a twinge of internal pain in his chest.
The unoriginal use of the phrase had made him laugh. That was the best that the Other could think of? A phrase that men in his situation use to delay the inevitable? Cruelly, he pushed the surge of magic back down, which allowed the pain to whither and ebb away as well. But spots still teetered on the edge of his eyes, making the man feel unsteady on his feet. It was as if he were drunk.
Oh my dear Other, the man mocked as the life force of his host seemed to abate back to whatever place it had come from, can you not see that Camelot is already doomed? For as your destiny is to rebuild Albion,
The man smiled as he walked from the clearing, into the busy marketplace of the famous kingdom of Camelot. In front of him, was the castle.
Mine is to watch it burn back to the ground.
The title of the story was thanks to my brilliant friend, Adeliade! THANK YOU!
Please R&R before you leave!
Review Question: Who do you think is the Other?
Dragon Out!