A Bit of Background: This is an Arthurian tale that I wrote for an English project this year. The goal was to create something creative and relevant to the Arthurian tales that we have been studying for a few weeks. I chose to write my own tale. While it is not in the style of the tales, nor do the people speak in such a way, it does hold many of the conventions and themes often seen in the tales. I currently do not know my grade, but I do not think it will be very high since there is not a lot of relevance besides the conventions, and King Arthur being mentioned in one paragraph. Still, it is a pretty funny tale, with purposely stupid parts and a cool monster, so I hope you enjoy it!
If this is considered original fiction, or is in the wrong category, many apologies. I was unsure on where to put this. Obviously, if it is in the incorrect place, I will move it the second I find out.
Silence
and the One-Eared Horse
A
Tale of Epic Strangeness
It was just one strange thing after another the day the silent knight and his obnoxious squire showed up. First a white hart ran amok in the streets, scaring the peasants out of their slumber, then causing them to chase it, with hounds yapping at their heels. Finally the nobles got more than a little sick of it, and sent knights to break it up. In the end, the hart leapt off into the woods, and the grumbling peasants went off to work. A few knights immediately headed back home, with a sense of foreboding, but a few stuck around to make sure all went smoothly. Unfortunately for them, it didn't, for only an hour later a ghostly-white peasant from a farm outside the town walls came dashing in, wailing something about a demon horse. The two knights tried to calm him and get a more sensible story out of him, but it was in vain, and the peasant kept on screaming. A few of the other workers began to look at the man nervously, obviously believing his tale, and one of the knights immediately hustled him away, allowing him to go screech in some other area. Then, finally, the oddest thing of the day came their way: a ecstatic noblewoman, tripping over her own robe as she ran, screaming about how a silent knight upon a demon horse kissed her and promised to be her paramour. She soon began to rally up the other women and tell her stories, exciting the others. It was staring to look like the women were going to go on their own crusade when a knight finally found it to be enough. He had his horse walk in-between the chattering noblewoman and the excited women. He peered down at the noblewoman, his brown eyes squinted as he tried to see if perhaps she was sick. Behind him, the peasant woman grumbled something about "lost fun".
"Is everything quite all right, my lady? You seem quite delirious," the knight said carefully, as if talking could cause the lady's insanity to eat him up.
"Oh, I am wonderful, good knight, just wonderful! A handsome knight has promised me only the greatest of all the world, and he shall protect me for all his life with powerful demonic horse and his silent power!" the noblewoman declared, though in a much longer speech that left the knight concerned, and even a little scared. First a hart, then a crazy peasant, and now an even crazier noblewoman were making him wonder if his choice to keep guard for any more oddities was a smart idea. He was beginning to wonder if this knight with the demon horse was going to show up. It would simply be perfect, considering what had happened through out the morning.
"Well, my lady, you must be tired after all of this. Why don't you go to Lord Abel's house, right near the river... I'm sure he would be delighted to let you rest and wait for your knight," the knight replied, hoping desperately that she would go. Thankfully, the noblewoman found that to be a wonderful idea; unfortunately, she wanted the knight to take her to Abel. Reluctantly the knight agreed, reminding himself that at least he wouldn't have to see the demon horse, and thus off the two of them went, leaving only one knight "guarding" the area. This knight was still the only one present when the knight and his squire showed up.
They seemed to appear in town far too quickly for a normal set of beings, but then again, the knight had been nodding off through their coming, so he could've been dreaming. Still, they did arrive quickly. There were four of them in all, one monstrous horse, a much smaller donkey, and two beings. The one riding the horse looked to be as big as the beast itself, while the fellow riding the donkey looked to be as small as the donkey. The horse had a sleek black coat marred only by brutal scars on its flank, its leg, its ear and over its left eye. Its left ear ended in a stub halfway up, while its right ear was marred by scars that left it practically hairless. Its eyes were dark and wicked, with a stare that could give it its own empire had it the intelligence to create one. All in all, it was an evil beast, deserving of the name "demon horse". Its rider didn't look much nicer. He was a positively huge man, at least six feet tall and 200 pounds, with blonde hair that had a tinge of red and eyes nearly as dark as his horse's. His armor was full-plate, metal armor, covering him from his shoulders to his toes; he had no helmet with him and a very low scarf around his neck. One could easily see the long, gruesome scar running down his neck, and the one running over his lips. A massive sword rested in a black scabbard, and he had a long, powerful lance with him as well. Finally, he held a large shield in his hand, but it had no decorations or arms upon it; it was simply a plain shield.
