Don't own it, don't claim it, don't sue.
Chapter 11
The darkness slowly began to fade away as Damas slipped back to the conscious world. Taking deep breaths, his eyes fluttered slowly, fighting the cursed light as they readjusted themselves to better visibility.
As he tried to sit up, his body countered and screamed in dull ache. He drew in a deep breath through his teeth and decided to wait a minute before trying that again. He looked around to find himself back at the campsite. He was lying on the ground and the golden hues from the setting sun were peaking through the surrounding trees.
He laid his head back down and tried to gather the memories of what had transpired. The market. The palace. The plan.
Then there was the pain. He had no idea what had caused it and even less of an idea of why it was caused.
Then there were the emerald green eyes. The ones that looked at him with a mixture of fear and compassion. Not only had he never seen eyes like that before, he never saw any look at him with compassion before. He wasn't sure why, but his pulsed raced slightly at the memory of those eyes.
He closed his eyes and searched his memory for a clue to what had happened but fatigue and hunger pushed through as higher priorities.
He moved his feet as if trying to stand up and heard a loud yowl. Surprised, he looked down to find the cringer looking at him as if he had dared wake him from a dream of chasing birds.
"Sorry," he grumbled, half annoyed but half relieved with the animal's presence. He got to his knees, and then slowly pushed himself up.
The aches came back but for the most part but his body seemed grateful for the movement. He stood still for a moment with his eyes closed, as if in meditation, contemplating his next move.
"I expected more for you," came a sultry voice from behind him.
But before she could react, Evil-lyn was staring the tip end of Damas' sword.
Surprised for a millisecond, she grinned and ran her finger alongside the edge of the blade pushing it slowly down to her breast.
"I would tell you to be quick but I somehow think that you're a man who prefers to....savor...the moment," she said huskily.
Damas however, was unimpressed but lowered the sword. Huffing, he walked into his tent, emerging minutes later pulling a fresh shirt over his streamlined, tan chest. He patted the tiger on the head and it stood up and stretched.
"Why are you here witch?" he grunted. "I have work to do."
Evil-lyn snickered and perched herself on a nearby rock, leaning back just enough to allow Damas to appreciate the view.
"My dear General," she replied. "I think you would be a bit more grateful considering that I have rescued you from the hands of our enemies."
Damas frowned and his steely blue eyes narrowed.
"I could have HANDLED the situation," he retorted as he glared at her. "I needed no interference from that pathetic master of yours."
The smile on Evil-lyn's face faltered as she grit her teeth. Straightening up, she returned his icy glare.
"My master has nothing to do with this," she elaborated. "You were freed with my help. Otherwise, you would have been executed the minute you regained consciousness."
Damas didn't speak, he just stared at her angrily.
"You see, there are members of the Royal Guard, older members that remember what it meant to see a symbol of the Horde," she continued, very pleased with herself. "While many of the newer guardsmen have no idea, it was only a matter of time before you were discovered. And then you would be dead."
She stood up and sauntered over to him. His eyes followed her movement with suspicion, but Evil-lyn merely ran her hand over his chest and nestled behind him.
"So you see, you would have not only failed in your mission, but you would be dead," she whispered in his ear. "And you're really no good to Horde Prime...or me...if you're dead."
As she licked the back his ear, he reached up and pulled her arm away from his chest. Fighting off her advance, he turned and clutched her wrist tightly.
"Do not presume that I can be so easily distracted," he warned. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have much more IMPORTANT things to do."
Her eyes flashed for a moment but the sadistic smile never left her lips. Instead she jerked her wrist away from Damas and took a step back. Chuckling, she cradled her magic wand in his fingers.
"You gorgeous fool, do you honestly believe that you are going to just MARCH into Grayskull and take over?" she laughed haughtily. "Are you REALLY as great as those in Horde World proclaim? From what I've seen you're no more capable of taking Grayskull than a widget is. And to think, I was going to allow myself to be yours."
She continued to laugh as Damas clutched his fists. After a few more seconds of her cackling, he grabbed her by the neck and dug his fingers into her flesh. Her expression changed rapidly and for a second, she was afraid.
Damas wanted to crush her throat, but as he stood there, ready to tear her limb from limb, he faltered. Despite all of his anger, all of his disgust for this wretched wench, he could not bring himself to destroy her, even after she had made such remarks about him.
Instead, he pushed her out of his way. She fell to the ground and landed on her hands and knees in the dirt. She coughed hard as she tried to take deep breaths of air.
He stared at her for a moment and then turned to grab a bag from his tent. With fury, Evil-lyn pointed her wand at him and started to recite an incantation in her head.
"Nobody...EVER.....treats me this way," she hissed.
Damas faced her with determination in his eyes and as she fired a blast from her wand, he rolled quickly out of the way. His tent however, quickly went up in flames.
Suspecting another strike, Damas got up quickly to react but instead there was nothing.
