Well fuck me. I hate ff and its upload system. Idk how the hell the documents got switched. But the chapters were backwards. Im sorry to anyone reading and getting caught in my blunders. Anyway, the chapters have been fixed, and im sorry for ruining shit. For that, i will be posting the fixes, as well s additional chapter to he one that was spoiled, this week. Cuz fuck it, yall need some continuation instead of going backwards. whoever is reading this if anyone, please forgive me.
After becoming bread in an oven, Haley was now melted ice cream in a freezer. Connecting that with sandpaper in her throat, she was just peachy.
She attempted to rest after being lulled by the rhythmic sound of Diarmuid's heart beat and his melodious reciting, "The Greedy Fox", an Irish Folktale of a Fox that overindulged in her consumption of the best fish. Despite that, the consistent changing in the Arena's climate only agitated her senses.
Diarmuid of course was wide awake, utilizing his bat like hearing and hawk like eyesight, to be aware of their surroundings. Haley's protective bear was so considerate to permit her to use his thorax as a pillow. When she sought out to lie together with him, she had surmised he would be hesitant, or downright reject the suggestion: But instead, he seemed to ponder over it for a second, then succumbed openly.
If only the proposal had the benefit of slumber. Using the curse healing magic drained her energy, even if it were a simple removal this instance. Instead, she lay wide awake admiring her friend's toned figure. Contemplating the effort to maintain such a state, she trailed her fingers softly along every contour of his taut muscle.
Lost in thoughts of being parched, knackered, and slight melancholy over the events this particular Round that came forward, Haley examined the watch. 376 Hours. So, possibly six more hours until she hears the familiar sound of the audience, and the faces of the Panel.
The judges of their match that she decided, she despises.
Not wanting to delve deeper into the semantics that was this tournament deteriorating her mind, Haley turned her cheek, absorbing the manly aroma that was Diarmuid. He will be fine. We will win this tournament and save him. We have to. I won't accept anything else.
"My lady, something approaches." Diarmuid said wearily, steadily severing their link with a tinge of disappointment. He was rather enjoying their canoodling.
The Knight defensively stood and his hand's flexed for weapons that were absent. It would be difficult to fend off a horde without something—but with his history—at least manageable. A ferocious beast simple enough. He dread what advanced to be a team looking to achieve that reward for killing Detainers. At least if he were finding mindless Arena scum, the chances of Haley being their sole target were low. The foulest outcome would be the Undead, as those asinine existences were undefeatable unless struck in the brain or beheaded.
Wretchedly, the Arena disliked him and the most unfavorable of the options popped its head over the cacti. It was foul that the wobbling figures inching themselves closer were dressed in tacky, orange jumpsuits.
Mismatched eyes shot to the woman behind him, hooking her lower lip under her top teeth. Flashbacks of the beginning of their round spun. They had only escaped the army of Undead because of a fire user. If they could just meander away and trigger their perception, they could ease their way out of this.
The warrior crouched in the usual position, his Lady already climbing him like a latter. The two connected together once more, cautiously working their way down the slope. Their efforts were positive: passing shrubs and various pillars of red rock. It all seemed well, to avoid their persuars.. Until a twig snapped underfoot.
Two pairs of eyes drifted downward, as the two legs on the ground took two steps back. Beneath them, in the trench of the stone, laid a nest capable of housing thirty men. It was littered with pieces of human skeletal systems bringing both competitors to gulp. Whatever made this—
A slight breeze blew past them accompanied by a rustle of bushes and crackle of earth under something heavy's feet.
Haley went rigid, feeling heat from a large breath centimetres from ears. Her face turned only an inch to catch tendrils on scaly flesh flaring. Round, lavender eyes with a thin, white sack blinking, and of course: A pointy snout separated, flashing layers of pointed teeth dripping in fluid. Oh fuck.
Diarmuid retracted his previous statement about the Undead being their foulest adversaries. Because this was far, far worse. What was he to do against a blasted dragon with no weapons? At least they would eventually outrun the Undead but this..?
The explosion of sound made by the massive paws with claws the size of Diarmuid's arm bounced off the walls of the Canyon. Vision was lost in the fury of dust and Gravel. The Knight had managed to escape the crushing defeat the hand would have given them.