In striking contrast to the battled-scarred, fierce knight and horse, the donkey and its rider were puny, weak, and gorgeous. The donkey had a purely white coat with black eyes, and she was free of scars of any kind. She was a placid beast, moving fast enough to keep up with the monstrosity of a horse, but with a cheerful gait as if she wasn't walking beside something that could count as a demon. Her rider didn't look quite as cheerful, and he didn't hold quite the lovely looks, but he certainly wasn't as bad as the rider near him. He didn't look like he quite reached five feet, and he had curly red hair that was tied in a loose, sloppy ponytail that reached his shoulders, while stubs of red hair covered his chin. His eyes were sky blue and sparkling with wit and confidence. Unlike his companion, he wore a leather breastplate and pants rather than plate mail, and instead of a sword and lance, he had a single long dagger in an old, leather scabbard hanging from his thigh.
The knight at the town couldn't believe his eyes, as he stared from the horse and knight, to the donkey and warrior. They were completely out-of-place. A great knight should be traveling with a thousand squires to help him, not some donkey-riding peasant with a dagger. The red-haired man should be back at his farm, not traveling alongside a great horse. The horse looked like it belonged in Hell itself, and having a cute, almost heavenly donkey trotting beside it only made the situation even stranger. The group was weird, and it only fit all the odd tidings that had come their way all day. The town knight desperately hoped that he could quickly send the two men on their way.
"Hello, good men! What brings you to our town?" the knight shouted, as the riders were in earshot, and still coming in at an uncomfortably quick speed.
Neither man responded, making the knight concerned and suspicious. He fumbled for his lance, only to have the red-haired man let out a deep bellow that seemed far too loud for his tiny body.
"Oh, relax, you skittish knight! It's rather aggravating to have to shout across a field to speak. It would be far more convenient to walk up to you, aye?"
Immediately the knight's eyes narrowed as he gained a firm grip on his lance. "I ask you to show a little respect!"
"Relax, good knight; you'll get your ever-wanted respect soon enough!" the red-haired man replied, either completely oblivious to the knight's annoyance, not afraid, or just stupid. Within moments he and his companion were at a distance where shouting was not necessary. The man had his donkey waltz forward, and he held out a leather-gloved hand. "Cheyenne at your service, sir. I speak for Sir Tacitus the Silent with his loyal steed Teivel." Cheyenne cheerfully ignored the knight's obvious distaste at the Jewish name. If he knew the horse, he'd understand. "Tell me, good knight, what town do we find ourselves in?"
"The town of Dayton, my good lords," the knight replied hesitantly, staring warily at Teivel, who just returned the stare with an evil glare.
Tacitus' eyes flickered toward Cheyenne, and the knight then made a strange sound in his throat, as if he were choking. Cheyenne looked toward him, then watched as Tacitus' lips moved, but not a sound came out. The Dayton knight watched with deep confusion, not knowing what could be happening, but sensing that some conversation was going on. Still, it was odd that the two didn't say a word while they talked; it made him fear that they may be prophets. Cheyenne shortly turned back to the knight.
"Very well, then, my lord. Will you tell us your name?" Cheyenne asked.
"Sir Crofton," the Dayton knight replied. He then turned to Tacitus. "Good knight, will you not speak? You have been quiet the entire time."
"Ah, well, Tacitus does not speak much... Or at all," Cheyenne said smoothly.
"A knight who does not speak?" Crofton apparently found such a thing preposterous. "What kind of knight does not use his voice? Are you really a knight?"
Tacitus just stared. Cheyenne opened his mouth to speak, but Crofton held up his hand for him to be silent. Cheyenne's face turned nearly as red as his hair, but before he could explode with anger, Crofton was speaking, while Tacitus just continued to stare.
"Well, Sir Tacitus, I doubt your lineage and your prowess. Do you accept a challenge to see if you are really what this loud-mouth claims you to be?"
Cheyenne again tried to chatter, but this time it was Tacitus who held up his hand. Immediately Cheyenne gave up, and he looked toward Tacitus with indignation, obviously unable to believe that the other would not let him defend him. Tacitus merely nodded, both at Cheyenne and at Crofton, before turning around and beginning to trot away. Teivel let out a distinct snort, his ears flattening, and he picked up his gait; either the horse hated Crofton and was glad to be rid of him, or he just liked to walk around. Either way, the horse's sudden energy caused Crofton's horse to nicker nervously and trot a bit away. Crofton led him on, couching his lance as he did so, before turning around. He was stunned to see that Tacitus had already gotten quite a good distance away, and Teivel was quickly leading him farther. Within a few seconds, however, the monstrous horse whirled around, and even from a distance its wicked eyes seemed to make Crofton's horse shy away further. Grumbling, Crofton pulled the horse's reins roughly, making it reluctantly stop moving. He then watched as the other knight couched his lance.
Then, suddenly, Teivel surged forward at a frightening speed, and as the sun glinted against his sleek black coat and lit up his dark eyes, Crofton understood why he was called a demon horse. He also considered running away, but remembered that that would be dishonorable and cowardly. Thus, despite the fact that his horse was stiff with fear, he spurred his horse, and forced it forward in a rush toward the other, larger, much scarier beast. Cheyenne looked upon the entire scene with humor. Teivel was practically twice the size of Crofton's horse, while Tacitus was definitely larger than Crofton. The Dayton knight stood no chance. If he wasn't completely killed, he would certainly be sent flying off his horse and be sore for a very long time.
