Pst, hey, its me, y'know the guy whose extremely bad at schedules and promises? Yeah. On the bright side, it hasn't been a year. Look at us, we're making progress you and I, I'm glad we could work something out.

In all seriousness, school is starting to wind down and I have almost all my Eagle Scout stuff figured out for my Court of Honor. I've also got most of my college stuff figured out as well. On the negative side, Google Docs yeeted my outline for the first like 10 chapters of this story out of existence. Its not that big of a deal, I got the old Crescent's Deadly Touch as a baseline, but it's still a bit of a letdown.

Other news? Uh, I'm writing a book and I've gotten back into DnD. I've recently gotten into Dark Souls III and I like Elden Ring, but its not my favorite (doesn't capture me like Breath of the Wild or Dark Souls III). I'm making a video game with a friend starting this week as well, so that's another thing on my to do list (he's the programming guy, I'm the story and art/animation guy). If I figure out recording stuff I might post updates onto YouTube, I'll let y'all know if that ever hits off.

I've still got my part time job which occupies about 15 hours of my week as well, so no shortage of things on my to do list. I won't bother making any promises, I just ask for patience, something which you lot seem to have (I'm not too worried about you guys hounding me, I thank you guys for that). All I'll say is that it shouldn't take several months anymore for new uploads, but you guys know me by now.

Enjoy the chapter and I hope those reading this have a good week!

Chapter Two,

"Thorn,"

The boy is in the world of the dragons now. That Wendigo scared him into one of the link ponds. I shall follow him, watch over him. It seems I am connected to him in some way after all. I wonder what new opportunities this shall bring about? There's only one way to find out.

There were only blurred colors, Crescent could smell the grass and soil beneath him; the scent of flowers was strong. The wind carried Spring, not Fall. Something felt amiss, but not inherently wrong. Crescent brought his arms up to his chest and pushed himself off the ground. Crescent sat on his knees and brought his hands up to his eyes and rubbed them. Crescent blinked a couple of times and finally cleared his eyesight.

"The moon, it so…clear," Crescent mumbled to himself in awe, it was like there was no light pollution in the atmosphere. Crescent's awe had to be tripled however because the number of moons in the sky were tripled.

"What the…what the fuck is this?" Crescent wasn't much for swearing, but in times like these, he figured such words were appropriate. The college student felt as if he couldn't tear his eyes from the sky, such a sight was truly fantastical. Old books would describe Crescent in a state in which he was taken by fey creatures. Crescent felt like his mind and body were in one world, but his soul, his being, was in another. Crescent state was shaken however as smoke filled his nostrils and faint shouts filled the air. Crescent tore his gaze from the sky and started violently coughing, his eyes and lungs were burning. Crescent quickly stood and dove out of the smoke. Deep breaths of fresh air filled his lungs, and the salty tears refreshed his eyes. Shadows filled the clouds, but Crescent was more concerned with finding the origins of the voices in the distance.

The trees and plants blurred by as Crescent ran through the mountainside forest. The only thought running through Crescent's head was to find these people so that they may answer his questions. Crescent burst through some bushes to find a secluded town made from wooden houses, burning wooden houses. The people running around reminded the animation student of the Norse men and women of old. Brigand axes, swords, and shields were in almost every person's hands.

"Sky-Burners! Get down!" Crescent's thoughts were interrupted as he was roughly manhandled to the ground by an unknown figure. Crescent was forced out his daze as a smelly bearded man brought him to his feet and violently shook him.
"Take these and get to the battlements, boy!" The bearded man roughly forced a shield and a sword into his hands and took off screaming with a large sword in his hands.

"Great, great, that's…that's wonderful," Crescent sarcastically remarked before ducking behind a large runestone for cover.

"Wait, what are Sky-Burners?" Crescent pondered. His question was swiftly answered when a shadow burst forth from the clouds, smoke billowed from its maw and fire licked at its teeth as it crashed into the earth, landing on all four of its legs.