Nothing but a low pitched sound. Just a few feet away, cringer was on all fours, his back arched and hair sticking up, growling at her. His face was only inches from the side of Evil-lyn's head. Saliva dripped from his bared teeth and a hissing sound coming from his nostrils seemed to say "Just try that again."
Seeing that her head was about to be mauled, Evil-lyn lowered her wand and inched slowly away from the cat.
"Grayskull will never be yours," she hissed. "I will make sure of it myself."
With that, she disappeared in a flash of dark smoke and lightening.
Damas took a deep breath and exhaled. Cringer walked over to him sat down at his feet. Amused by the cowardly cat's actions, he scratched the feline's ear.
"Not too bad," he chuckled. "There may be hope for you yet."
The he stopped. He had laughed. He NEVER laughed...at ANYTHING.
He rubbed his head.
"By the ancients what is happening to me?" he thought to himself.
He reflected on what had happened moments before as he held the harpy in a death grip, only to have reservations about killing her. He never had reservations before. He had seen many battles and taken many lives and nothing had ever made him waiver.
However, whenever he did take the life of his opponent, he always felt different. Not the rush of adrenaline that his father had always described to him, but more of a...dreamlike..state. As if he would leave his body and watch it from the outside.
As he felt the pulse of Evil-lyn quicken in her jugular, he waited for that sensation to come over him. When it didn't, it caught him quite off guard.
"Blast," he thought to himself after several minutes. "Hordak warned me about this place. I just need to focus."
With the dusk overtaking the land and the sun setting, Damas grabbed his bag and snapped his fingers at cringer before setting off to the Royal Palace of Eternia, to finish what he had started that morning.
**********
The darkness washed over her as images danced in front of her eyes. Images of blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and an amazing smile.
Her ears filled with his laughs and cries. She could feel his soft skin, the grip of his hand on hers, she could smell his sweet smell.
She could see herself holding him close to her, feeling his heart beat against her own.
But then the darkness shifted and he began to fade, pulled back into the very darkness that encompassed her.
And while she fought in the darkness to hold onto him, he slipped farther and farther away until he was gone.
Gripped with fear and panic, her heart lunging into her throat, she fought against the darkness and screamed for him.
"ADAM!"
The name reverberated through the walls of the castle. The next thing she new, the door to her room was flown open and strong arms were enveloping her.
She heard a voice try to comfort her but she cried loudly over the dream that had haunted her every night for years.
And as tears streamed down her face, Queen Marlena of Eternia wondered why, this time, the dream felt so much more real. How was it that this time, she could actually feel her long-lost son.
Chapter 11
The darkness slowly began to fade away as Damas slipped back to the conscious world. Taking deep breaths, his eyes fluttered slowly, fighting the cursed light as they readjusted themselves to better visibility.
As he tried to sit up, his body countered and screamed in dull ache. He drew in a deep breath through his teeth and decided to wait a minute before trying that again. He looked around to find himself back at the campsite. He was lying on the ground and the golden hues from the setting sun were peaking through the surrounding trees.
He laid his head back down and tried to gather the memories of what had transpired. The market. The palace. The plan.
Then there was the pain. He had no idea what had caused it and even less of an idea of why it was caused.
Then there were the emerald green eyes. The ones that looked at him with a mixture of fear and compassion. Not only had he never seen eyes like that before, he never saw any look at him with compassion before. He wasn't sure why, but his pulsed raced slightly at the memory of those eyes.
He closed his eyes and searched his memory for a clue to what had happened but fatigue and hunger pushed through as higher priorities.
He moved his feet as if trying to stand up and heard a loud yowl. Surprised, he looked down to find the cringer looking at him as if he had dared wake him from a dream of chasing birds.
"Sorry," he grumbled, half annoyed but half relieved with the animal's presence. He got to his knees, and then slowly pushed himself up.
The aches came back but for the most part but his body seemed grateful for the movement. He stood still for a moment with his eyes closed, as if in meditation, contemplating his next move.
"I expected more for you," came a sultry voice from behind him.
But before she could react, Evil-lyn was staring the tip end of Damas' sword.
Surprised for a millisecond, she grinned and ran her finger alongside the edge of the blade pushing it slowly down to her breast.
"I would tell you to be quick but I somehow think that you're a man who prefers to....savor...the moment," she said huskily.
Damas however, was unimpressed but lowered the sword. Huffing, he walked into his tent, emerging minutes later pulling a fresh shirt over his streamlined, tan chest. He patted the tiger on the head and it stood up and stretched.
"Why are you here witch?" he grunted. "I have work to do."
Evil-lyn snickered and perched herself on a nearby rock, leaning back just enough to allow Damas to appreciate the view.
"My dear General," she replied. "I think you would be a bit more grateful considering that I have rescued you from the hands of our enemies."
Damas frowned and his steely blue eyes narrowed.
"I could have HANDLED the situation," he retorted as he glared at her. "I needed no interference from that pathetic master of yours."
The smile on Evil-lyn's face faltered as she grit her teeth. Straightening up, she returned his icy glare.