With ferocity the dragon bellowed a cry so loud every nerve in the companions body's erupted in shivers.
"Diarmuid we gotta get outta here!" Haley shouted, slapping herself inwardly for her cowardice.
"Trust me my Lady, I know!" Diarmuid explained back, leaping away from another close encounter with the dragon's colossal strength.
Frantic eyes traveled the Arena, looking for their best chances of escape. However, the terrain easily hindered their escape. Eerie wales followed suit, as the Undead latched on to their position like a dog on the scent.
Curses left both their lips, as the Undead trampled towards them like a herd of antelope. Wind blew past, as Diarmuid skidded down the slanted path of cacti and bushes. His skin felt like it was being pricked by pins and needles. Behind him the dead followed, but the flying ophidian above him is what affrighted him most. Each flap of the timber wings drew the beast closer.
It was futile trying to outrun the menace with Haley on his backside.
The fleeing warrior whipped around to avoid crashing jaws that uplifted earth. Fabrics split under digging nails and a moan of evil had him recoil. He glanced at the graze upon his arm begging the God's it not deep enough to corrode his soul.
It was then the golden plated watch buzzed—startling them both—all the while Diarmuid landed his foot in the ghoul's face, knocking the staggering body into the dirt. Haley could not fathom why not, of all times, this would be when they send her an alert!
Haley barely could catch the words on the small screen, since the vigorous swaying of dodging bodies and claws hindered her focus. It was only when they hiked further down the mountainside they reached a heavy wall of stone that covered them, that she registered the message. With a Lilac symbol in the shape of the a three budded clover—that she swore she remembered— she read it:
Hover the Ruby key over the watch, sweetheart.
"Had it said anything helpful?" Diarmuid asked leering past the wall of rock to see the Undead growing obnoxiously closer, and the Dragon that lurked above.
"Hang on," Confused, Haley dug in her torn jeans pocket, and pulled the very key in the memo and did as instructed.
Bright, red light burst from the key, and before Diarmuid and Haley could adjust, a clang cut off the shine. Before them, a blade outlined in red with black in the middle with a silver and red handle, laid in the dirt. Accompanying it: a long, red spear, with a note attached.
You may keep these for the rest of the tournament: should you survive the Dragon.
Joy filled the Warrior's heart as he graced his palms with his precious weapons and he should keep them, because in no way would he not prevail. A doubtless smile spread like butter across his face.
The Knight's strength was amplified ten fold by the delight in his form alone. With the screech of Undead meters in the distance, Diarmuid ambushed the unsuspecting meddlers with ease. The familiar cold steel in his palms of Moralltach and Gae Dearg amplified each swipe of rolling heads.
A snarl erupted in the Arena from above. The mythical reptile's jaws unleashed a blast of air, splitting the geography apart. Canyon crumbled underfoot, leaving little room for Diarmuid to maneuver the playing field.
Across the newly made trench the Undead shuffled restlessly. Some scurried to their final falls while others found their way around. Diarmuid's furious blows kept them at bay but the Dragon breathing down his back was of a different matter.
The Arena was pulverized by currents of air that Diarmuid steered away from. Other contenders appeared, and disappeared from the mighty being's attacks. Few arrows and shots were heard in the Canyon's echoes, and yet the circling predator was unphased.
In a swoop the creature glided in the air, releasing spikes that impaled unsuspecting combatants. While the thought was daring and even downright hazardous, Gae Dearg joined Moralltach in Diarmuid's right hand.
"Lady Haley, I am to leave you here." He said, slipped her off his back and glaring into those crystal blue eyes that questioned this action. A last read on their surroundings told the warrior there were no enemies close, besides the hovering dragon. "Have faith in your Knight, for I will grant you victory. Do you trust me?"
That was a silly question. Diarmuid was the only person Haley had full faith in, he needed to know that.
"Always." Haley cupped his cheek in her right hand, "I don't know what you're planning but come back to me." She said, raising on her toes to plant a reassuring kiss on his cheek.