The distinct crack of word and clashing of metal announced the colliding of the two knights. Their lances shattered, splinters of wood scattering all around the area, causing Cheyenne to duck and lead his donkey away from the two knights. Crofton's horse strained from the sheer amount of force and weight that had collided with him, and his back hooves slipped on the dirt. Crofton went soaring straight off his horse, tumbling backward and rolling straight off his horse's rump to fall painfully back-first into the ground, where he rolled heavily onto his side. His horse nearly stepped on him as it stumbled backward from the force of the blow, its ears flat and eyes white with fear. Soon, however, it gained its footing, and stepped away from its former rider, snorting. Gritting his teeth, Crofton dared to peek at his shield, and found a clean dent in it. He then looked up to find Teivel prancing around, tossing his head proudly, while Tacitus just looked down at Crofton with a gaze that clearly said "Dare you question me now?"
"My Lord..." Crofton whispered. He sounded as if he wasn't quite sure if he could still talk. He twitched strangely, apparently testing his muscles, then began to slowly move into a sitting position, wincing very slightly. "Sir Tacitus, I apologize deeply for questioning your prowess. I ask, what brings you to such a place, where certainly your skills are of no use? I also ask you, where did you learn such skill?"
"Ah, that is one of the first questions you have asked that is worthwhile, good Crofton. Tacitus has come to purse a vile beast, a wyrm known as Deimos. It has killed Tacitus' family and taken away his voice, and Tacitus plans to kill it for vengeance. He will not rest until this beast lays rotting in the soil. As for his skills... He is the son of King Alaric and Queen Gizem of Arthur's realm, and was a knight under his father for many years until he fought the foul wyrm," Cheyenne explained, ignoring Crofton's obvious aggravation at Cheyenne's lack of manners. "Do you know of where this beast could lay?"
Crofton's brow furrowed in concentration, but in the end he shook his head helplessly. He had heard of Deimos, certainly; the wicked wyrm had been terrorizing the surrounding area for quite some time, but their Lord had yet to send anyone to help them. Furthermore, King Arthur had yet to receive a message about their problem, and thus no good knights from the realm were helping them be rid of the beast. Though, judging by Cheyenne's words, perhaps Tacitus was the knight that was going to be sent, though Crofton had never heard of him. Still, it was a relief to know of such a strong knight who was searching for it, but Crofton didn't know where it was, and had no direct way to help. Still, though, there could be someone that knew, and he knew exactly whom the knight and squire should be directed to.
"I know not of the location of this terrible creature, but I do know of a man who may be able to find its location," Crofton said, and even while he spoke, Tacitus dismounted, walked over, and helped Crofton to his feet. "Along the road you'll see a rather small hut with a thatched roof. In there lives a prophet. We know not why he decided to stay at this village... Perhaps he knew of your coming. You should see him immediately."
Tacitus slowly mouthed out "Thank you", then walked back to Teivel and mounted the horse. Then, with verbal gratitude from Cheyenne, the two headed off, walking along the dirt road. Crofton quietly watched them go, wondering where such odd-looking people could've come from. He knew that Tacitus was of noble blood, but he did wonder about Cheyenne and his peasant tongue. It seemed like such odd company to keep, but he figured it was none of his concern. Just relieved that the two had passed with relative peace, Crofton mounted his horse, then turned around and began a steady trot home. Hopefully he wouldn't have to come out again all day.
Meanwhile, Tacitus and Cheyenne had arrived upon the small thatched hut, and, after tying off horse and donkey, they quietly entered. Quickly an old yet strong voice called out, "I knew you would come, Knight of Silence and Squire of Words. You come in search of the powerful Deimos, a fowl creature that terrorizes our county. I know of its location, but warn you: only a fool would expect only the best to happen in the future. Remember your family and use your strength, and fare thee well on the journey to defeat Deimos. You can find it in the deepest part of the western forest."
Cheyenne managed to squeak out a "thank you" before being nearly dragged out of the hut by Tacitus. He didn't say a thing as they remounted their steeds and headed toward the forest. The town was very quiet as they passed through, as the citizens watched them with awe, but did not seem to know what to say to them. They also did not want to come too close to the massive black stallion that the knight rode upon, nor did they want to make a move that would cause it to go into a rage. The best thing to them seemed to be to just sit back and watch in awe, and thus that was what Tacitus and Cheyenne left behind: awed villagers.
