The Obsidian Pillar

Chapter Four - The Beast

The chains tore at his scaled skin as he writhed in their relentless grasp. He let out a deep roar and pulled against them once more. The pain seared down to his paws which housed sharp, black talons. They dug deep into the scarred wooden floor in the room at the top of the tower. He stood up on his hind legs and bellowed ferociously, unleashing his large, black-feathered wings like two night-darkened banners.

'Do you hear me, witch,' he growled ferociously, his razor-sharp voice ricocheting off the stone walls.

Saliva ran from his scarlet, wound-like gash of a mouth. He flicked his long tail around the tower room, the end of which was sharp bone shaped like an arrowhead, and proceeded to lash carelessly at the random objects around him. These objects once had meaning to him in a past life, but held no memory in this state; they had no power over him now.

The beast let out another roar of anger and frustration, scraping his thrice-horned head along the circular stone wall of his cage. He had laughed derisively at her attempts to make him comfortable. She made it seem as though he could choose to leave at any moment were he not satisfied with the decor. The witch adored reminding him that he was trapped in his tower.

As he growled and shrieked and lashed in his prison high above the kingdoms of Cisarian, the rusty, old chains that had held him every night for over a decade finally shattered. For a small moment, he was stunned. Fortune had not favoured him so far during his pathetic existence.

He padded unsteadily around the circular room, which did little to aid his dizziness. He was weak. He needed to feed. Gazing at the curtained off balcony, he took his chance and ran. Tearing the heavy curtains apart with his horns of alabaster bone, he roared and took flight, leaping from the crumbling balcony in exaltation. Stretching and beating his feathered wings, he rose high above the tower. High above his prison.

The cold, northern wind that travelled south stung the inflamed welts around his ankles as he flew in the dark. His wings pushed forcefully through the air as he left the tower behind him, until it was nothing but a black smudge in the darkness. He wondered how angry the witch would be when she discovered that he had finally set himself free. Perhaps she will kill me, if she manages to find me, he thought gleefully.

He spread his wings until they strained under his urgent movements, eager to get a head start on his captor. He had heard tales of the land of Kralken, which dominated the North with its desolate, sprawling land, barren of fertile soil and grey in its rockiness. He swooped down, letting the air cool him while his lungs expanded, breathing in the pure ecstasy of his freedom. Kralken...enemy lands.

The orange lights glowing from a small village shone in the distance, luring the beast towards it; the smell of human flesh sifted promisingly through the air. He was so hungry that he could hear their beating hearts from the sky above. He glided lower, waiting for a sign of prey before he settled on the ground and lingered. He breathed heavily in the dark; his swift escape had exhausted him, but his excitement grew when he saw several people walking from the village. Murdering them all should not be difficult. His arrow-headed tail swayed in anticipation as he stood on all four paws and took a deep, chilling breath.

He felt a sharp pain in his side and turned to find an arrow embedded deep within his torso, slowly oozing black liquid.

The beast looked into the darkness for the attacker. She's here...she's finally come for me. But he was surprised to see a man, with an arrow docked on his bow, creeping forward into the moonlight alone; his sharp-featured face was hard and unmoving. The beast turned to attack, but the pain in his side was escalating. He yelped in agony before he attempted to attack once more, but instead he fell helplessly to the ground.

He was panting. White froth trailed from his ugly maw and the pain intensified with every howl. The man approached him slowly, unaffected by the ghastly sight of the creature, and retrieved his arrow roughly from the beast's side, eliciting an unearthly scream from him. There were torches in invisible hands moving towards them in the dark, but the man remained impassive and calm. He leaned down to the beast's horned head and bravely looked him straight in his jet-black eyes.

'Do it,' the beast grumbled.

The man's eyebrows fluttered in surprise at the sound of his voice, which was well-spoken, rich and entirely out of place in the mouth of the fearsome creature. 'I suggest that you leave before something worse than an arrow pierces you. I can guarantee that theywill not be as kind as I am.' His voice was deep and its tone was firm in the beast's ear, tickling his fur with his warm breath. Groaning in pain, he slowly spread his wings in defeat and, soaring into the sky, headed for the only place that would accept him as he was.