"Oh, dragons. He meant dragons," Crescent sighed and fell back onto the rock. Crescent couldn't overthink this, he had to act, and acting was hard. Crescent took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, steeled his soul, and leapt out from behind the rock as claws scraped the ground where he just stood. Crescent was by no means a swordsman but being a photographer and an animator gave him certain perspectives that a soldier might not. A soldier would see trees and rocks as perfect cover and that soldier wouldn't exactly be wrong. Crescent, however, had to remember images and sketches and be able to recall them upon will near perfectly. With the adrenaline in his veins and his eyes scanning everything in his vision, time seemed to slow down.

…

…

…

It is apparent that any given person will respond to any given disaster with any given response. To some, time seems to speed up; to others, time seems to slow down. But that's just it, isn't it? Time just seems to slow down or speed up. Our senses deceive us in times of need or disaster, for reasons cannot understand but must accept. What if we could understand it though? What if we could harness that sense of time distortion? Hell! We might be able to turn that sense into reality eventually!

The red dragon opened its maw to let loose a volley of flames, but Crescent threw his shield into the maw of the beast. Will often insisted on games of Ultimate Frisbee, it wasn't something Crescent was incredibly passionate about, but it was something fate had decreed necessary. The shield found its destiny, not by stopping the fire, rather, changing its direction. Scorch marks burnt the ground to the left of Crescent. Crescent's heart was pounding as he ran, he was sure he was pushing far past his own boundaries, but his body and mind knew he needed to find safety. Another "Sky-Burner" landed mere yards in front of Crescent. Steel (or perhaps Damascus was a more noble term for it) in hand, Crescent chucked the blade at the dragon, the dragon was either to startled or too curious to notice the human slip away and in between two cabins. Crescent attempted to calm down his breathing and focus, but his focus was too tight and his breaths far too erratic. Crescent's head was pounding, and his vision was blurry.
'I can't breathe!' Crescent thought to himself, the panic was starting to settle in. Crescent's vision went from blurry to dull and from dull to dark. Crescent lost feeling in his fingers and toes. In time, there was no feeling to speak of.

Crescent thought he was dead, but as it turned out, Crescent awoke to a cold floor made from stone. Crescent pushed himself off of the ground after a few minutes of being conscious, many questioned ran through his head, but only one remained a priority: "Where am I?".

Crescent stood up to his full height, surveying his surroundings. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of stone. The stone wasn't dissimilar to the kind Crescent would find on the mountain behind the college campus. Crescent took his gaze away from the floors and to the bars in front of him.
"A prison?" Crescent asked himself aloud, perhaps a little too loudly.

"Yeah, been waiting for you to wake up, could always use an extra sword for the arena," a female voice responded to Crescent's question. Crescent turned to face the voice behind him. Crescent's eyes had now adjusted to the dim light in the room, he could see many people further in the room, by the back wall. The voice that had made itself known was a woman, perhaps a little older than Crescent by a few years. Her hair was long, seemingly made from shining silver. Her skin was pale, presumably from having spent much time in this dungeon. Her eyes were red like rubies, something Crescent thought he would doubt had he not just seen dragons not too long ago (again, presumably). She wore furs and leather for clothing and a shield and axe on her back. Wooden bracers were attached to her arms and legs.

"Welcome to Hell, Greeny," the woman grinned, one hand on her hip and the other outstretched towards him. Crescent approached the woman but did yet take her hand.
"Crescent, actually," Crescent corrected. His eyes displayed apprehension towards the stranger and her unknown offer.

"Well? Are ye jus' goin' to stare? Take the damn hand!" the woman playfully mocked him. She was unusually chipper for a prisoner. Crescent frowned; this woman was almost unbelievable to him. First the eyes and then her attitude! What's wrong with this woman?!

"And what exactly is the hand offering, rather, what is the mind behind the hand scheming?" Crescent retorted. To blindly trust anyone is a bad idea and in his situation no less? Crescent figured he was justified in his apprehension.