They were a few miles into the forest when it happened. A distinct shriek filled the air, causing Teivel's ears to flat, and Tacitus to stop the horse in his tracks. Cheyenne stopped beside the two, and looked around, trying to find what had caused such a terrified sound. They were soon rewarded with such knowledge, for a young woman came dashing into the area. She wore nothing more than a white dress that was green and brown from the forest floor, and her long brown hair trailed behind her as she ran. The minute she saw Tacitus and Cheyenne, her brown eyes lit up with hope, though a little fear was present as she looked at Teivel. Apparently deciding that getting killed by a demonic horse was worth the risk, the woman dashed over to Tacitus.
"Good knight, protect me!" she cried out in fear, then hid behind Teivel, who eyed her warily and lifted a hind foot in warning.
The horse had no time to kick anyone, however, as another of its kind galloped into the area, a knight atop its back. This knight wore pure white armor with red decorations upon it; his shield held similar looks. His horse had a bay-colored coat speckled delicately with white spots, and while it was much smaller than Teivel, the mare still obviously held great strength. Still, despite her strength, the mare did shy away from Teivel the very second she saw him. The knight looked over at Tacitus with curiosity and perhaps a little malice, while Tacitus returned the gaze with suspicion. Behind him, however, the woman let out a gasp of relief, and raced straight over to the knight.
"Sir Angra Mainyu! I'm so glad you are safe! Has Sir Bertram gone?" the woman asked as Tacitus had Teivel step forward, watching the two people before him. At the man's name, Cheyenne's eyebrows lifted; that was certainly a very strange name to give someone.
"Yes, milady. I chased him off. I doubt he will come by and try to harm you again," Sir Angra Mainyu replied, smiling. The smile was strained, as if he would rather grimace at the lady, but she didn't seem to notice. Cheyenne did, however, and he glanced at Tacitus warily. Tacitus did not look directly at him, but he did nod softly, showing that he understood perfectly. Angra Mainyu wasn't to be trusted. The said man looked up and saw Tacitus. He observed Teivel for a moment, and, apparently deciding that staring at a horse that looked positively evil was stupid, he smiled unkindly at Tacitus. "Who are you, my good men?"
"Cheyenne. He's Tacitus." Cheyenne jerked his head toward Tacitus, who did not seem fazed by Cheyenne's blunt rudeness. When Cheyenne didn't trust someone, he become blunt and mean. Tacitus was long used to it, though most of the world was not.
Angra's eyes narrowed slightly at Cheyenne's tone of voice and words, but he quickly recovered his quite-obviously false, sweet attitude. "Ah, very well. A pleasure to meet you, men; I am Sir Angra Mainyu, and this is Ophelia."
"I just met him recently. I was being harassed by Sir Bertram, and he saved me," Ophelia said gratefully. "Such a wonderful knight!"
"Yes, wonderful," Cheyenne murmured sarcastically, but immediately smiled meekly at Tacitus' cold glare. It wouldn't be a smart idea to get another knight annoyed, especially if he couldn't be trusted. "Well, good knight, perhaps you can help us. We are looking for a wyrm that is said to be in this forest. Have you seen any signs of one?"
Sir Angra Mainyu, completely ignoring Cheyenne's previously bitter attitude, frowned lightly and shook his head. "I'm afraid I have not. Shall we look for it together? Surely this wyrm can be faced far better with two knights, not one?"
Cheyenne and Tacitus very quickly exchanged glances of concern. Inviting Angra on their adventure was the least liked of any idea they may come upon, but at the same time Ophelia's safety was in their minds. Surely Angra couldn't mean anything pleasant by saving Ophelia from Sir Bertram, whoever he was. Acquiescing with Angra's request seemed best for Ophelia's sake, if no one else's. Perhaps if they were lucky, Deimos would eat Angra for them as well (such a thought was only Cheyenne's). Therefore, having wasted only seconds thinking, Tacitus looked at Angra and nodded calmly, as if he was completely happy with such a thing. Angra smiled sweetly, staring at Tacitus curiously, and everyone knew exactly what he was going to ask.
"Where do you come from, knight?" Angra asked.
Everyone thought they knew what he would ask, anyway. Such a bizarre question threatened to send Tacitus and Cheyenne into another confounding thinking session. While Cheyenne did fall into such a thing, though, Tacitus immediately tossed the question aside. Surely he was being asked such a thing to put him on a disadvantage. What disadvantage it could be, he had no idea, but it wouldn't be a smart idea to try and think about it. Indeed, Tacitus was right. While Cheyenne lowered his head ever slightly to think over such a question, Angra quietly drew his sword. Ophelia's eyes widened at such a sight, and she moved to intercept. At the same time, Tacitus drew his own blade and had Teivel rush forward. The horse gladly did such a thing; apparently standing around had the horse extremely bored.
The clashing of swords brought Cheyenne from his foolish musings, and he looked up to see Tacitus intercepting Angra's sword with his own. Ophelia was on the ground, staring up with awe and horror. Angra's sword had been going straight for Ophelia's neck, and she had obviously never expected such a thing to happen. Judging by Tacitus' gaze, he had anticipated that something bad would come from Angra, if not exactly what had happened. Cheyenne muttered a curse over his stupidity, then was about to say something when Tacitus wheezed, then slowly mouthed, "Why did you try to kill her?"