"I… will return. I swear." He replied, slightly taken aback by the doting gesture. Another bellow dulled the surprise and in the distance being eaten by the airborne assailant.
A scheming Knight latched onto the thick hairs that maimed the long neck of the mythical beast. His Lady's eyes followed the fight in the sky. Diarmuid rode the beast like a horse taking the furs on its wide nape like they were reigns. A gargantuan body ran amok thrashing about in the upper atmosphere.
Tears stung Diarmuid's eyes from the velocity. His biceps shook from the force, desperately trying to keep hold of the hairs that kept him in flight. Still, he dragged his muscular arms up the body of the beast, worming his way to the vitals that would secure an advantage.
Mountains bombarded the body of the beast, dragging the mounted warrior across it. Nerves screamed from being shredded. Only a wince escaped the courageous man nearing eye sockets. Horns that spiked from its head provided the support Diarmuid needed as he thrust the length of Gae Dearg deep into the slits that stared up at him.
Gore painted the sky followed by a piercing shriek. The momentum then dipped downward and the wrath of the dragon sloshed Diarmuid in the riverbank. Water burned through his nostrils, clogging his lungs from air, yet he drove his spear deeper, causing the bashing dragon to exit rushing water.
In a quick yank, the spear released and Diarmuid ejected from the scaly monster. He sprint across the rocky bottom of the canyon, aiming for the crevice where the walls came together. A gaping maw of death lingered closely behind, ready to swallow him whole. Yet, he increased his pace, parkouring the walls of the canyon.
The gorge cut into itself where he halted, the space ever tightening. Wings clipped in the narrow space, and Diarmuid rose his crimson blade over his head.
"AUUHHH, MORALLTACH!"
Haley raced to the canyon's edge when the beast harboring her Knight dashed from the sky to the ravine. The combating myths were scuffling in water and were mere ants marching in the crevices. It was only when the walls of earth came crashing down like a landslide that she understood Diarmuid's insane plot.
Boulders and walls tumbled like an avalanche—consuming the beast in their descent. That crazy freckin Knight… Haley thought, slightly panicked that the man got caught in his own trap. Diarmuid, please tell me-
I am fine, though I had not anticipated being so low in the gorge. My Lady, please, please find cover. I wish nothing to happen to you without my being there!
An exasperated sigh exited the marveled woman's lips. That man was incredible, and damn she was lucky he was on her side, worrying for her.
Haley pivoted on her heels, a warming feeling making her heart thump harder. Did she really drop a peck on a dead man's cheek? She did, but she'd be lying to herself if she didn't believe his soul was more alive than most people in the world.
"Why did I do that..? Because.. I trust him?" Or the latter. Jeez, if she knew any better, her cheeks were warm because she was blushing, not because the sun- "THE SUN!"
Beyond the peaks of the canyon, brilliance broke through so bright the back of a hand dry, cracked hand. When the illumination ceased roaring of cheers shook the stadium.
Haley threw her rear onto the cool cement. She didn't think she would ever appreciate a controlled temperature more than she did now.
"Welcome back participants! My my, that was quite the show!"
Haley sucked her teeth. Riiiiight, she exists. Chestnut colored hair tilted back, and azure eyes observed a missing ceiling. So that's how they fit those monstrous mountains. The dome is even more like a roman coliseum that I thought.
Briscella's obnoxious boasting of round's trials were drowned out from Haley's thoughts, while she focused her attention on the teleporting threats of the challenges they faced. A scorn crossed her features at the lost souls that were Undead. It was awful that was done to the participants. Haley had disliked their approach to the souls in the world, despite whatever it is that brought them here, but that was too cruel for words.
With Briscella finally releasing them to the healers, Diarmuid searching gaze found the Lady, and relief struck his quivering bones. It was not a decision he made lightly, leaving her to her own accords. He feared a repeat of Mistress solo-ui, but thankfully time had been on their side.
And then there was that… kiss.
No. It were just the Lady showing her loyalty to me. Emotions turbulence, like swirling storm clouds, Diarmuid offered the Lady a wave with a strained smile. "Lady Hal-"
Crystal eyes lit like a bulb, and Haley launched like a jet into the unsuspected arms of Diarmuid. A warrior such as himself, able to fend off his Lord against great armies and yet he still was caught off guard by a single woman. His lips tugged at the corner.
