The Necromancer's Prince

Chapter 1

The night is too silent and the watcher is aware of the impending doom.

He is the only one in the right place... if only his comrades trusted him...

Hmmm...

The wind almost makes way to the dark forest but soon understands its folly and runs back as fast as it came.

He is sworn to protect this place and he will die if he has to. He adjusts the black mask that covers his face for the final time.

Here comes the devil.

He does not need to remove the half - metal helmet off the Wolf face to know his enemy is smirking... and there is a mile between them.

The death approaches silently but he is not afraid.

He may go down but he will not go alone. His bow is strung tight and his fingers barely brush the arrow when...

"Any last words?" A sharp and cold pointed metal is pressed to his back and he involuntarily gulps.

Fuck!

He never even blinked; how is the Wolf on his back? How can anyone climb up this high on the Larnan tree branch without him knowing, let alone find his hiding spot in this plunging darkness.

"Drop your weapon..."

He hates the disgusting warm breath on his ear and he twists away just in a moment before pressing his poisoned dagger on Wolf's neck.

...and he hates he can feel the smirk though he cannot see it.

HATE!

"DIE!!!" He hisses plunging the dagger to the disappearing green flames as he falls back to the emptiness losing his footing. "Oh shit!!!"

So, this is how he dies!

How humiliating!

The rich mocking laughter resonates all through the silent forest as he slows down his fast descend by grabbing the branches of the safe haven.

Now it is time for him to smirk as he shoots arrows after arrows to the shadows he sees in the darkness before graciously falling to the ground.

He can hear the curses of wounded soldiers but just as his arrow takes down the pack leader, the man easily catches it right in front of his face but his dagger makes home in the Wolf's thigh.

"Gotcha!" No one can evade his throws. At least not twice in a row.

He knows he has surprised his enemy.

Self-centric Asshole!

His amusement turns to disgust when the Wolf takes the embedded dagger off his thigh and licks away the blood on the sharp blade, so perversely.

"Yum..." Wolf rasps. "What is this? Huh? Mmm... Argentine poison? For me? Aw... so cute do you believe all the child stories, Watcher?"

No... No... No...

The poison is supposed to kill the...

Men on stallions and animals circles around him with their mocking laughter and he knows none of his 'poisoned' arrows killed any of them.

So much for his perfect plan.

Fuck this shit!

He unravels his trusted twins - katanas of his back, swirls them around to get his perfect grip before assuming his fighting stance his eyes never leaving the Wolf.

"A fighter, this one." Someone whispers.

"I think this is a 'she'. Look how prettily the swords are held. Just lacking in the front area, if you know what I mean."