Song of Seven

Song 10: No Escape but Forward

The creaking sound of wooden planks and frayed ropes echoed down through the chasm as Seven and Axel stood defensively on the long bridge, facing down a group of black-robed cultists who had followed them down into this secret dungeon. The warrior and sorceress were outnumbered and in a precariously dangerous position with nowhere to retreat to and only one path forward. Their attackers were only given a momentary pause, being startled by the bestial form of Axel's transformation, but they advanced slowly anyways.

Seven froze in fear, partially because of the terrifying presence of the dangerous werewolf that stood beside her and also with being faced by the cultist group who had previously been her enslavers. She took a few steps backward towards the solitary chunk of rock that stood as an island in the center of the chasm, the grip on her whitewood staff tightened in fear as panic set in. "Leave us alone!", she shrieked in terror, and the sound was amplified to a screeching pitch as it bounced off the yawning pit below the bridge.

"You expect us to simply turn around and forget about you? You have our book, and you are our property," the cultist closest to the bridge sneered and taunted. The blackened steel dagger in his hand reflected a glint of light off of Seven's luminous orb, hinting at its keen edge. The dark-robed figure knew that neither of them would surrender the book or the girl without a fight, and he wasted no time in dashing across the bridge toward Axel, his dagger slicing a wide arc toward the beast who stood in his way.

Axel's reflexes were sharp, even in the dim light of Seven's magic he saw the attack and moved his sword to deflect. Steel on steel rang in his ears as the cultist pressed the attack, a series of wild swipes, stabs, and changing angles. The bridge shifted and swayed as the two combatants planted their feet and exchanged strikes, and even in his wolf form, Axel shuddered at the thought of losing his footing and toppling over the edge. His fur bristled in fury, and he dug his feels into the groaning wooden blanks below his boots, a low and defensive stance would secure him from being pushed into the pit. 

Following a signal from the man engaged with Axel the rest of the cultists moved with an unsettling grace, their black robes billowing like storm clouds as they spread out to surround the werewolf and cut off any escape off of the bridge. In their hands, they carried the black steel daggers that glinted malevolently off of Seven's magical light. 

With a guttural growl, Axel slipped his sword back into its sheath and sprang into action. He bounded forward, his massive paws thudding against the bridge. The first cultist lunged with his dagger, but the werewolf's reflexes were lightning-fast. He sidestepped the attack and swung his massive clawed hand, knocking the cultist off balance. Before the cultist could recover, the werewolf's jaws snapped shut around his throat, silencing his scream before dropping him into the darkness below. "Don't just stand there Seven, use that magic of yours to help me!" Axel growled, glancing back momentarily to see the sorceress locked in panic, her eyes wide with horror and paralyzed by inaction.

The remaining cultists hesitated for a moment, their confidence shaken by the sudden loss of one of their own. But their eyes burned with fanaticism as they watched Seven clutch at the book they had found in this cavern, one barked a command, rallying the cultists to attack again. They surged forward, daggers gleaming in the darkness.

The beast met their assault head-on, his movements a blur of fur and fangs. He parried dagger strikes with his powerful claws, each clash producing a note of singing steel and echoes. He lunged and swiped, his claws finding their mark on one cultist after another as blood droplets filled the air with the smell of warm copper. The bridge swayed violently with the force of their battle, the abyss below seeming to hunger for the fallen.

Despite their numbers, the cultists couldn't match Axel's strength and agility. One by one, they fell before his onslaught, their black robes staining crimson as their life force ebbed away. The last one fought with a desperation born of fanaticism, his strikes more precise and fierce than the others. But even his skill was no match for the beast's primal fury.