"Gosh! You rode a DRAGON! Then you crushed a CANYON! Jeez you're so…!" What word could she use to explain this oaf? Reckless? Insane? Ridiculous? "Unbelievably amazing." Well, that worked, too. "I'm so glad you're okay."
Diarmuid cradled her forehead to tap his chest, "Of course, I swore I would, did I not?"
"Yeah, yeah you did." Haley replied, but kept the fear for her Knight tucked away in his caressing hold.
"Ey, yer suppose to leave the Stadium," A gruff, woman's voice spat from behind Diarmuid, "Off to the Healers, or get escorted outta here."
"Sorry, we will go ri-" Familiar, amber eyes and gold lips smirked at them. "Trista, hey!" Haley lit up for a second, then cast her gaze to her feet when the woman in her warrior's dress lowered her head. Right, we aren't supposed to be familiar.
"Yeah, I know yer gonna listen." She only offered them a wink, "Go on, git."
Diarmuid and Haley exchanged smiles with each other, and both lowered themselves in a grateful bow.
Trista watched the two lovebirds meander to the bleachers, and sighed. "See y'all again soon." She whispered, then sauntered off.
Forty-three. Only 43 Forsaken left. Disbelief set in from the results reflecting on the watch, and plastered all over the screen in their cozy hotel room. Their numbers wilted like flower petals, each being plucked by a lovesick woman.
The tournament gave no heed to breaks. They only had two day's rest, and the countdown began in an hour. It seemed their Hosts were in a rush to move the tournament along to the next boss battle.
Haley peered over to her Knight. Late morning sun softened the harsh edges of his expression. Freshly showered, the man was dressed in a humble tank top that contoured to his muscle. Tight, black jeans framed his legs, but his feet were bare.
Back propped against a stack of pillows and legs stretched out before Diarmuid lounged with a sizable book in his lap. One hand held the binding, while long fingers flipped through the pages, entirely engrossed.
He seemed to be tranquil, eyes tracking the lines of the story. Haley inched closer, and caught a snippet of the text. "And within the realms of the Underworld, a divine spirit was entrusted, an arch angel of sorts, meant to ward off intruders." Eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, "A story of the Underworld, I presume?"
"Indeed. It tells of how the Observers came to be, and their purpose. After our short rekindling with Trista, and spotting this book in the Hotel's Library, my curiosity piqued." Diarmuid closed the book and planted it softly into the cushions of the couch. "While my Spirit belongs to Hades, this realm before the Underworld does not. Not entirely."
The idea of Diarmuid's soul belonging to well, anyone definitely darkened Haley's energy. Hades even more so. "Who does it belong to, then?" She asked to occupy her thoughts with Diarmuid's new insight.
The dark haired man outspread his arm and angled his head for the Lady to occupy a seat in the empty spot next to him. She obliged and coiled his arm over her shoulder and brought her into his hip.
Haley was surprised by the invite to cuddle but was greeted by the fresh scent of pine, and soap. It was a nice earthy smell that reminded her of his home that he boasted about.
"Heaven has a Saint that guards the gates in the afterlife. This one soul has access to what is called, "The Lamb's Book of Life". Should your name be recorded, you are granted eternal life. If not…" Diarmuid's eyes shifted downward to the crystal blue ones sympathizing with him, "If not, they cast down to the Gates of the Underworld. It is an abyss that simulates the world, not guarded nor owned by anyone. Rather, it is borrowed by Hades himself. The river of Styx flows through here, connecting Earth to the Underworld. This is where the Shadows drag our souls to." Warrior fingers grazed under soft bangs that covered those beautiful eyes, "To ensure that no other entity attempts to disrupt the order, Observers—the army of the Archangels—guard it."
"Huh.. that's actually interesting." Haley said, "So the Observers are like angels themselves."
Diarmuid shook his head, "They are not necessarily angels, but rather spirits granted angelic abilities. Still, they are powerful, and just."