"What're ye bloody on about!? Tis jus' a hand! It isn't goin' to grow a bloody sword!" The woman bellowed; her hand still extended. This woman was really getting on Crescent's nerves.

"Surely you can understand my caution, I'm a stranger in a new, strange environment surrounded by a bunch of prisoners! I have no idea how desperate or ethical any of you are!" Crescent shot back, a fire raged in his eyes and blades swung on his tongue. The woman recoiled for only a second before putting both hands on her hips and huffing with a loud exhale.

"Yer' quite annoying for a scrawny lad," the woman replied. Crescent's eyes went wide, and his mouth almost hung. The audacity to say that he was the annoying one?! Crescent closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath in. He would just have to "take the L".

"Look, I apologize, it's just been a stressful day is all," Crescent replied, exhaustion in his gaze and posture.

"I'm sure it was Greeny! But tis the time of the moon now! C'mon, let's meet the others!" Crescent's eye twitched and he clenched his fists. With forced steps, he followed the woman. It was going to be a long night.

"…and my name be Selise, pleased to introduce ye', Greeny!" the woman finally ended, after about an hour of introductions Crescent had been informed that roughly 30 of the humans were imprisoned here by the "Sky-Burners,". Most had been here for only a couple of weeks; some had been here for at most 5 days. Crescent looked amongst his fellow prisoners as they sat around a meek fire made from scraps around the cell, it was of little comfort. The whole situation reminded him of Dark Souls, sitting around a feeble bonfire, the only sense of hope in an otherwise desolate situation.

"Where do ye' come from, Greeny?" One of the more scarred up men asked, he had a chipped and well used greatsword across his lap, it almost looked too heavy to use, easily 10 pounds. Crescent frowned at the nickname, but figured he'd have to stick with it until a new prisoner arrived.

"Not from here," Crescent admitted, "a place where dragons are but myth. The most dangerous beings from my home are other humans."

"Sounds rough, not being able to trust your own people; explains yer earlier edge," another man chipped in. Crescent simply nodded. Crescent almost let the subject drop, but then he remembered what chased him through the forest, it gave him shivers.

"Actually…" Crescent started, unsure if he should mention what he saw, it was then he remembered he was in a world with dragons. The group of prisoners looked at the newcomer, he wasn't one for initiating a conversation as far as they were aware.

"There was something, now that I think about it," Crescent stated, about to continue when Selise cut him off.

"Well? What was it?" Selise asked, eagerly leaning forward, not aware that she had put her cleavage in his direct eyeline. Perhaps she was aware on the other hand and meant to embarrass him. Either possibility wouldn't have been surprising to Crescent. Crescent shot the woman a glare and cleared his throat.

"I'm getting to that, Zippy," Crescent retorted, a vein almost making itself visible on his forehead.

"Zippy?" the greatsword wielder inquired.

"Fast, impatient, all over the place; take your pick," Crescent replied with a much less irritated tone. A couple seconds passed before Crescent regained his composure.

"Regardless, I had been exploring the woods near my home for quite some time. I had stumbled across a gravestone when I decided to pay my respects and head back down the mountain. Well, something started chasing me; it was tall, lanky, unnaturally skinny for how well it kept up with me. It had long arms, sharp claws and teeth, hungry, crimson eyes, brownish, taught skin, and horns like a deer. It was only when I made it to a pond of water that it stopped upon the shore, waiting for me to exit. I dove down into the depths, blacked out, and woke up in a cavern. It was only after exploring this cavern I awoke here" Crescent explained to the prisoners. They were silent for a while before the greatsword wielder spoke up.

"Ey, twas a flesh pedestrian, one of em' monsters, likely the Wendigo," the man didn't look up, he simply continued to sharpen and take care of his worn blade.

