J. Chansellor - Son of Erebus

Ariana watched her mother reach out to her. "Mother," she whispered.

"Say the words and this will all be over, a nightmare from which you will awaken."

She closed her eyes, her vision starting to spin. Feeling overwhelmed, she knelt down, gripping the side of the well for support. This cannot be real.

"But it is. See for yourself what is offered to you. I can give you anything you desire, Ariana. Anything." Another face appeared in place of her parents, with the opposite effect. In the water she saw Sara.

"Sara needs me," she murmured. "No, this cannot be real. None of this is real." Her voice steadied with resolve and she rose to her feet, fighting the fog that blanketed her consciousness.

The little girl began to back away from Ariana as Koen's foreboding howl echoed in the distance.

"Say the words before it is too late!"

"No!" She screamed, groaning with nausea as the spinning increased tenfold. Suddenly, everything around Ariana decayed, the walls crumbling and the wood rotting. She covered her head and dropped to the ground, watching the drastic transformation.

The drugged feeling lessened only slightly, leaving a haze over her field of vision as she looked around her. A thousand or more years had passed over this place. Stone had not only eroded from rainwater, but thick moss had grown over the walls, or what was left of them. She rose to her feet, alone now, peering out past where the temple doors had been. Ruins. Nothing was before her but the ancient ruins of some long-ended kingdom.

"What?" she whispered. The sun, which had been resting on the very edge of the horizon, had fallen below it, replaced by a luminous pale orb.

Hearing Koen again, she tightened the strap of her satchel and started toward the sound of his howl, through the ruins and beyond the edges of the city, where she paused to take in her surroundings. It took Ariana a few moments to fully understand that what she was seeing just beyond her in the distance was snow.

She had never seen it. Palingard was too far south, and freezing rain was as close as it ever came. I haven't traveled that far north, I couldn't have. As far as she understood, the only place within six months' distance where it did snow was beyond the Elixen Sea. Yet, as she trekked opposite of the way she had come, snow fell from the sky and blanketed that which had to have been accumulating for many days.

She stopped and turned, making certain of what she was seeing. The snow stopped just outside of what had been the northern wall. From a few paces away, it looked as though the city had never been there at all.

"Koen!" she cried, feeling fear for the first time since the siege. She shook her head, again putting her hands over her face. "Where am I?" she breathed. "Koen!" her voice echoed through the trees. A large pale moon, now full, cast a bright reflection on the snow that covered the ground. The forest beyond was deep with darkness, leaving little visibility. Koen howled again in the distance ahead of her, and she ran toward him, falling twice as she slid down the embankment at the edge of the clearing.

His eyes were cold. Staring into the well, The Dark Lord Azrian watched the ripples shiver across the surface of the water from where his fist had made contact with the stone. A foul, black curse left his lips in a language he rarely spoke as he leaned over, resting his weight on the centers of his palms, his arms outstretched on both sides. He'd been foolish, he knew. Ariana had been there all along, among the humans, right in the midst of the fray. It was nearly insulting. He wondered if Ciara had felt it too. No matter, he told himself, keeping his eyes fixed on her pale skin and fluid blue eyes.

It has begun.

Michael had been tracking the wolf for miles as it dodged in and out of the woods, narrowly escaping his line of sight. The moon hung full in the sky, casting a glow off the powder-fine snow and onto the very edge of the forest as he crouched and waited in silence for his prey to reappear.

Michael was dressed in white, the leather of his tunic trimmed with pearl-colored brocade, only his reddish hair and blue eyes visible against the landscape. He was tall with a strong, lean build, and the large white wings typical of Adorian men.

He heard rustling to his left from across the field. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and readied it against the bow. In the darkness, he saw the gleam of two eyes, the same green hue that had been evading him. He watched them look down, then behind. Having seen something, the wolf leapt over a drift and into the light. It was covered in snow, and though Michael could barely see it from such a distance, he could tell this was indeed a different wolf. It was much bigger and less aware that it was being hunted. Michael stood up and eased his way in the same direction as his prey. He remained on the opposite side of the field and when the wolf began to pick up its pace a bit, Michael mirrored its actions. The forest would thin out if they went much farther, this was his last chance. He knelt down and steadied his aim. Releasing the arrow, it flew through the air across the field, letting no more sound escape from the bow than a mere whisper as the string fell back into place. As the arrow approached its intended target, Michael saw a girl move into its stead. He stood frozen for a moment, not believing his eyes, then heard a cry and a whimper from the wolf as the girl fell to the ground.

Dropping his bow, his large wings opened and with a fluid motion he rose into the air and glided across the field to where the girl lay.

"Are you…" he stopped mid-sentence as he saw markings on her cloak. There was little need to inquire into the girl's lineage.

She seemed unaware that he'd approached her and as soon as his hand touched her shoulder, she reeled from his grasp. Eyes wide, her expression was one of complete surprise. She held her hand to her side and shrank away from his touch.

"You have wings," her words sounded frail and thin, and to his shock, the very moment she struggled to speak he caught sight of the huge sword that lay at her side. A broadsword, it was much too large for anyone of her slight stature to use effectively. She was a wispy creature, with a thin figure and delicate, defined features. Dark red hair, visible even in the shadows, tumbled past her shoulders in thick waves, a stark contrast to her snowy white complexion. It reminded him a little of his own pale coloring. He started to ask her about the sword when her eyes flickered shut and she groaned in pain.

This did not bode well. Fears of how many Ereubinians had crossed over the divide flooded his veins like ice water, but he had no choice. He was scantily armed and alone. If it was a trap, it was too late to back out of it.

He leaned over to pick her up, first moving the sword from her reach. He felt a prick against his neck.

"Stay… away… from…" Another spasm of pain took care of her acerbic tongue, though it did not remove the dagger she held at his jugular.

In all the years he'd been in battle, he had never once seen a woman fight, let alone stumble upon one in the middle of the night in a protected realm, carrying more weapons than he probably was aware of. He quite genuinely couldn't discern what to do first.

A dark red stain was spreading from beneath the hand clamped on her side, soaking her tunic. He took a chance and lifted his hand to hers, prying the knife free, hoping the pain would override her strength of grip. "I need to see how badly you've been wounded."

She was struggling to keep her eyes open, but shook her head. It was mere seconds before her breath grew shallow and she lost consciousness.

After securing her sword at his back, he moved her arm away from her side. It was probably a shallow wound, but it was bleeding steadily. Placing his hand at the base of the arrow, he gripped the shaft with the other and glanced up at her. Leaving it whole would cause more harm than good, but he wasn't certain she was completely unconscious. Her cry as he snapped the arrow off, leaving the tip in place, answered his question.