Kings And Queens

Justice or Vengeance

Stiles stayed up a little later that night, staying on the training grounds, out of sight.

There was just something that clicked when he held the sword. Over the several days that he practiced with it, and some of the other weapons, all of his clumsy qualities, all the things he struggled with before started to slowly disappear.

He picked up his sword, the moon and what was left of the fire giving him the only light he needed.

It was well over midnight when Stiles finally went to bed, tomorrow he would be fitted for chainmail and armor. Which meant a whole lot of standing still for him which he was not really partial.

A small lick of air brushed his neck, making him pause.

Turning around, Stiles looked behind him, searching for any sign of someone standing behind him.

"Hello?" He called out, but there was no one.

As if there was a compass in his head, giving him the directions, he started to walk forward.

He descended countless stairs going lower and lower beneath the castle. Going down a dark corridor he paused when he saw a torchlight coming from around the corner.

Hiding behind a pillar, a patrol passed by completely oblivious to where Stiles was.

He continued his way down, pausing only to grab a torch and light it on one of the candles on the walls.

There was one last staircase, which Stiles made haste to go down. Finally he opened the door and nearly fell off the ledge.

It was a giant cavern. Big enough to keep a dragon contained.

It's been empty for years by the looks of it, a long chain embedded inside a large stone pillar, the links as big as Stiles's head.

Something called for him not just in there, but down.

Thinking quickly and running quickly he got a grappling hook from the castle armory and planted it on the edge, throwing the rope down and gathering his courage he started to climb down.

When his feet touched the ground he relit a torch that he had strapped to his side for the way down and started to venture farther into the cave.

He found what he was looking for quickly.

There was a patch of ground that was perfectly even. Not a single stone to make it any less flat.

It was circular, and starting at the edge was a line of runes carved deep into the stone that Stiles didn't recognize. But that wasn't what had bothered him, it was the shape the runes were carved into.

A spiral. The sign for a vendetta.

Stepping into the circle he found himself blasted with cold air. When he breathed his breath fogged.

There were three specific runes that had caught his attention. Putting a hand on it, it started to glow orange.

He should stop it, he knew it, but he found that he couldn't. His hand simply moved to the next tune that called to him and it flowed blue.

Then there was the final one, and when he touched it there was a bright flash of light and he found himself waking up from a bad dream.

He was back in his room, looking around in confusion.

It was still dark outside, but the east was getting lighter, telling him that dawn was coming.

He didn't know if what happened actually happened or if it was a dream.

Unable to go back to sleep, Stiles decided to go to the training grounds early, and as soon as he grabbed a sword he did feel something different. He just didn't know what until he started sparring against Percival.