"One of em' took away my brother and another my mother. It is the forearm of the one who took my best friend that acts as the hilt to my blade," the man continued, a solemn statement of factuality filled his voice.

"We have much to think about and much more to rest upon, I suggest we get some sleep. We're likely in the arena tomorrow. Greeny," the man paused and made direct contact with Crescent, "I apologize ye had to end up here. We'll get you a weapon tomorrow." The man walked off and most of the prisoners dispersed. Crescent remained by the dwindling flames for a few more minutes, ignoring whatever Selise had remarked to him before heading to bed herself. Soon, the fire turned to embers, and the embers slowly faded, leaving only ash behind.

Crescent awoke the next morning upon the hard stone, slightly warmed by the embers the night before. Crescent stretched his back and slowly approached the greatsword wielder.
"I don't think I caught your name yesterday," Crescent remarked, holding out his hand. The bulking human before him firmly grasped his hand and shook it three times.

"Ulfur of house Eldi, I was known as the 'Wolf of Flame' in my village, before most of the village was murdered by monsters, and later by sand dragons," Ulfur replied.
"What is your house name?" Ulfur asked as he led Crescent over to a dark corner of the cell.

'He must mean my last name,' Crescent mused to himself, quickly deciding how he would reply.

"Nyx, I have no title," Crescent replied.

"No title, hm? Well, I guess you'll just have to learn one here then," Ulfur had a small smirk on his face, it didn't last long. The duo reached their destination, a corner full of weapons. Crescent looked at Ulfur with questioning eyes.

"The weapons of those who have since passed, strong and noble wolves in their own rights," Ulfur remarked. Crescent nodded.

"A story for every blade then?" He rhetorically mumbled to himself, if Ulfur heard, he didn't make it known.

"You're not weak, Crescent, but you don't have the muscle for a shield in your off hand, you'll want to either use a two-handed weapon or a light weapon paired with a heavier weapon," Ulfur remarked. Crescent furrowed his brow.

"Isn't dual wielding impractical?" Crescent asked, he then hurriedly followed up by saying, "not to mean any offense!" His hands frantically waved in front of him. Ulfur rolled his eyes at the teen's antics.

"Anything is better in your offhand than nothing, so unless the weapon you want is meant to be two handed, always have a second," Ulfur replied. Crescent nodded; the logic seemed reasonable enough. Crescent looked at the weapons. His eyes gravitated towards a particular one and a half-handed long sword, not quite big enough to be a greatsword, not quite small enough to be a straight sword. It was surprisingly light for its size, with some more training, Crescent figured he could use it better in his right hand. The weapon was similar, but not the same, to an iconic weapon from Dark Souls I, the Wolf Knight Greatsword. It was a strange coincidence, considering what Crescent had been pondering the previous night. This sword wasn't as large and a thinner than the one from the game with which Crescent was familiar, however. Still though, the weapon couldn't have been made from iron or steel, it was still way to light for its size. Crescent figured it must be a metal unique to these lands.

"The sword of the last of my kin, the blade belonging Blodi of house Hundur; 'the Bloodhound' we called him," Ulfur remarked, "a fitting choice for a young wolf like you." Ulfur placed his hand upon Crescent's left shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

'That might leave a bruise later,' Crescent thought as he winced. Crescent strapped the sheathe to his back, unsheathing it alone would take some practice. Crescent's eyes also wondered to a dagger hidden in the back, it looked like a karambit knife (he had owned one himself before coming here) although more dagger sized than knife sized.

"That blade was here when I arrived, a blade belonging to some unknown knight of little renown. Its story shall be made new with you, young wolf," Ulfur informed Crescent before walking off towards where the bonfire had once been.

"Alright team, the scalies will be here in roughly two hours' time. We have a greeny to train. Groft, Selise, Engill, and Sver, make yourselves obvious, you four have arena duty today. I pray that none of you will let your guards down, we need as many of us as possible. I'll be training the young wolf. Everyone else make yourselves useful or otherwise productive," Ulfur barked out before turning back to Crescent.

