author's note:Again, a huge thank you to all the readers and especially those who left comments, I am really happy to be sharing this with you! 3 As of now, by estimations, it will take me about 65 chapters to do everything I had planned to do, so, as you see... busy schedule. We are just getting started - BUT plenty of time to fix this mess I brought them in.

Maduke II - Werewolf Island, 25th October, 00:10

Muzaka was lying dead in the dust and the noble Lord knelt before him and Maduke felt nothing but the devastating realization that this was the best day of his life. From here on, no day could bear a greater, more fulfilling glory. He laughed. The Noble Lord really knelt before him.
"Warriors!" His voice cut through the night and the warriors retreated from their battles against the nobles. He wanted to rip her throat open and taste the blood of a Lord. Like a beast, he wanted to devour her, and then all others. Reining himself in, he forced his body back into a humanoid appearance, and the cold air bit at his flaming skin. Zaiga approached him from the side and offered his cloak. Maduke never had liked the colour white in particular, but to meet the beginning of his true reign bare as the Moonmother had made him was hardly appropriate.

He saw disbelief and terror in the faces of the nobles. It would take so little to finish them off and be done with them for good.
"Look at your Lord!", he proclaimed, turning towards the invaders who realized that they had lost their fight. The Noblesse, bruised and battered and splattered with the blood of enemies and friends alike, glared daggers at him. Would he dare? Maduke almost wanted to challenge him, too. He wanted more. More. More. More. More. Let him kill at least someone with his own hands tonight.
"Cadis Etrama di Raizel," Lord Raskreia started, forcing her voice to remain steady despite the emotions she must be feeling right now. "Do not be reckless for my sake, but be reasonable for the sake of our people. Lord Maduke, you won this duel: keep your end of the bargain and let my people retreat."

Maduke almost bared his teeth with a growl. How dare she, appeal to his honour as Lord? This cursed set of outdated ideals tied his hands more than he cared to admit. But a rule once broken... If he forfeit his word now, they would all know: the word of a Lord really meant nothing. He took a step back. It did not matter. The Noblesse was almost dying right in front of their eyes and the Lord knelt before him, defeated. If the two strongest nobles could not stop him, no one could.
"Ignes." This was a command. One that was not executed at once. He turned his head to cast a glance back. Gotaru, one of the younger warriors, helped the noble scientist back up on her feet. She pressed a red-stained hand against her abdomen where his claws had lacerated her skin and flesh. That's the least she deserved for getting between him and his opponent in a sloppily aimed attack at an enemy right in front of her face.
The warrior placed one hand against Ignes' back and held her by the arm as well to keep her stable as they approached him, Zaiga and the defeated noble Lord.

"Restrain our guest, will you?", he asked, trying to keep his voice steady despite his nervous excitement. Raskreia rose back to her feet and Maduke hated the way Ignes flinched away from the noble Lord's steely glare. A red ribbon snaked itself around Lord Raskreia's arms, tying them together from the elbows down to the wrists. She did not resist. Maybe it would not even have been necessary, he would not have been surprised if she had complied even without the Kravei weapon tying her down like that.
"Juraki." The blue-haired werewolf approached, gaze lowered respectfully. "You and the other warriors, escort the nobles away. After that, look for survivors and casualties, and then, gather at the throne." The warrior nodded. "As you command, Lord."

Everything was perfect. Everything was just so heartbreakingly perfect. Raskreia turned her eyes to her clan leaders with a sadness that made him rejoice.

"I apologize for not being strong enough."

Seira I – Unknown, 25th October, 00:48

This was not real. This was not real. This was absolutely real. Seira could barely comprehend how things had turned this grim this fast. They had meant to save M-21, but instead, they lost Frankenstein, Muzaka and the Lord. Even though Tao kept insisting that their modified friend was still alive, Seira knew that he was merely lying to himself because the more likely alternative frightened him too much. She was scared too.
What would happen now? Their Lord was in the hands of the enemy and at the current state of things, Seira could not see any way to turn this around. The werewolf warriors had let them leave spitting curses and taunts and they were right. They all have been too weak. They have been foolish to invade them in their own territory without the intention of facing the wrath of their entire people. Now, the Lord paid the price for their own lack of strength.