Angra Mainyu looked down at Tacitus for a few seconds, then let out a loud bark of laughter. Tacitus' eyes narrowed as he was obviously insulted, then he pushed forward. Angra's laughter soon was cut short when he found that he was sliding off his horse. He grabbed for his reins in a panic, allowing his sword to flop rather uselessly. Immediately Tacitus shifted his sword, then sent the flat edge hard against Angra's hand. The knight yelped with surprise, only losing his balance further, and let go of his sword in the process. The sword plummeted harmlessly to the ground, inches away from Ophelia's feet. The woman stared at Tacitus with shock, while Cheyenne also seemed a little too stunned to speak. Angra, having a good grip on the horse's reins, looked over at Tacitus with surprise.
"Don't you speak?" Angra asked stupidly, only to have Tacitus raise his sword warningly, mouthing his earlier question. Angra realized he would have to comply. "Sir Bertram is my enemy; he killed my father, and I plan to kill him to avenge my poor father's demise. I found him courting Ophelia, and tried to kill him, but he got away. If I kill Ophelia, he'll surely come to me, and I can kill him then."
Tacitus just stared, quite clearly believing that to be a most absurd reason to kill a person. He didn't see why the man couldn't just chase after Bertram; perhaps Angra was a coward. Cheyenne blinked for a few seconds, then suddenly barked out a laugh, grinning. Ophelia looked horrified, but no one seemed to notice her, as they were too busy processing what Angra Mainyu had told them. All of them were soon brought back to the present, however, when a terrifying, high-pitched screech sounded through the forest. Birds frantically flew away from the forest, while small animals that could not fly skittered away in terror. The galloping of hooves became apparently, and suddenly a horse rider burst into the area. His horse was pure white, thin, and nimble. Its eyes were white with terror, and it almost didn't stop when its lanky, tall rider pulled roughly on the reins. The one-eyed rider swept his gaze across the area, before staring coldly at Angra. His eyes softened for a moment as he looked at Ophelia, then he turned back at Angra, obviously forgetting about what he had been running from.
"You! Foul beast, what are you doing with my lady?" the man asked.
"Your lady? Pig, I would never be your lady!" Ophelia cried.
"You are the foul beast, Bertram, for you killed my father! Did you think I would forget?" Angra shouted angrily. At this point, Cheyenne and Tacitus exchanged baffled glances. Suddenly, the situation had gotten rather bizarre.
"Your father attacked me first! I had no choice! Now, get away before I cut you down!" Bertram cried, then rushed forward, and in a single movement, scooped a screaming Ophelia onto his horse. He then dashed away, while Angra fumbled to get his sword. Tacitus backed away, his eyes plagued with confusion, then watched as Angra successfully got his sword and charged away after Bertram and Ophelia. Just as he raced away, a much louder screech came through the area. Tacitus and Cheyenne exchanged glances, then shrugged and gave chase after the three.
"That had to be the strangest thing I have ever seen," Cheyenne mumbled, shaking his head. Tacitus glanced toward him, then looked back ahead of him.
It didn't take long for Teivel to catch up to the two equines ahead of him, though he left Cheyenne far behind in the process. Ophelia was screaming as if someone were trying to kill her, while Bertram and Angra both had swords out. Tacitus shook his head with disbelief at the behavior of the three, then had Teivel speed right past them. He then moved in the path of the two horses, and the three beings had no choice but to stop their mounts. Tacitus swept a confused glance at the three, who stared back at him in return. Bertram cleared his throat weakly.
"Hello, good knight. May I ask why you have stopped us? Surely I have not troubled you," Bertram croaked out weakly.
Tacitus slowly mouthed, "What is the problem you three have?"
Bertram was silent for a few moments, before realizing that Tacitus had just "spoken". He then took a deep breath, and replied, "Ophelia is my good lady--"
"No, I am not! I would never be caught with such a pig! Sir Angra is my lord, not--!" Ophelia began.
"Silence! You are my lady, not the lady of this awful beast!" Bertram shouted back, causing Angra to grit his teeth angrily. At this point, Cheyenne had caught up to the group, and he looked just as confused as he had before. "This man's father attacked me a fortnight ago because he did not want me to become a knight and threaten to outrank this monster. I had no choice but to injure him enough so he could not kill me, but I accidentally killed him instead!"
"Liar! You meant to kill him!" Angra bellowed.
Bertram did not seem to notice Angra's shout. He was starting to choke up, and didn't seem to notice anything around him. Tacitus looked at him softly, seeming to get a little concerned, while Cheyenne still looked generally confused.