"For many years I watched the Bloodhound fight, I shall teach you what I observed. I expect two hours of muscle training each morning, followed by two hours of weapons training each day," Ulfur firmly ordered Crescent, who simply nodded. It was doable, it wasn't fun, but it was necessary.

"Then let us begin," Ulfur grinned like a starved wolf.

The camp hadn't seen Ulfur so fired up in a long time, not since the Bloodhound died in the arena. It was when Ulfur started to train Greeny that he got fired up once more. For 3 months Ulfur pushed Crescent to his limits, Crescent was straining muscles he'd never used before, he was a hiker after all, not a swordsman. Crescent had been making decent progress, better than when he had started, but his sword skills were far outmatched by his outlandishness; different perspectives, memories, and ideas lent to Crescent's sword style.

"'Sweeping the leg' is not something in sword fighting," Ulfur had reprimanded Crescent moments before Crescent swept (the superior fighter) Selise from off her feet by catching her boot with his knife.

"The kid is flexible, I'll give em that," Ulfur had mumbled.

Not all was good, however, the prisoners had since gone from 30 humans to 23 in that time and a good handful had been injured. It just so happened that one day, Ulfur and Crescent had lost track of time sparring and ended up too close to the cell doors.

"Crap," Crescent mumbled as Ulfur glared defiantly up at the Sky-Burner before him. The brutish dragon swung the door open as three more guards appeared behind him, taking Crescent, Ulfur, Selise, and another one of the women out of the cell. The way in which they grabbed the prisoners prevented them from reaching their swords, although Crescent figured he could likely reach his dagger from this position, not that it would help much in this particular situation; freeing himself would mean leaving the others behind. The quartet of prisoners to the sandy arena. Already in the arena were a blue and black dragon. Crescent couldn't help but marvel, he had only seen the red and orange ones thus far. Looking at the pillars beyond the arena however revealed even more types of dragons, chained to their spots.

"They're as much prisoners here as us," Crescent mumbled to himself. Selise spared him a glance, but Crescent was unaware. The dragon up and behind the prisoners was roaring something as the humans were unceremoniously dropped to the sand below. Crescent grunted but kept his footing. The sand was already throwing him off balance.

"The sand is looser, use this to your advantage, young wolf," Ulfur swiftly remarked. Crescent nodded, his fighting style incorporated much spinning and weaving for Crescent was not easily dazed. The sand was looser than the stone floors back in the cell. The humans unsheathed their weapons.

"Selise, Groft, you head for the black one! Greeny and I will engage the blue one!" The three humans addressed nodded and rushed across the sands. Crescent was on edge, this was his first real fight, and he knew he'd likely have to end up killing this dragon to survive. He couldn't let himself get distracted, however. Ulfur hopped over the blue dragon's tail and Crescent lunged through a claw attack. Crescent lost his footing as he landed but dug his dagger into the sands and swung his sword, Sif (named after the Great Gray Wolf from Dar Souls I, in honor of his own homeland) catching the softer underbelly of the blue dragon while simultaneously rebalancing himself. This move was one Crescent used often, due to Ulfur's bear like strikes which broke his guard poise more often than not. The blue dragon roared out in what Crescent could only assume to be surprise.

Crescent plunged Sif into the sand to absorb most of the damage as the blue dragon swung her tail towards Crescent. He was still sent backwards but once again recovered with his dagger (Bonfire). This was going to be difficult.

To slightly make up for the wait, this chapter is about twice the length of last time. Let me know if you guys like the shorter or longer chapter. I myself enjoy reading chapters around 7-8 pages (around what this one is). I know there was a decent amount of Dark Souls references in this chapter, but I hope they didn't interfere. If they did, let me know and I'll either go back and reword and decrease or get rid of it all together (except the first one likely). Feel free to leave your thoughts as reviews and follow/favorite, if not you're free to do that as well!