On a small island off the coast of the werewolf territory, they stopped. Seira helped Rael sit down against a boulder. His wounds were deep, but he would live. That was good. She was not sure whether she would bear even more loss tonight.
Ser Karias set down the unconscious werewolf woman he'd taken from the battlefield. Tao and Takeo were right next to Raizel who'd placed his hand against a tree to support himself. Rosaria was pacing nervously, tense, brushing off all of Kei's attempts at getting her to stop and calm down for a moment. Regis sat down next to Rael. Had their situation ever been more desperate?

"Ser Raizel... what do we do now?" Karias wrought his hands, clearly trying to resist the urge to pace like Rosaria.
"We must help the Lord!", the red-headed woman interjected. "We cannot just leave her there!"
"Going back is suicide, Rosaria!", Karias answered curtly. "And then there is no telling what will happen to the Lord!"
"So we just leave her in the hands of the werewolves?!", she asked, distraught beyond measure by the mere idea of abandoning their Lord to the mercy of another.
Rael pushed himself up along the boulder to get back up on his feet. "If we don't do anything, they will come for us too!"
"You and Kei are a mess!", Regis retorted. "We all are. And they outnumber us!"
"Then we must come back with the remaining Clan Leaders!", Karias insisted.
"And risk fully exposing Lukedonia if we fail?", Kei asked, finally getting involved in this discussion.
"It's better than going home and waiting for them to come to us!", Rosaria insisted.

Seira watched the Clan Leaders argue with heavy heart. She wanted to raise their voice and tell them to stop. She wanted someone to raise their voice and tell them to stop, this could only get worse. Finally, they turned on the Noblesse.
"What are we supposed to do?" - "Ser Raizel, can you defeat them?" - "Is Frankenstein really dead?" - "What do we do without our Lord?" - "Where do we go now?" - "Is it really hopeless?"
Several voices all at once. They were afraid. Seira realized that. They were afraid, just like her.

"I don't know!" Raizel suddenly raising his voice silenced the panicked clan leaders at once. The Noblesse's breath was heavy, laboured, and he shook his hand, running his hand over his face. "I don't know," he whispered. Was he... was he crying? Seira could not see from where she was stood, and she did not want to see.
The nobles recoiled, taken aback by the strong emotional response of the one who was usually so calm and composed. He lost his three closest friends tonight, and gladly would have given his life, had the Lord not stepped in to stop him. Seira knew him well enough by now. A cynical, dark part of her wondered whether it would have been better that way. Then... No. They could not afford to be divided. Not in a time like this. She should not allow herself to think like that even for a single moment.

Ser Raizel took a shaky breath. All eyes on him. He must feel uncomfortable. Seira did not envy him and the choices he faced. What did you choose when all choices were terrible? What was the lesser evil in this situation?

"... we retreat to Lukedonia and consult the other Clan Leaders first," he said after a few moments of thought. He was right. While they were still exhausted and shaken, they would be nothing but easy prey for the enemies they had failed to defeat today.

Seira did not know whether there was something like God, but if there was, she would pray that when they returned, they would find the Lord and M-21 alive and well.

Raskreia III - Werewolf Island, 25th October, 1:25

Raskreia's heart bled at the mere thought of having knelt before another Lord. Now, she could only hope that they would use their time wisely. There was no doubt that sooner or later, Maduke would retaliate. Several of his warriors have been killed today, there was no way he was just going to let it slide. For now, all she could do was retain composure and hope.

The Kravei weapon, summoned as red band, restrained her arms in an uncomfortable position, but she complied anyway, walking between the Lord and Ignes. The bearded warrior who had offered the Lord his cloak earlier walked behind them.
"Ignes... that modified human that almost defeated you, earlier... Who was that?", he inquired, casting a quick glance at the scientist, past Raskreia.
"... that was Frankenstein." Ignes swallowed. "Ser Raizel's... bonded."
"Ah. So that was him. I imagined he'd look different. And is he dead?"
"What... what kind of a question is that? Obviously."
"Is it really obvious, though? There was no body."
Raskreia felt as though her blood might freeze in her veins. No body? Might he... Could Frankenstein possibly be still alive? If yes... he might turn things around. Ignes bristled next to her.
"Nobles don't leave a body either. There is no way he survived that."
Ignes did not sound all that certain either. Maduke hummed, though Raskreia could not tell whether he was agreeing or merely finishing the conversation.

