Chapter 15: Chameleon
"Damn it!" Cristo swore, taking his frustration out on a sapling as he swatted the tiny tree.
"Take it easy," Brey said, putting a restraining hand on the bodyguard's shoulder. "We expected this, remember?"
"I know," Cristo muttered, regaining his composure. "I was just hoping..."
"Well, don't," the old tutor harshly said. "We can't go on hope regarding every little thing in life, and strategic plans are no exception. We were fortunate enough the rabidhounds didn't pick up our scents." He looked back at the altar, frowning. "How long does that spell last?" he asked.
"I don't really know," Cristo replied, "but, from what I've read, 'Upper' can last for as long as a half hour."
"Then it's best we get a move on," the old tutor muttered. He and Cristo stood up from their hiding spot and hastily gave chase after the rabidhounds.
Alena tried to remain as motionless as possible but, in the constant jostling the bounding rabidhounds created, she found it a futile effort and eventually gave up, allowing herself to take the rough ride resolutely. She tried to peek through the interwoven straw to see where she was going but all she could make out was the faint blur of the forest and the dark silhouette of the beasts carrying the litter. If she got out of this alive, it would be quite the effort to find her way back to the village.
The princess stopped her thoughts, realizing doubt was creeping into her mind. Before they had parted, Brey told her to keep her faith up, to have belief the plan will work. Just in the same way Cristo "knew" Zenithia existed, so should she "know" she would succeed. She started to repeat it in her mind, getting it fixed so her actions would become automatic, so every possible doubt was erased.
As she did this, Alena noticed her breathing was becoming more rapid and she began to feel as though butterflies were fluttering throughout her gut. Above all though, she noticed her skin was much thicker than before, almost leathery. How this was being caused still remained a mystery to the princess. Her thoughts strayed to the battle the day before, when her skin did the same thing when she was in close contact with a rabidhound. She was now close to two of the large beasts but Brey had told her it had nothing to do with them, that her thickening skin was caused by her adrenaline-filled imagination. Yet, she had felt adrenaline coursing through her veins many times in the past and her skin had remained the same. Only in the rabidhounds' presence did it occur.
It's not a major concern, I guess, she absently thought as she rubbed her arm. It is handy.
So absorbed in her thoughts was Alena, she did not even notice the rabidhounds had slowed their pace to an easy trot instead of a full out run. Probably getting close, she thought grimly, fingering the hilt of a dagger concealed within the simple dress the villagers had provided her with. She would have felt more secure carrying her whip but she had to look like a villager for the creature to not suspect she knew how to fight.
Although her short hair could be a dead giveaway, the dress she wore would probably take the creature's attention from her head anyway. It was designed to be more revealing than most, displaying more of her bosom than modesty dictated. A slit run up the lower hem of the dress to expose the length of her thigh; that is, if she knew how to reveal it in such a manner. Whether this was something the creature demanded, or something the villagers thought suitable for a sacrifice, Alena did not know. However, it was probably distracting enough for her to get close to the creature for the dagger to be effective. The draft it created, though, was not pleasing and she hoped this would be over and done with quickly so she could get back into her travelling clothes.
The rabidhounds continued to slow down and, eventually, Alena noticed her surroundings becoming slightly darker. She struggled to look through the casket and saw rocky lining instead of trees and bushes all around her. She quickly realized they had entered the creature's lair.
The large beasts continued to carry the casket through the cave, never seeming to tire. It progressively grew darker and soon Alena found that she could hardly see the hands in front of her. Would it remain this dark? The princess did not know if she could fight in the dark but if it did come to that, she would have to do her best.
However, Alena noticed the cave begin to lighten by the dim glow of torches. As soon as the torchlight came into focus, the litter roughly dropped on the ground, sending a jarring sensation through the princess' body.
After rubbing her rump to soothe the pain, Alena tried to get a good look around through the casket. All she could make out were the brown walls of a large chamber with a few torches plunged into the surface to provide the light.
Alena turned her attention to the rabidhounds and saw their silhouettes move ahead. She then heard a sort of clicking sound mixed with a seemingly human voice, though it sounded like gibberish. The rabidhounds sat down on their hunches, apparently waiting for something.
Within moments, Alena saw another silhouette enter the chamber. The princess could not make out a definite shape but it seemed taller. The strange clicking sound mixed with gibberish continued, as if talking with the rabidhounds.
Eventually it stopped and the large beasts made their way behind the casket, taking up flanking positions at the chamber's entrance. Alena waited long moments, wondering what was going to happen next.
"Don't be shy," a human male's voice said. His words sounded soothing and relaxing. "It is safe for you to come out. They will not harm you."
Alena was startled. The last thing she expected to hear anything like that.
She looked through the litter, wondering who had spoken. However, all she could see was the tall silhouette at the opposite end of the chamber. Was this the monster that had terrorized Tempe? Patro said it was somewhat humanoid but this thing sounded completely human. Whatever the case, she had a job to do and everyone in the village was counting on her to accomplish it. Straightening the revealing dress she wore, Alena took a deep breath and stood up, easily pushing the lid of the casket.