Haley nodded with a new found respect for those souls. Their attitudes somewhat make sense. If their entire existence here in this world was for keeping entities out.. Then.. This tournament was probably a huge hassle.
The Lady shifted, staring down at her own loose, pink robes. Factors surrounding this competition were intolerable. Gods, torture, Observers, bounty hunters, ghosts from Diarmuid's past, and… the loss that accompanied all of it.
"So, Lady Haley, how are you fairing?" The Knight said, as if reading her very thoughts.
"I.. don't know. Honestly, so much has happened over the course of.. Two weeks? Almost three…? And it feels like I've been hammered by a truck." She said, voice soft and hoarse, "I'm just.. Sorting out how to handle it all, and still manage to save you." Something she feared not even possible.
The Lady brushed loose hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck. This woman.. Was so beautiful. More than that, she was genuine. Despite the circumstances that brought her to this realm, she never lost heart. Stayed true to her word, regardless of the perils that challenged her.
She needn't be so troubled, "I see. Might I make a suggestion?"
The conflicted woman leered at Diarmuid with mystified eyes, nodding ever so slightly.
In a swoop of brevity, the Knight scooped the worrying woman in his arms. Her long legs kicked over his hard biceps. She was light as a feather, yet lovely and serene. "Hey!" He kept his gaze away from her startled features, and plopped her on the bed with a playful bounce.
"Refrain from troubling yourself over it." A quirky grin spread across Diarmuid's face when the Lady snatched and threatened him with a pillow, "Do you plan to smuggle me to death, my Lady?"
"Ohh, me? A woman? I could never!" The woman launched the pillow for the handsome man's face. Of course his reflexes were sharper than a sword, and the pillow was caught mid hand.
But he was against a telekinetic.
Mindful energy smothered those cursed eyes in the very pillow he caught by his own hands.
"MMmmfff!" Diarmuid gargled, feeling a sensation of waves tingling in his bones dragging his dancing legs into the bed.
"What was that…? Sorry, couldn't hear you under the pillow," Haley giggled as he wriggled, "Come on, give me the signal that says you yield!"
If only the woman could see him smirking through the soft throws. If she were to allow his hand free to signal any sort of defeat, she should be ready for it to strike.
Sheets crumpled in his between his fingers and the blankets rolled towards the Knight mashed into the mattress.
"You sly little!" Haley let her mental grip release flailing that pillow over and over on to the knights drawn back, dark locks, "Oof!"
Strong hands gripped thing wrists in between them, and a laugh erupted from both parties. "I believe this match to be mine, Lady Haley."
"Only because I let you!" She snapped back with a cheeky grin.
The Knight shook his head, the string of hair that refuses to be brushed back bobbing. "You jest."
"No, I.." The tip of her tongue damped the line of her lower lip. Her arms were bucked over her head, in a warrior's dual wielding hands. Haley felt no fear, though. This man was as gentle as he was kind. Alluring, and playful, but serious when need be. How could such a beautiful soul be destined for…
No, Diarmuid was diligently attempting to lift her spirits. She was done visiting those dark places.
"I am just having fun, thanks to you."
Diarmuid guided her dainty right hand to her chest and brought her left his lips, kissing the little red seal, "I am glad. A smiling face better suits your beauty."
Haley's eyelids fluttered. The raw affinity laced in his soft tone, joined with the compliment and sweet as honey kiss he bestowed on her. The way her heart threatened to burst like a tomato, left her dazzled.
"You.. think i'm beautiful?"
The smiling Knight returned her other hand and sat back onto his knees. He placed his own mitts on his thighs. "I do." He cast his eyes to the wrinkled, purple sheets, "I hope that it is not an issue."
"Nah.. I was just.. Surprised, that's all." Haley swallowed the burning sensation in her throat, and ignored the beats that kept skipping. Those heterochromia eyes needed resolution. They concealed his true beauty behind a mask of curses. Spells and evils that twisted his heart like a twizzler. "I.. I also think that you are very handsome." She said, a bit surprised by her own forwardness. "And I want to bring out the beauty in your heart more… so.." She pulled the clueless man down to lay next to her, shoulders touching. "So let's remove this damn curse."