"No one would believe that his father would attack me without cause, and I was banished from my county. I came here hoping to start a new life and become a knight here, yet this beast followed me insisting that I must die for killing his father! I managed to escape him, and found Ophelia. She is so beautiful and pure; I love her with all my heart! Yet Angra keeps preventing me from getting to Ophelia's heart, and now certainly she shall never love me!"
By then, Bertram was completely distraught, and didn't seem to notice that Ophelia had leapt off his horse and gotten onto Angra's. Tacitus, his eyes now plagued with concern, had Teivel move toward Bertram, but the man didn't seem to notice. He simply had his horse turn around. Cheyenne let out a shout of panic, but it was drowned out by a sharp screech, and the distinct sound of something sliding against the earth. Completely oblivious, Bertram spurred his horse and, full of grief, galloped straight toward the screeching. Angra and Ophelia watched coldly, before Angra spurred his horse and galloped away while Tacitus was distracted. A few moments later, he was pulled from his distraction by the distinct sound of bones cracking, and a terrified horse neigh. Bertram's horse, now without a rider, galloped by in a panic, then was gone.
"That was just awful," Cheyenne murmured.
Tacitus merely shook his head, then had Teivel step backward as a heavy sound, like something huge was sliding against the earth, became apparent in the earth. Cheyenne also backed away while Tacitus gripped his sword tightly. Within seconds, the creature that had been screeching slid into the area, trampling plants and easily pushing trees aside as it came through. It was at least forty-feet-long and as thick as five great, old trees, with beady yellow cat-like eyes. Its scales were blue and green in color, with a black streak down its back. Two sharp horns sprouted from right about its eyes, and its face was greatly decorated with frills and small horns. Its tail ended in a fan-like shape with blue feathers, while down its black back were sharp black spines. It had a thin yet long jaw with two large fangs sticking out from under its upper lip. Ultimately, it looked like a malicious creature, and the blood on its fangs and lips didn't help it look any better.
"Ah, Tacitus, what a pleasure to see you. I thought you may come along this way; I never was a quiet eater, and you never did approve of my diet. Really, though, we didn't need such a wailing creature in this world. Now, would you do me the favor to tell me why you're here?" the beast hissed, staring down at Tacitus with near curiosity.
"You know exactly why he's here, Deimos!" Cheyenne bellowed.
Deimos the wyrm looked thoughtful for a few moments. "Oh... Yes, I do, don't I? So silly of me. He's here to get himself killed. Fair enough." Suddenly the wyrm surged forward, and his jaws clipped shut where Tacitus and Teivel had been a moment before. Teivel had anticipated the dragon's coming and danced away at the last minute. "Have at it, knight."
Cheyenne immediately drew his dagger and had his donkey dash forward. Hissing, Deimos' tail suddenly whipped around, causing Cheyenne to be forced to retreat from the creature. At the same time Deimos snapped at Teivel, only to have the horse expertly back up, while Tacitus took his sword in hand and swept the blade across Deimos' lip; it was as high as he could reach. Red blood trickled from the wound while Deimos snarled and slid forward, opening his mouth wide. Tacitus, apparently understanding exactly what he was trying to trick him into doing, did not throw his sword into the creature's mouth, but rather had Teivel rear upward and kick at one of the serpent's teeth. The horse bashed at one of Teivel's smaller teeth, causing the wyrm to grunt, back up, and give his head a shake.
Seconds later Deimos was screeching and sending his tail, with a fresh gash in it, sweeping into Cheyenne and his donkey, causing them to be hurtled into a tree. Tacitus immediately took the opportunity, and shoved his sword to the right, slipping it expertly in-between two scales and deep into the wyrm's cheek. The monster growled and suddenly sent his tail forward and straight for Teivel. The horse neighed angrily and moved to gallop away. Tacitus kept a tight grip on his sword, and the sword ripped painfully from Deimos' cheek. The moment it did, Tacitus turned around, sword at ready, only to be stunned to see Deimos had reared upward and was now trying to attack him from above, his mouth open and ready to close on Tacitus and Teivel like a cage. They couldn't back up without Deimos simply following, and thus it was certain that they would be enclosed. Tacitus looked down at Teivel, then back up at the wyrm.
He then suddenly put away his sword and rolled off Teivel, keeping himself rolling away from the horse even as he moved to unlatch his armor. Teivel neighed with obvious disgust at this bit of abandonment, then shortly disappeared under the wyrm's jaws. Meanwhile, while Deimos began to carefully close his jaws, Cheyenne, who had managed to recover his footing, began to help Tacitus tear off his useless armor; it was proving to be no good against the wyrm, just like the last time that they had fought. Deimos was very quick, and Tacitus would need to be nimble as well to be able to dodge and attack the beast. As Cheyenne and Tacitus pulled off Tacitus' breastplate, Deimos suddenly let out a screech of pain, his eyes widening. His jaws were not quite closed, and Teivel had yet to show any signs of being crushed to death, but obviously something had happened to the wyrm. While tearing off Tacitus' armor as quickly as he could without harming the knight, Cheyenne tried to see what was wrong, but he couldn't see a thing. Soon, however, he did, as Deimos lifted his mouth painfully.