In front of her was not some sort of demon a few villagers had claimed terrorized them, acidic saliva dripping from glistening fangs in a head that sported devilish horns. Nor was it some sort of humanoid creature, only retaining a few, basic features that all men and women held.
Rather, a young, handsome man stood in front of the princess. His long, sandy hair was neatly parted down the middle, a longer curl on the left side falling over his brow. His almond, blue eyes and sharp chin gave him the resemblance of a bird of prey. He wore a simple shirt, parted mid-way to reveal a broad, tanned chest.
"Greetings, my dear," he said soothingly, giving her a charming smile. "I'd really appreciate it if you would join me." He then stepped to the side, revealing another chamber luxuriously filled with satin curtains and large, soft pillows.
Cristo slashed at a low branch but his copper sword had a difficult time cleaving through the tough wood in one stroke. Grumbling, the bodyguard merely pushed it out of his way, forgetting it would whip back and probably hit Brey. However, the old tutor was now accustomed to his companion doing this and easily avoided the snapping branch.
Still, Brey was growing tired of dodging low branches and irritably said, "Why don't you watch it time to time?" Cristo ignored him, concentrating solely on pushing through the forest.
"Cristo!" Brey forcibly said. "Did you hear me?"
"Look, old man," the bodyguard said without looking at him. "We have to hurry if we want to make it to the Princess in time, so I don't want to waste time." With that, he started to push forward even harder.
Brey frowned, becoming irritated with Cristo's behavior. It was not because he was rushing forward without any regard for his lagging companion but because of his motivation for his rushing. He did not have any faith in Alena's capabilities and was trying to "come to her rescue" before she even had a chance to do anything. Even after their talk in the temple yesterday, the bodyguard still had doubts. Brey decided he was going to have to vanquish those doubts immediately or else they would impede the Princess later.
"Cristo!" Brey said again, his voice incisive, "why do you have no faith?"
The bodyguard stopped, startled. Without turning around, he muttered, "What did you say?"
"No faith," the old tutor repeated, stopping as well. "I asked why you have no faith."
Cristo turned around, his eyes narrow. "I have plenty of faith, old man," he said acidly. "My faith in Zenithism has secured my place among the Zenithians."
"Yet, you still lack faith," Brey said. "Your head's so high in the clouds you never see what's going on here on the ground."
"What are you talking about?" Cristo snapped. "We're wasting time here with you talking nonsense!"
"What?" Brey asked, his voice raising. "What's so important right now that we can't have a little discussion on-"
"Saving the Princess, damn it!" he nearly screamed. "She's in terrible danger and you want-"
"That's where you have no faith!" interrupted the old tutor, his voice louder than normal in order to get the bodyguard's attention. "Why is it you have no faith in her abilities as a fighter?"
"Of course I do," Cristo retorted immediately. "It's just that... just that..." His voice began to falter, suddenly losing his ability to argue.
"Just what...?" Brey asked, raising a bushy eyebrow in curiosity.
The bodyguard sighed, gently placing his sword back in its scabbard as he was finding it suddenly heavy in his hand. "Brey," he said, his voice more calm, "for five years I trained to be Alena's personal bodyguard. You know the lessons were tough. I saw you overseeing them as well. Somehow, I prevailed over the rest of the applicants. And, as a result, I've been a part of her life for the last eight years, making sure nothing ever happens to her that would put her in danger. For almost half my life, that is all I've ever known how to do, to protect her."
He paused, thinking carefully about what he was going to say next. Should I let him know? he wondered. Can I really admit something to him that I can't even admit to myself?
"Brey," Cristo said after a heavy sigh. "I... care very deeply about the Princess and it would devastate me if I lost her."
The old tutor slightly nodded, as if expecting the answer. "I understand how you feel," he said, causing the bodyguard to look at him slightly startled. "Just as the Princess is the granddaughter I never had, she must be the sister you never had."
Cristo nodded, his eyes wide with relief. Brey had misinterpreted his proclamation and his forbidden feelings would thankfully remain hidden.
"But, Cristo," he continued, taking a seat on a moss-covered stump. "There is so much spirit in that young woman, it's unbelievable. You weren't there when she let that spirit go wild. In fact you haven't really seen much of what she's capable of, merely the after effects."
He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "You merely saw the wall after she'd destroyed it," he said, "so I guess it would more difficult for you to comprehend this. But, Cristo, I saw her demolish it. A stone wall turned to rubble by her strength.
"And if I still had doubts after that, they were immediately vanquished when I saw what she had done in Weser. I watched her mercilessly attack Flail, something hardly anyone in their right mind would do. Now, I realize she wasn't in her right mind at that time but imagine, just imagine, the potential she has if she is able to do these things. There's potential in her, Cristo, and, for that, I have faith in her. Do you understand?"