"My master has nothing to do with this," she elaborated. "You were freed with my help. Otherwise, you would have been executed the minute you regained consciousness."
Damas didn't speak, he just stared at her angrily.
"You see, there are members of the Royal Guard, older members that remember what it meant to see a symbol of the Horde," she continued, very pleased with herself. "While many of the newer guardsmen have no idea, it was only a matter of time before you were discovered. And then you would be dead."
She stood up and sauntered over to him. His eyes followed her movement with suspicion, but Evil-lyn merely ran her hand over his chest and nestled behind him.
"So you see, you would have not only failed in your mission, but you would be dead," she whispered in his ear. "And you're really no good to Horde Prime...or me...if you're dead."
As she licked the back his ear, he reached up and pulled her arm away from his chest. Fighting off her advance, he turned and clutched her wrist tightly.
"Do not presume that I can be so easily distracted," he warned. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have much more IMPORTANT things to do."
Her eyes flashed for a moment but the sadistic smile never left her lips. Instead she jerked her wrist away from Damas and took a step back. Chuckling, she cradled her magic wand in his fingers.
"You gorgeous fool, do you honestly believe that you are going to just MARCH into Grayskull and take over?" she laughed haughtily. "Are you REALLY as great as those in Horde World proclaim? From what I've seen you're no more capable of taking Grayskull than a widget is. And to think, I was going to allow myself to be yours."
She continued to laugh as Damas clutched his fists. After a few more seconds of her cackling, he grabbed her by the neck and dug his fingers into her flesh. Her expression changed rapidly and for a second, she was afraid.
Damas wanted to crush her throat, but as he stood there, ready to tear her limb from limb, he faltered. Despite all of his anger, all of his disgust for this wretched wench, he could not bring himself to destroy her, even after she had made such remarks about him.
Instead, he pushed her out of his way. She fell to the ground and landed on her hands and knees in the dirt. She coughed hard as she tried to take deep breaths of air.
He stared at her for a moment and then turned to grab a bag from his tent. With fury, Evil-lyn pointed her wand at him and started to recite an incantation in her head.
"Nobody...EVER.....treats me this way," she hissed.
Damas faced her with determination in his eyes and as she fired a blast from her wand, he rolled quickly out of the way. His tent however, quickly went up in flames.
Suspecting another strike, Damas got up quickly to react but instead there was nothing.
Nothing but a low pitched sound. Just a few feet away, cringer was on all fours, his back arched and hair sticking up, growling at her. His face was only inches from the side of Evil-lyn's head. Saliva dripped from his bared teeth and a hissing sound coming from his nostrils seemed to say "Just try that again."
Seeing that her head was about to be mauled, Evil-lyn lowered her wand and inched slowly away from the cat.
"Grayskull will never be yours," she hissed. "I will make sure of it myself."
With that, she disappeared in a flash of dark smoke and lightening.
Damas took a deep breath and exhaled. Cringer walked over to him sat down at his feet. Amused by the cowardly cat's actions, he scratched the feline's ear.
"Not too bad," he chuckled. "There may be hope for you yet."
The he stopped. He had laughed. He NEVER laughed...at ANYTHING.
He rubbed his head.
"By the ancients what is happening to me?" he thought to himself.
He reflected on what had happened moments before as he held the harpy in a death grip, only to have reservations about killing her. He never had reservations before. He had seen many battles and taken many lives and nothing had ever made him waiver.
However, whenever he did take the life of his opponent, he always felt different. Not the rush of adrenaline that his father had always described to him, but more of a...dreamlike..state. As if he would leave his body and watch it from the outside.
As he felt the pulse of Evil-lyn quicken in her jugular, he waited for that sensation to come over him. When it didn't, it caught him quite off guard.
"Blast," he thought to himself after several minutes. "Hordak warned me about this place. I just need to focus."
With the dusk overtaking the land and the sun setting, Damas grabbed his bag and snapped his fingers at cringer before setting off to the Royal Palace of Eternia, to finish what he had started that morning.
**********
The darkness washed over her as images danced in front of her eyes. Images of blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and an amazing smile.
Her ears filled with his laughs and cries. She could feel his soft skin, the grip of his hand on hers, she could smell his sweet smell.
She could see herself holding him close to her, feeling his heart beat against her own.
But then the darkness shifted and he began to fade, pulled back into the very darkness that encompassed her.
And while she fought in the darkness to hold onto him, he slipped farther and farther away until he was gone.
Gripped with fear and panic, her heart lunging into her throat, she fought against the darkness and screamed for him.
"ADAM!"
The name reverberated through the walls of the castle. The next thing she new, the door to her room was flown open and strong arms were enveloping her.
She heard a voice try to comfort her but she cried loudly over the dream that had haunted her every night for years.
And as tears streamed down her face, Queen Marlena of Eternia wondered why, this time, the dream felt so much more real. How was it that this time, she could actually feel her long-lost son.