Only one light graced these long forgotten damp tunnels. A light in the hands of Kozmotis Pitchiner. Every once in a while water would trickle down on top of him, only to be quickly shaken off.
Kozmotis gritted his teeth. A stupid idea, to go into a Fearling's territory to hunt it down. Well, it hadn't been like he had many other options here, with a Fearling on the loose. Usually he didn't have to deal with tracking and so forth in Fearling hunting. The proud beasts always raced out of their lairs like angry bees after intruders when a hunter (or anyone else, for that matter) stepped inside.
This Fearling was different. Behaved differently. Locally it was called the 'Nightmare King', of all things. Certainly fit in with a typical Fearling's arrogant pride. But unlike other Fearlings, it didn't rush out when he and his men located its lair. Instead, it let them wander its caves without much response at all. At first.
Kozmotis wasn't sure exactly when the first of his men disappeared. Only that it had, and when he noticed, he ordered the rest to watch each others' backs, to avoid getting picked off.
It hadn't worked. No matter how carefully they all watched, inevitably there would be another one missing. One by one, until he was alone, in the darkness.
The General hoped, against all odds, that this 'Nightmare King' had far more ego than hunger, enough ego to spare his men to gloat over them instead of devouring them. Being devoured by a Fearling was a horrible way to die, he had seen it far too many times. The chance of their survival was less than slim but still he hoped.
Such is the nature of hope.
"Hello General." Kozmotis tensed at the sudden words seemingly out of nowhere. The voice echoed through the tunnel, lacking the hiss most Fearlings spoke in and sounding strangely familiar.
His hand shot to his sword hilt, enjoying the feel of hard starsteel. "What have you done to my men, Fearling?"
Rich deep laughter seemed to come from everywhere at once. "How very typical. No need to fear for them, I assure you." Shadows deepened, darkened. "There is, however, every reason for you to fear." The light flickered, darkness almost alive in its dancing movements. Complete and total, the black closed in around the lone figure.
Kozmotis laughed.
A loud bright sound that drove the dark shrinking back like a frightened dog. "You'll have to try harder than that, Nightmare King. You're not the first Fearling I've faced."
The voice spoke again, somewhat smug. "I thought as much. Your fame in the Army has spread. A man like you isn't afraid of the dark or even what hides in it. No, a man like you..." The next words hissed into his ear, a mere whisper. Kozmotis almost jumped. How had the Fearling gotten so close without his realizing it? "...fears for others. Fears for loved ones. A mother and a daughter, perhaps? What would happen if one of your many enemies paid them a visit while you were on some important mission? Gone in a flash, nothing left to go home to."
The General frowned, unable to fully suppress the shiver now running down his spine. What kind of Fearling could so easily pick its way past the mind's defenses, to find your deepest fears to use against you? All Fearlings could in some degree, but none before had done anything more than take a form of some awful beast. None had spoken his fears so clearly before.
Only a powerful, ancient Fearling could have built up enough power to do so. Such a Fearling would have long ago acted against the light of the Golden Age if not prevented from doing so somehow.
"Who fought you before?"
Shadows rippled. "What does it matter?"
"Anyone fighting darkness is my concern," Kozmotis said evenly. "Now, tell me, Fearling, what were their names? Surely it cannot take much effort to recall those who defy such a mighty king."
He asked on two factors that could win him a truthful answer. Flattery to the creature's ego and the fact that the 'Nightmare King' was probably self-aware enough to remember more than past meals.
A snort. "If you care so much, they called themselves the Guardians." Deep hatred taints the word.
Called? Kozmotis's heart sank. Whoever these 'Guardians' were, the past tense the creature spoke of them in was not a good sign for them. "You killed them."
"Me?" Another laugh. "No, never, no matter how hard I tried. But now they just don't exist. Not now."
Something moved behind him. He whirled around, only to see nothing. Nothing but darkened tunnel.
"Careful, General," The Fearling mocked. "One might think you are...afraid." The light flickered again and Kozmotis suddenly had the feeling there was more down here than just him and a lone Fearling. Was that...nickering?
"Show yourself." He drew his blade, silver metal gleaming.
"As you wish." Someone appeared out of the shadows, gaunt and tall. But one feature in particular caused Kozmotis to stare in horrified shock. The Fearling, the Nightmare King, had his face. Pale, thin, all harsh cheekbones, but still his face. Golden eyes of a predator stare back at him.
It (he?) smiled. "Boo."