The bodyguard was silent but slowly nodded.
Brey sighed, then said, "I know it is hard for you to understand this since you haven't seen much of her potential firsthand. Sure, she's killed kaskos hoppers but anyone can do that." He paused again, giving an almost pleading look at Cristo. "All I ask is that you have a little faith in her, that's all," the old tutor continued. "She doesn't need you to always protect her. She's demonstrated that on numerous occasions."
Again, the bodyguard remained silent. What Brey was asking of him really was a simple thing, yet he consistently had doubts attacking his mind. This would inevitably lead to Alena no longer requiring his protection.
Still, he should have enough faith in her she would never do such thing, that their friendship would always remain strong even if he was not needed to accompany her on diplomatic journeys to other countries. In the end, it all came down to faith, the same kind of trusting faith he placed on his religion.
"I... have faith in her," Cristo finally said.
Brey smiled. "I'm glad," he said, standing up. "We'd better get moving, then."
Cristo nodded and the two men began to make their way through the forest again, allowing several shadows slither behind them unnoticed.
"Care for some wine?" the handsome man asked, holding up a wineskin in front of a tray of jeweled goblets. Alena shook her head. The man shrugged but still poured the wine, obviously saving it for later in case she changed her mind.
Alena shifted uncomfortably on the soft pillows covering the floor of the tiny chamber. She had heard of such places as this in Keeleon; the locals called them harems. Although she had never actually seen one, she heard enough about them to know what atmosphere the soft, satin pillows, exotic perfumes, and romantic wines were meant to provide. However, she was wise enough not to be caught up in it all.
Keeping her eyes off her handsome host was another matter, however. Never before had she seen someone so attractive and she had to catch herself from staring at his broad, exposed chest on several occasions.
And his eyes! They were like magnets to her own delicate orbs, drawing her into his seemingly benign soul.
The handsome man grabbed one of the wine-filled goblets and sniffed it admiringly before taking a lengthy sip of its contents. Strolling over to Alena, he joined her on the pillows and lazily sprawled uncomfortably close. The princess wanted to move away but decided against it, guessing it would be better to stay close so, when she attacked, there would be complete surprise with no time for the man to react.
Alena wondered why she had not yet drawn her dagger to quickly finish her task. After all, she had little doubt this was the man responsible for the tyranny over Tempe.
She found herself fascinated by the man, though, and not just by his features. There was something else, something mysterious about him, and Alena felt compelled to discover those secrets before she had to kill him.
Her host took another sip from his goblet, then asked, "So, what is your name?" He flashed her that charming smile at the end of the sentence.
"Alena," she replied mechanically. She looked at him and asked, "And you?"
"Durron," he replied, still smiling. He brought a hand up and gently caressed the back of her head, causing Alena to involuntarily flinch. "How interesting," he said admiringly. "Very few women wear their hair so short."
"It... helps me think when I work," Alena responded, feeling goose-bumps crawl along her skin at his touch.
"Yes," he muttered, "I see that you do work a fair amount. Your skin is quite muscled and tough. They must work you like a dog down in that village."
He noticed the princess was sitting rigidly and said, "Relax. You're my guest here."
Alena felt a strange wave of nausea attack her but figured it was nothing more than nervousness. "You mean victim, don't you," she stated acidly.
At that, Durron let out a horrendous laughter, echoing eerily off the chamber's walls. "Is that what they think down there?" he laughed.
"Well..." Alena started but she lost her words. Why did the villagers think that? This was obviously no monster but a normal man; albeit a normal man with perverted ideas but then a lot of them had perverted ideas. The innkeeper in Weser was all the proof she needed.
As if to prove her thoughts, Durron said, "All I ask is for a little entertainment and they automatically think I am some sort of demon."
"I still think that it's awful what you've done to the village," Alena muttered, looking away.
"My dear," he said, again caressing her short hair, "what I've done is nothing compared to the level of tyranny many kingdoms in the past have subjected their civilians to. Even this country, this noble Santeem, is famous for its inquisitions of the past."
The princess looked at him, startled. "How... how can you make such a claim?" she gasped.
Durron smiled but it was a shrewd smile instead of his characteristic charming smile. "Because it's the truth," he replied evenly.
Alena opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself, stunned to find she actually agreed with her host. Brey had taught her about such inquisitions, where her predecessors ruled Santeem with fear and tyranny. She was not proud of her heritage in that front but their outrageous actions would forever stain the Santeem line, including her.
Another wave of nausea hit, this time more intense and causing her to reel forward.
"What's the matter, my dear," Durron said, concern somehow finding a way into his otherwise audacious tone.
"Nothing," she muttered, holding a hand up to stop his obvious advance. "Just... tired, I guess." She paused and looked back at him. He seemed to be very concerned for her well-being. Yet, this was the same man that supposedly held Tempe in a state of fear, who demanded a young woman every month, who sent the rabidhounds after anyone who defied him.