The wyrm was bleeding from the tongue, while Teivel was standing proudly, a bit of the dragon's tongue in his mouth. Cheyenne's nose wrinkled with horror, but Tacitus, while tearing off the armor on his legs, just smiled knowingly. He could always count on the horse to do something completely bizarre; after all, the horse had been through a lot, and wasn't going to be the average, terrified horse. Indeed, even though his legs were bleeding slightly, the horse still dropped the meat on the ground, then galloped over to Tacitus, who had thrown off enough armor so that he could move around more nimbly. He rushed to his feet, grabbed his scabbard, then rushed forward and leapt onto Teivel's back. Deimos hacked up a bit of blood, then screamed with obvious rage. Still, he did not rush forward, but rather watched Tacitus closely. It was becoming a battle of wits.
For a few moments, nothing happened except for Cheyenne mounting his bruised but conscious and ready-for-anything donkey. Deimos stared down at Tacitus coldly, blood seeping from his cheek, lip, and mouth. Tacitus sat atop a horse that was looking up at the wyrm with a look that said that he wanted the wyrm dead. Tacitus was the only creature unharmed, and it obviously had Deimos thinking carefully. Finally, the wyrm couldn't stand the lack of activity and suddenly surged forwardly. Teivel immediately moved to gallop out of the way, only to have Deimos suddenly lift his entire body upward and move to crush Teivel. Tacitus drew his sword quickly and moved to stick it in the wyrm's body, only to have the creature change tactics yet again. He moved his body away, and suddenly Tacitus and Teivel found themselves on the ground, bruised and dazed. Neither had noticed the wyrm's tail sliding dangerously toward them; they had been too preoccupied with the creature's front. A hiss from the creature sounded triumphant as the wyrm suddenly slithered toward Tacitus, who was trying to bring himself into a sitting position.
A dagger being inserted into his side stopped Deimos cold. Hissing bitterly, the wyrm turned his tail onto its side so its spines were exposed, then hurled it toward Cheyenne. Cheyenne, seeing how quickly the tail would hit him, chose to abandon his blade in the creature's side and had his donkey gallop out of way of the creature before they were skewered. Hissing, Deimos began to focus on removing the knife, giving Tacitus time to rise to his feet and look dizzily around for Teivel. He found the horse lying on the ground, his right front leg in an awkward position. When the two made eye contact, the horse seemed to have a gaze that said "you complete idiot!" It made Tacitus smile sadly before he turned about to face Deimos on foot. He was surprised to find the creature about to spit a knife out of his mouth, while he bled profusely from a wound in his side. Immediately Tacitus dashed forward to take advantage of the opportunity.
Seconds later he ran away from Deimos as the wyrm whirled its head around and tried to decapitate him with a knife. It was a foolish move, as Deimos whipped his head back, then forward, releasing the knife in the process. The knife whizzed toward Tacitus and let a deep gash in the upper leg while becoming deeply imbedded in it, causing him to collapse to the ground. It made him wish he had kept his armor on; surely it would've saved his leg, even if the armor was destroyed in the process. Perhaps sacrificing defense for mobility had not been a good idea in the fight after all. There was no time for regrets, however, as Tacitus could hear Deimos advancing, hissing in triumph. Quickly Tacitus yanked the knife from his own leg, ignoring the extreme pain, then whipped the knife straight for Deimos' left eye.
The knife hit home. Soon Deimos was screaming in absolute pain and surprise as the knife cut straight into his left eye, causing it to rupture. Blood and eye fluid flowed from the wound, causing Deimos to thrash in pain. Tacitus, gritting his teeth, struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his right leg. He was soon surprised by a nudge at his right hand, and looked over to see Cheyenne's donkey, without a rider, staring up at him with obedient eyes. Tacitus looked around, only to see Cheyenne at Teivel's side, trying to see if the horse would make it through. Eyes sparkling with appreciation, Tacitus carefully mounted the donkey, which grunted from the severe change in weight, but seemed to quickly adjust. Tacitus could tell that the donkey wouldn't be able to handle it for very long though, and quickly he tried to think of something he could do. Soon, he thought of something, and directed the donkey forward.
Deimos had lowered his head was thrashing about, perhaps to make it easier to remove the knife from his eye. Tacitus now used it to his advantage. Advancing on the creature's left side, Tacitus gripped his sword as tightly as he could, then slowly inched himself higher and higher upon the donkey's back. When he could not longer move any higher without risking making either the donkey or himself collapse, he stayed in the odd position, then suddenly threw his massive sword upward in a powerful cut when he was right near Deimos' nostril. The donkey knew to stop moving, and didn't seem fazed when Tacitus' sword ripped through Deimos' nostril and began to tear up through his face. Ignoring Deimos' scream of surprise and great annoyance, Tacitus lowered his heavy sword, then repeated the movement from a slightly different angle. He continued to cut and slash at the beast even while it shook its head, making the damage worse. He ignored when the dagger in Deimos' eye dislodged and flew off to the side, slamming against a tree nearby, and continued to cut, completely absorbed with his word.
