𝙳𝚊𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚣: 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝙴𝚒𝚗𝚜

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎

The last of the fires dying, Krow and his men move through the camp. "There look to be no survivors. Good," Krow says, a pleased smile sliding up one side of his face.

Cerny's nostrils flare with each breath of charred air, the scent of smoke heavy around him, his head bounces, the lack of Eber's scent what bothers the animal more. Tugging at the reins in Kalls hands, Cerny whips his head, leading Kalls to yank at the bit in the beast's mouth.

"Knock it off, you stupid animal!"

"I don't see him," Jorin says quietly.

"Who?"

"Eber," he bites.

"He is dead!" Kalls laughs at Jorin's needless worry. "Burned alive like the rest!" Surprising the man, Cerny bites at his uniform coat, yanking him to the ground. Rearing to his muscled back legs, Cerny kicks out his front hooves as Kalls looks up only to see Cerny slam down on him. Stabbing his sharp hooves, Cerny drives his powerful legs toward Kalls, trampling him into the muddy ground. His nostrils flare, hot breath puffing from them like smoke from a dragon's, his black mane swaying as he curves his neck, his dark eyes set forward at the group of soldiers.

"Demon horse!" Jorin peeps, his face turning whiter than the chunks of unmelted snow among the tinder of the camp.

"Do not let him get away." Krow looks back with a grin. "That horse is the best stock this rotten military has. He

will have a new master." Krow sizes Cerny's worth. "He will suit me well." The steed snorts a cloud of hot breath.

A scent beginning to enter Cerny's deep nose, he tosses his head, arching his neck and lurching forward at a gallop. Nearly running over Jorin, the man jumps out of the way. "Lookout!" Krow and a few men lunge out of the way as Cerny tears past. His hooves pound into the mud, his pace slowing as Krow and Jorin's jaws drop seeing what the beast is running to. Slowly, Cerny trots to Eber, bouncing to a stop behind him. No greeting is returned from Eber to his horse as his focus and anger stay honed on Krow.

"You are alive?" Krow spouts woefully, seeing singed hems and soot covered fabric but little else wrong with the Captain. Slowly, Eber moves his hand towards the hilt of his blade. Vaguely seeing the younger man's movement, Krow looks to Eber's sword with his nearing hand, then up to his dark eyes. "You challenge me?"

"...I will kill you." The statement is said coldly and meant truly.

Starting forward, Eber quickens his pace, giving Krow little time to draw his sword as the two weapons clash, Krow's sliding off of Romhild. The men stay away, wondering how far any involvement on their part should go. Another clash of blades sends Krow's sword to a pile of burnt wood, lodging it in one of the pieces. With Eber lifting Romhild for his next strike, Krow yanks the blade free in time to block. The metals grinding on each other, the grading sound like a relentless honing block on the blades' edges. Gradually, with each hit, the Commander's sword chings until finally, the two men connect again with another slam of their blades against each other. Steadily, over the sounds of shaking crossguards, there comes the ping of a crack. Krow lowers his eyes from the Captain's to see that crack is forming in his own blade with Romhild pushing against the sharpened metal.

As though untouched, Romhild holds fast against Krow's sword as the man lifts his eyes back to Eber, a little more worry showing in them. With a kick to the Commander's middle, Eber forces the man to fall on his back to the ground. Seeing Eber lift his blade, the Commander's eyes flare and he pulls his sword over his chest as a last minute shield. Halting Romhild in his grasp and as he lets the blade fall to a stabbing position, the Captain drives the sword towards Krow, the weapon breaking through his blade shield, and stabbing into his body.

While jerking, Krow drops the other half of his sword still in his hand, his head falling to the ground and eyes staring into the sky. Steadying his breaths, Eber straightens, yanking Romhild from the dead man at his feet. Raising his angered eyes to the rest, Eber looks for the next challenge. The men look to one another as Jorin draws his sword. The rest of the soldiers follow suit and ready themselves to attack the solo man. Figuring this would be the way he dies, Eber turns the handle of his sword in his hand, simply waiting for all of them to come, eventually one of them surely to land a hit and bring an end to him.

From one of the small dying fires, the shadows waving on the ground begin to move out of sync with the flames, one of the shadows suddenly separating from the rest. Cerny stomps the ground, his head raising and nostrils flexing. Turning back the way of his horse, Eber watches the animal grow unnerved. The men halt, starting to sense danger themselves. At once, the shadows begin to grow, growls rising with them as Cerny jumps and nickers, the steed showing less resolve against whatever this is, than man.

One after another, more shadows jolt around the camp, growls and low roars following them. The men begin panicking at this witchery, Jorin barking to be ready for attack. Coming across his body, one of the shadows covers Jorin in its shade, the image of spreading claws over his face suddenly becoming real as they stab into his skin. Slashing the man to pieces, the shadow rushes to the ground quickly as it sprang from it. The men cry out to each other to be on alert, watching Jorin drop dead to the mud.

One after another, the shade creatures rise from the ground and dark corners of the rubbled camp, their shapes always shifting and morphing, growing fangs and claws, their mouths releasing growls that shake their jaws. The monsters surround the men, sweeping over the small army like a wave of roars, the cries of fear and pain spewing from the soldiers as they are slaughtered.

Each creature finishes its prey, lowering to the ground or clinging to the tattered remains of tents and wagons in the camp. Their jaws snap as they smack their mouths, the beasts of shade real enough to snarl at one another as blood drips from their fangs. With the shifting focus of one, the rest follow, turning towards Eber and Cerny. The steed shakes his head, anxiously moving behind Eber. Left to reevaluate the end of his life as he never would have seen coming, Eber stares at the creatures, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. The monsters growl, their jaws shaking as they move forward towards him.

"Stop!" The shadow creatures halt, some nearly in range to touch Eber. Like a single mind, the entities look towards the command. Standing in her tattered clothes, ash on her skin, Lorelei pants. The creatures growl at her command. Seeing their defiance, Lorelei lifts her head, her bright eyes boring into the dark monsters. "Obey," she growls in return. Steadily, they bow their heads, lowering to the ground and recoiling slowly to the form of one shadow at her feet. Looking up from her bare feet in the mud and the shadow that rests in it, her resolve fades, her stern expression setting on Eber tiredly. Cerny nickers as Eber moves forward, coming before Lorelei. Confusion mixed with exhaustion, they study each other and what of her is left in the creature she now is, as the streams of smoke float into the air above them.