Why did none if it make sense?
"Well," she finally said, "what are you waiting for?" The princess pulled a portion of her dress up, revealing her leg. It was a distasteful job but she had to make sure she seemed completely helpless and feminine, showing no hint of her goal. However, Alena did not have much experience in such matters and her movements were jerky and mechanical, causing Durron's eyes to widen with surprise.
He suddenly laughed again, this time deeper. Alena looked at him, confused. "You certainly are amusing," he eventually managed to say, regaining his composure. He took another swing from the wine goblet, apparently finally emptying the contents.
He gently placed his hand on Alena's and raised it, giving it a gentlemanly kiss. The princess looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "There is no need for that," he said gently, flashing his charming smile. "As I said, I am not a monster. All I wish is for a romantic evening with one of my lovely subjects."
A dizzying sensation attacked Alena, her mind reeling in indecisiveness. Durron was sincere about his proposal; she could feel it in her heart. He must be very lonely man, living all the way out here in the woods. All he wants is someone to be with, someone to share his soul with.
However, thoughts of the village, thoughts of mutilated sheep, thoughts of vicious rabidhounds terrorizing the peasants, the same peasants that claimed this indulgent man was some sort of monster, caused her to reel in confusion, not knowing what she should do.
Durron, sensing her indecisiveness, leaned forward, tenderly placing his lips on hers.
Alena's eyes widened in shock but she did not back away.
Never before had anyone kissed her in such a manner. Her father had kissed her lovingly, Prince Reed of Bonmalmo had kissed her cheek in friendship as was his country's custom, and many, many nobles had kissed her hand in devotion and admiration. However, no one had ever kissed her with heartfelt passion.
A strange feeling crept throughout her body, an elation that washed over like thick liquid. What more, Alena found that she enjoyed it! It could be so easy to be taken by this remarkable man, to let the ecstasy lovers experienced be hers for the taking. After all, he was not threatening her, merely giving to her something missing from her life, something she may have taken greedily if she had never left the castle.
Yet, that was exactly the type of person she no longer wished to be, the reason she had ventured out into the real world in the first place. She wanted to gain things on her own and not have them handed to her, to prove to herself she had the strength and will to resist such temptations.
A surge of adrenaline washed away her euphoria and Alena knew what she had to do.
Still receiving Durron's tender kiss, the princess slowly reached behind her dress and pulled out the dagger that had remained concealed thus far. Without warning, she plunged it forth, aiming for the man's heart. Had she known how to properly wield such a weapon, she may have found the mark.
Durron yelped in shock, springing back. His hand unconsciously went to the side of his ribcage where a thin line of blood stained his parted shirt. His skin seemed to waver, turning almost scaly. It quickly passed, though, and Alena figured it was just her imagination, something brought on by her surge of adrenaline.
"Damn it!" cursed Durron, looking down at the minor injury to make sure it was not anything too severe. "Why did you do that?"
"I'm sorry to lead you on," Alena said through clenched teeth, silently cursing herself for missing. She stood up, wiped her mouth to erase all traces of his kiss, and pointed the dagger at him. "I've come to kill you instead."
The princess expected a look of surprise, of horror that one of the villagers actually was going to take his life. However, Durron merely smiled. It was not his charming smile, though, but a wry, confident bending of his lips.
"Idiot," he said, his voice no longer doting but malicious. "I gave you a chance to do this easily, to be gentle. But if you insist on doing this the hard way..."
Alena's head suddenly felt like an impossible amount of weight landed on it, sending a sharp, piercing pain riveting through her mind. Her mouth opened to scream but she found nothing more than a strangled moan could escape. Dropping the dagger, she reached for her head with her hands. She tried to think, ascertain where the attack was coming from but, in her pain-filled state, thought was difficult.
Despite the pain, she managed to open her eyes and focus on Durron. His smiling had turned into laughter. He's laughing at me! she thought bitterly, some of the pain in her mind releasing its hold. Laughing at my weakness! Damn him! Damn him!
She did not know where or how it came but, somehow, her will broke free of Durron's hold and the pain subsided.
However, her mind fazed, losing its focus and stability. She forgot all about the plan she and Brey went over countless times. She forgot where she was or why she was even here.
All she knew was Hun's training, her tormentor in front, and a blood-red haze of hatred. She became one with her instincts and knew what she had to do to seek revenge: she had to kill. Screaming in rage, Alena charged the man, soft, satin pillows flying out of her path.
Durron's eyes widened in surprise but was quick to respond, easily dodging the rush. The man leaped to the other side of the room, an amazing bound given the length. "You have a strong will," he grimly muttered, "but you are still overmatched."
"Shut up!" screamed Alena, hatred raging in her eyes. "You'll die many times over before I'm through with you!"
"I think not," he smiled.