Suddenly Deimos rammed his head into Tacitus, causing the unsteady man to be completely thrown off the donkey, which snorted and trotted away, apparently for its own safety. Tacitus slammed into the ground, but did look up in time to see something that horrified him and awed him all the same. Deimos had his fangs gritted and his good eye closed. He lifted the first ten feet of his body upward, then let out a powerful screech. Just as he did, the scales on the wyrm's outstretched body began to shimmer and deform. Then, when the scales had meshed together into a colorful mess, the scales, skin, and muscle of that part of the beast began to twist outward and take on a completely different shape. Tacitus realized that he should take advantage of the opportunity, but was so shocked that he could only watch as what once had been many feet of flesh on the serpent thinned, stretched, and morphed together to become leathery, bat-like wings. While the scales and skin around the new wings fused together, Tacitus found he could only stare with horror as he realized that Deimos was a different kind of wyrm. Actually, he wasn't a wyrm at all.
He was an amphiptere, a creature often called a "winged wyrm", and at that moment, it was using its wings to take to the skies. Growling, Tacitus painfully got to his feet, then looked around weakly for his sword. He soon found it on the ground, near where Cheyenne's donkey had once stood. The white equine had walked obediently over to Tacitus once more, calmed down after Deimos had flown away, and Tacitus weakly mounted the beast. He then had it walk over to his sword, seconds before Deimos rammed his body into the earth to try and crush the distracted knight. Ignoring the beast, Tacitus had the donkey speed up, and soon he reached his sword. He just managed to lift it, and the knight realized that he would probably only have one more strike with the sword. His arms were tired from fighting, his mind weak from being rattled around, and his body weak from bloodloss. He couldn't hold on much longer; the battle had to end soon.
Deimos, screaming, soared forward, jaw open. He apparently knew that the donkey couldn't run very quickly with such a heavy rider. Tacitus, knowing that the donkey probably hadn't been trained on how to back up, simply had it dance as quickly as it could to the side. The amphiptere simply followed, snapping his jaws fiercely. Still Tacitus danced to the side, his donkey managing to keep up the pace easily. Looking to his left, Tacitus soon realized that they were dancing straight toward Teivel, who looked quite defensive. Smiling knowingly, Tacitus had the donkey run full-force toward Teivel, and the creature obediently obeyed. Deimos apparently did not see that he was being led to an angry horse with three working hooves, and thus he rushed forward obliviously. Soon, however, he found that his prey took a sharp turn, and suddenly his wounded face was being pounded by three hooves and bitten with a horse's fierce teeth. As it happened, Teivel was biting right at his exposed, bleeding flesh. Screaming, Deimos instinctively opened his mouth to swallow the horse whole, only to have the beast kick at Deimos' tooth. It happened to be a tooth that Teivel had hit earlier, and, unable to take the abuse, the tooth popped out and straight down, point first, onto Deimos' already-injured tongue.
Teivel let out a fierce scream while Deimos backed away, hacking on his own tooth. Tacitus leaned against Cheyenne, watching as the demon horse won the fight. Hacking up blood, Deimos thrashed bitterly, until finally the tooth, red with blood, landed on the grass. Cheyenne watched quietly as the amphiptere took to the skies, as expected. He also observed as it did not flee, but rather whirled around and, circling the area, tried to look for the best way to strike and kill. It then noticed that Tacitus had limped away from Cheyenne and was lying "collapsed" on the ground, looking too exhausted to go on. Screeching, Deimos immediately soared forward, not thinking about how Tacitus had just been with Cheyenne seconds before, and certainly hadn't seen doomed. All he was thinking about was victory. The dragon opened his mouth to strike.
He never got the chance as Tacitus lifted Cheyenne's retrieved dagger -- Cheyenne had found it on the ground, a place it seemed to end up often -- and threw it expertly toward Deimos' open mouth. The creature had its mouth open so wide that it didn't even see the blade going straight for its throat; it was pretty obvious, however, when the knife got lodged deep in his throat. Deimos let out a terrifying scream as he suddenly crashed to the ground, cracking and falling trees as he fell. He laid on the ground, hacking up blood, but unlike with the tooth, he could not cough up the blade causing him to bleed to death.
Tacitus looked over at the amphiptere. His vision was blurry from blood loss and weakness, but he could still see the creature slowly dying, obviously unable to believe what had happened. The knight couldn't help but smile.
"Stupid dragon," he croaked out weakly, in a strange voice as if someone was strangling him. Then he collapsed in a faint.