Silence settled between them. There was nothing left to say. The pale light of the full moon barely illuminated this ancient, deep part of the woods. After a while, they reached a building, secured by several sigils of aura. The Lord dissolved them so they could pass. A subterranean facility. While the upper levels seemed recent, the further they descended, the older the structures got. Raskreia used her psychic senses to gain an idea of this place. The walls were several meters thick, even a powerful warrior would probably have struggle getting past this place – especially if it all were to collapse. This was not a regular prison. It was a prison for powerful enemies. Why was she not surprised to see that Maduke had such a place?

"Is this where..." Ignes started, trailed off, and the Lord confirmed with a hum. The restraint on her arms dissolved as they stopped before one of the cells.
"Had I known that I would house such an important guest, I would have prepared more comfortable accommodations," Maduke noted with a chuckle. Not even dignifying him with as little as a glare, she entered the cell. She was still the Lord of Nobles and he would not have her pride. Raskreia sat on the wooden bench by the wall and the bearded werewolf entered the cell.
"Your Lordship," he said with a mocking smile and fastened one of her wrists with a handcuff of thick metal, attached to the wall by a long, heavy chain. Raskreia wondered what kind of alloy this must be made of.
"I am complying. There is no need for these measures," she stated dryly and the werewolf hesitated for a moment.
"Trust is good, control is better," Maduke noted. "Continue."
Raskreia's other wrist was cuffed as well. At least the chains were long enough to still fold her hands in her lap. The werewolf stepped back and conjured up his aura, darkness imbued with golden runes she identified as the ancient tongue – he was a user of magic. As he weaved his spell, he stepped out of her cell backwards. The golden runes sat down on the ground. A trap spell that would explode the moment someone stepped inside – or tried to leave it. Raskreia remembered Rosaria's mother, the previous leader of the Elenor Clan, teaching her about these most insidious incantations and spells. The cell door was closed and the warrior handed the key to his Lord.

Maduke turned around sharply to leave. Ignes and the warrior did the same – but he stopped. "Not you, Ignes. You stay here."
Ignes blinked in confusion. "Oh? You want me to guard the Lord? A-alright." She smiled widely.
"No. I want you to stay here and think about your behaviour and your position here," the Lord replied calmly.
"... pardon?" Ignes cocked her head to the side. Lightning-fast, Maduke turned around and seized her by the throat. Ignes wrapped her hands around his wrist in her vain struggle as he lifted her off the ground. She made a strangled noise of distress.
"Whose side are you on?", he growled.
"Yours, Lord!" Ignes' voice was a shrill, high-pitched squeak. Without further ado, he discarded her, through the door of the cell opposite Raskreia's. Ignes hit the wall, collapsing against the cold stone. Zaiga closed that door as well.
"I will be busy for the coming days," Maduke stated, regaining his composure. "Use that time to think of a good reason why I should not brand you a traitor for your mistakes today."
"You... you cannot do that! I am on your side, I swear!"
Ignes pushed up against the the door, hands wrapped around the metal bars.
"Are you? Don't test my patience. Pray I will feel merciful when I have time to decide what to do with you."

Ignoring any further of her pleas, the Lord and the warrior left, leaving Ignes pacing and cussing. "Shit! Shit! SHIT!" She punched the wall and Raskreia almost grimaced at the ugly sound of breaking bones. With tears in her eyes, Ignes continued cussing in high-pitched whispers as she steadied her broken hand with the other one.
Had someone told her just one day ago that she and Ignes would both end up in a prison on the werewolf island, she would have assumed they must have lost their mind. This was a turn of events she had not anticipated.
Raskreia almost laughed.