Alena started to charge the man again but she stopped in mid-rush, her eyes wide with shock. Durron's skin and clothes started to shift and change, colors filtering in an incandescent array of spectrums. Before she even had a chance to figure out what he was doing, the colors of his skin evenly matched the pillows and curtains, blending perfectly with his surroundings. "Find me if you can," she heard his voice echo from nowhere in particular and another blast hit her mind, causing the princess to double over in shock.
"It just goes on and on," Cristo muttered. Although it was the first time saying this, the bodyguard had been spouting similar complaints for awhile now.
"Cristo," Brey said, his voice exasperated, "there is no need to state the obvious. We'll get there when we get there. We're fortunate enough those beasts left such a large trail in these…" His voice trailed off, pausing in mid-step.
"'In these' what?" Cristo asked, not noticing the old tutor stop.
"Quiet," Brey commanded, raising an arm. Cristo turned and saw him slightly crouching in the bush, the old tutor's gaze steeled on something in the forest. The bodyguard looked to where he was focused on but saw nothing more than the trees and underbrush.
"What is it?" he whispered, following Brey's lead by crouching as well. The old tutor ignored him, his concentration trained on something else. Cristo looked at him for several moments, wondering what he was doing, until he saw his hands and mouth move ever so slightly.
A spear of ice formed and the old tutor threw his hands out, sending the cold projectile flying forward at seemingly nothing. It quickly disappeared but no sooner had it vanished when a yelp of pain could be heard echo throughout the forest - a yelp of pain from a rabidhound!
Cristo stared incredulously at Brey. "How did you know?" he managed to ask.
"I didn't," the old tutor replied evenly. "I just had a feeling, that's all.
"It doesn't solve our problem, though," he continued, his voice turning grim. "I'm willing to bet the Santeem treasury it's not alone."
As if to prove his theory, a blood-curdling howl, followed by several more, echoed through the area. "I think we're in trouble," he remarked dryly.
The forest seemed to come alive with movement. From all directions, the underbrush rustled and shifted, slowly drawing closer to the two men. They cautiously moved back to back, watching the forest with nervous anticipation. Cristo raised his sword defensively and Brey brought his staff to bear. "You think you can cast a few of your 'Upper's on us?" the old tutor asked. Cristo nodded and prepared to cast the first one on Brey.
At the same time, the old tutor mentally prepared 'Icebolt', knowing it would not be a good idea to exert his energy on casting it prematurely. Within moments, Brey felt his skin thicken, hardening as 'Upper' took effect. It was an odd feeling, as though his skin had started to grow goose-bumps only to continue growing beyond their normal size.
No sooner had Cristo's spell been completed when Brey had his thoughts interrupted by a sudden, snarling roar from beside him. "Brey!" Cristo's warning came but the old tutor was already reacting, displaying remarkable agility for his age as he whipped around.
'Icebolt' was finished just as he turned, and the spear of ice formed at his hands. He did not even need to let the deadly weapon go, however, as a rabidhound had already leaped at the old tutor, plunging itself through as it landed solidly on him. The spear of ice was still under Brey's control, however, and he let it go just as the rabidhound landed on him. The cold projectile burst through the back of the large beast in a spray of blood and gore before sailing further into the sky where it was lost from sight.
Brey collapsed underneath the dead rabidhound but his thickened skin absorbed most of the impact. The weight of the large beast was enough to momentarily knock the wind from his chest, though.
Cristo was about to congratulate Brey on the minor victory when he heard another rabidhound emerge from the bush. The bodyguard spun around, seeing its eerie, red eyes eager for a kill. He brought his sword in front to parry the attack but the large beast was undaunted, continuing to charge forth as its only wish to rip the flesh from the man's bones. Taking the only action he thought possible, Cristo swung his sword at the rabidhound, hoping it would run into his blade.
Fortunately, it did and caught Cristo's sword directly on the nose. It yelped in pain, backing up as it pawed at its bleeding nostrils in some sort of futile attempt to stem the flow. The bodyguard, not pausing to thank his fortune, immediately dove forth, his sword extended.
The rabidhound noticed Cristo's thrust, however, and easily dodged him to the side. The large beast snarled in vile contempt of its enemy, dripping gray foam mixing with its oozing blood.
The bodyguard had overstepped his thrust when the rabidhound dodged and the beast took advantage of the sprawling man, sending its foaming jaws lashing out at Cristo's leg. The beast's large teeth clamped down on his calf, sinking deeply into his flesh. The pain was so sharp the bodyguard could do nothing more than shriek out.
It was only for a moment, though, and Cristo spun his waist around, the rabidhound's shaggy neck in full view. The bodyguard did not waste the opportunity and chopped the blade down, sending a spray of fur and blood into his face. The rabidhound did not let go, though, unrelenting as it savagely jerked its jaws on the bodyguard's leg in an attempt to bring him down. Cristo, bearing the pain through clenched teeth, chopped again, and again, and again, knowing the pain would end once he finished the grisly task.
Within seconds, the rabidhound's jaws released their iron grip and it slumped to the ground, not even letting a whimper of pain escape its mouth. Cristo stood over his enemy, breathing heavily as he slowly let the satisfaction of the kill subside.
He brought a bloody hand up to his face to wipe some of the fur and blood from it. Just as he made contact, a spear of ice flew by his hand, followed by a yelp of pain. The cold projectile had narrowly missed his hand and the cold breeze it had created stung his skin.
Cristo blinked, hardly realized what had just occurred. He slowly turned his head to his left and saw a rabidhound slumped on the forest's ground, a four-foot long icicle between its eyes. The large beast had leaped at him without his knowing.
The bodyguard turned to his right to find Brey breathing heavily and leaning on his walking staff. "Handy spell," Cristo remarked dryly, finally brushing the fur and blood from his face.
"It is," Brey said, his voice weary, "but not easy to cast so repeatedly."
Cristo walked over to his companion and asked, "Is that the last of them?"
"No," Brey muttered solemnly, shaking his head. He pointed to the bush and said, "Look." In the shadows of the bushes, the bodyguard saw half a dozen red eyes glowing at them with a vile hatred as they slowly drew closer.
"Damn it!" Cristo muttered through clenched teeth as he brought his sword up defensively. "Can we run?"
"They're... too fast for me," Brey said between deep breathes. He stopped, his voice becoming deadly serious. "You go," he said, stepping in front of the bodyguard. "I'll draw their attention."
"Are you crazy?" Cristo exclaimed, looking incredulously at the old tutor. "They'll slaughter you!"
"Better me then you," he muttered grimly, his mind already preparing another 'Icebolt' spell. "I've already lived a long life. You have much more to do, and-"
"Stop talking nonsense, old man," Cristo sternly said, putting a hand on his shoulder to make him step back. Brey shot him a warning glare but the bodyguard ignored it. "I'm not about to desert a companion, no matter who he is."
Brey looked at Cristo, about to argue. However, the bodyguard merely smiled at him and the old man could not help but smile back. Damn fool! he thought bitterly, shaking his head. Brey turned back to the encroaching rabidhounds and dryly said, "Fine. We'll go to Zenithia together."
Alena groggily stood up, her mind still reeling from the last attack Durron had made. She did not know how much more of it she could take. Her will was strong but it took an abundant amount of it to drive back the pain it caused. She knew how she had escaped the initial attack, by reverting to the berserk frenzy she was prone to at times, but she could not use that to her advantage now.
She knew Durron was still in the room, otherwise the attacks would not be made. However, he had somehow blended in with the rest of room, cleverly eluding her grasp. She needed to be able to think clearly if she was going to be able to find him.
"What's the matter," his taunting voice came, again from seemingly nowhere in particular. "You seem to be losing your nerve. Can it be that you finally realize there is no hope for you, that you should just surrender your mind to me?"
"Why can't you fight fair?" she nearly screamed, searching the room for any hint of Durron's whereabouts.
"Fair?" he asked, sounding a little surprised. "What do you mean 'fair'? Each of us has different ideas of what 'fair' is. Right now, I think this especially fair, don't you?"
"Shut up!" she screamed. "I'm tired of your stupid mind games."
Alena thought she saw a flicker of movement to her left and she quickly dove on it, landing on a pile of soft pillows. She swore viciously, her choice of words very coarse given her social standing.
"Admirable," Durron said, his words having no hint of sarcasm. "You truly are persistent, aren't you?"
"It's one of my finer qualities," Alena grunted, throwing the pillows out of her way with disgust.
Another wave of pain assaulted her mind and Alena gritted her teeth, putting her hands to her head in an attempt to stop the throbbing. She tried to focus her head, stamping out the attack with all of her will. She strained considerably, tears slowly finding their way out of her clenched eyes. After what seemed an eternity of the mental battle, the pain subsided and Alena breathed heavily, the strain leaving her body weak.
"I must admit," Durron said, "no one has given me this much of a fight. Most would have given me their bodies long ago, their will reduced to nothing more than a quivering puddle of idiocy."
"Is that all you want?" Alena demanded, slowly regaining her stature. "Do you just want my body? Well, you can have it! Please just stop doing this to me!"
Durron laughed. "It would be too easy," he said. "I must have your soul if I am to claim your body. Neither of them go well without the other. I've tried it before."
Alena spat on the pillows in disgust. "You really are a sick bastard," she said, her words dripping with venom.
Durron did not respond, though, and her mind was assaulted again. She reeled back from the pain, collapsing in the pillows as she grabbed her head and moaned from the agony. I can't let him win, she thought resolutely. I... just... can't!
Her frustration began to amount, frustration at her inability to fight this. She knew Brey could handle this situation with cold, efficient tactics. She knew Cristo could handle this situation, his faith in Zenithism so strong it would block any attack on his mind.
Surely she had some sort of ability like theirs to combat this. Why could she not do anything about her situation then? Why?
The frustration was more than she could bear and the princess screamed out in rage, another wave of uncontrollable adrenaline crawling over her consciousness. However, she had no intention of using her rage to find her assailant. All she wanted to do was destroy anything in her path, her need to vent her frustration causing her to forget the situation.
The closest thing to her was a pillow and she grabbed it before tearing it to shreds, sending feathers spraying across the room. It felt great to destroy the pillow, and she wanted to destroy more. Finding the closest one, she proceeded to do just that, followed by another and another. The attack on her brain was all but a distant pain, her mind far removed from reality at this point.
Durron watched the princess with surprise, realizing her destructive force was random and she could at any moment stumble across his whereabouts. He tried to send another attack on her mind but, if she felt it, Alena did nothing to register it. Figuring he might be in a dangerous position should she stray near him, Durron decided it would be a better idea to retreat to the outer chamber and let his two pets guarding his home take care of her. Hastily, he made his way from his hiding spot and to the chamber's entrance.
Meanwhile, Alena was growing tired of ripping apart pillows and she knew the silk curtains would not provide any satisfaction. She needed something more.
Her eyes strayed to the chamber's entrance, her mind thinking of wandering out there to find something else to ease her frustration. Through the dizzying flight of hundreds of soft feathers, she detected movement of a different source. She had no idea this was the originator of her frustration, however. All her instinct registered was it was something else to destroy.
Her eyes filled with loathing, the princess leaped at Durron, firmly grabbing hold of the man.
He gasped in panic as Alena grabbed a firm hold of his neck and his skin suddenly flashed in an array of multiple colors. He tried to attack her mind again, sending his strongest psionic blast. However, it proved useless, Alena's mind so buried in a haze of rage that it barely registered as a dull pain she could easily ignore. He tried to squirm free of the princess' hold but she had it locked in tightly, her self-defense training already an instinctive part of her berserk nature. Durron's only hope was the rabidhounds outside. He called for them, his voice barely audible under Alena's iron grip.
Within seconds, the large beasts bounded in, their eyes glowing red and foam dripping from their eager jaws. They saw their master in trouble and would rip the flesh asunder from his assailant for harming him. They started to circle the princess, a low, guttural growl emitting from their large, shaggy chests as they looked for the best angle to attack without harming their master.
Alena, however, did not register the rabidhounds as threats but merely something else to vent her frustration on. "Don't worry, mutts," she glowered, her eyes filled with hatred, "you're next."
At that, she firmly twisted Durron's head, a sickening crack echoing throughout the small chamber. It happened so fast he did not even have a chance to scream, his life ending in the princess' clutches. She let him go and he fell limply onto the pillows.
Alena paid no attention to Durron as he fell from her grasp, already eagerly waiting for the rabidhounds to strike. However, instead of rushing her, the large beasts suddenly and violently jerked, their large jaws letting a mournful howl escape.
The princess watched them, suddenly curious by their actions. The rabidhounds continued to howl and started to paw and claw at the pillows underneath them before finally flopping down on their backs, breathing heavily with their tongues loosely hanging out of their mouths.
She did not daunt on the strange occurrence for long, though. Her mind was slowly regaining its composure, the rage subsiding for the time being. Unfortunately, Alena did not even have a strong recollection of her actions, a part of the reason she did not enjoy the frenzy.
She remembered being under attack mentally and her frustration mounting because she could do nothing against it. Then, quite suddenly, she went on a rampage, destroying pillows and killing...
Alena stopped her thoughts, a sudden, horrible sensation creeping up her spine. Slowly, she turned around, wondering if she really had done it. Lying at her feet rested a strange creature, remotely human but looking more like a lizard with its scaly, green skin and reptilian head.
She gasped upon seeing the creature's head; it was bent backwards, staring at her with horrible, wide-open eyes. Its mouth was open in a silent scream of death.
The princess backed up nervously, forgetting about the rabidhounds, forgetting about the pillows all around her, even forgetting her whereabouts altogether. She stumbled over a pillow and fell back, sprawling on her hands. She did not stop moving, though, still slowly backing away from the dead creature.
Not again! she thought, tears coming her eyes. Please! Not again!
She did the only thing possible at that moment; the Princess of Santeem wept.
Cristo finished the rabidhound off, grimly retrieving his blade from the large beast's eye. He watched it fall to the ground alongside another rabidhound, this one having a large icicle deep in its chest. However, the bodyguard had little time to celebrate the victory. There were still more of them surrounding them, and Brey, having exerted the last of his strength casting one more 'Icebolt' spell, was in no condition to fight any longer. The old tutor was so weak he had to collapse to his knees behind him. Ignoring a grisly wound on his left arm, Cristo gritted his teeth and waited for the next assault.
It did not come.
Instead, he heard several mournful howls from all around them, the bush thrashing violently. Cristo looked around, wondering what was going on. "Brey...?" he asked, keeping an eye on the bush. The old tutor, having regained some strength, looked around and became just as confused as his companion. It lasted for a while, then suddenly subsided as if nothing had happened. Both men waited anxiously, neither daring to move.
A rabidhound wandered out from the bush and Cristo brought his sword up defensively, preparing for its initial charge. However, the large beast seemed disorientated. It sniffed one of its fallen companions as though it had no idea what had just occurred, then looked at the two men, an indifferent expression on its face.
Aside from the strange, un-aggressive behavior the rabidhound displayed, Cristo and Brey both noticed something else that was different: its eyes were no longer glowing red but showed a moist, liquid brown that was common among all canines.
The large beast continued to look at the two men for a few moments, then staggered off into the bush, a faint rustle marking its path into the surrounding forest.
Cristo stared into the forest for a while, his eyes wide with shock. After a moment, he turned to Brey and asked, "What... just happened there?"
The old tutor started to rub his white whiskers, still staring into the forest. "I had a feeling about that," he muttered to himself, his voice still weary. "Those eyes were just too unnatural."
"What do you mean?"
"I think they were under some sort of spell," Brey explained, slowly standing up with Cristo's help.
"Under a spell?" the bodyguard repeated, his eyes wide with confusion. "By who?"
"Again, I don't really know," Brey muttered, resting on his staff, "but, if my guess is right, then Alena's succeeded."
"What?" Cristo exclaimed. "How do you know?"
"I don't," Brey said, "but we should find out, hhmm?" Cristo nodded and helped the old tutor move through the forest again, the rabidhounds' attack having left both men weary.
The trail was not hard to pick up again as they left the grisly battle sight and, despite their condition, they found a clearing relatively quickly. It gave way to the side of a hill, a steep, rocky incline dripping with moss and moisture. In the hillside, however, was the entrance to a cave. Both men entered it, Brey leaning on Cristo's shoulder to support his weakened condition.
They had not gone far into the cave when they heard movement ahead. The bodyguard brought his sword in front defensively and Brey started to mentally prepare 'Icebolt' again, even if he did not have the current stamina to cast it.
A pair of rabidhounds lazily wandered out but they did not attack, regarding the two men indifferently before sauntering out the cave's entrance. Both men looked at each other but said nothing, realizing their good fortune when they saw these rabidhounds also had normal eyes.
They continued forth, eventually seeing torchlight ahead. No sooner had they seen torches on the wall that they entered a large, empty chamber. In the center of the chamber rested the litter Alena had been in. Cristo rushed towards it, searching its contents. However, the casket was bare. "Alena!" he yelled, his voice echoing eerily off the muddy walls.
"Cristo," Brey's voice called out. "Over here." The bodyguard turned and saw the old tutor by the entrance to another chamber, this one having a red curtain across the opening. He rushed over and parted the curtains before Brey had a chance to. He gasped when he saw what the chamber revealed.
Luxurious pillows lined the walls but many of them were torn now, feathers floating everywhere in any direction they pleased. Evidently, a great struggle had taken place here but who had emerged as the victor?
As he stepped in, the bodyguard nearly tripped over something sprawled on its stomach across the floor. He bent down to inspect it and sucked his breath in. It was humanoid but looked more like some sort of lizard with its green, scaly skin and reptilian head.
It was the head, though, that had made Cristo suck his breath in; it was facing to the ceiling, its mouth wide open in a silent scream of torment.
Brey stepped in and saw the creature as well. Cristo looked up at the old tutor and asked if he had ever seen anything like it but Brey could only offer a shake of his head in response. "However," he said, "I'm pretty sure this is what's been terrorizing-"
He was interrupted by a faint whimper. They quickly remembered why they had come here in the first place. "Princess?" both called out at the same time as they began to search the room.
Brey was the first to find her, half buried underneath shredded pillows. She was crying, her head buried in her knees as her back heaved up and down.
The old tutor frowned. He had seen this before, back in Weser when Alena's sanity was in jeopardy. Was it now going to happen all over again, perhaps this time permanently?
Cristo noticed them and rushed forward, anxious to help in any way he could. However, Brey held up a hand to stop him, knowing Alena could be very fragile in this state. Only he should approach her since he had helped her before. Cristo nodded and stepped back, careful as to not trip on any pillows or the dead creature.
Brey knelt down beside the princess, careful not startle her. "Princess," he gently said. "It's me, Brey. Are you all right?"
Alena's whimpering subsided for the moment as she looked up at her tutor. She sniffled a bit, salty stains running down her cheeks. However, her eyes were not filled with confusion or disorientation as how Brey had thought. They were definitely filled with sorrow of some sort but there was also a glimmer of benevolence concealed beneath all the tears that obscured her eyes.
She smiled at her tutor, lightly uttering, "I did it. I killed it."
Brey smiled and gently hugged her, letting the princess lean into his weary chest. You're going to be all right, he thought happily. Just fine.