Chapter Six: Deception

The moon's light had faded, the first rays of dawn and twilight speckled among the morning sky. The beast was running. Its fur was sleek and white as the nighttime stars, it was thick and blew in the wind. Its eyes were a clear, exhilrating blue, eyes that showed wisdom beyond and beast or mortal alike. Running, running, it only ever remembered running. A howl flew from it, a haunted, echoing, terrifed howl, and it collasped, a silver arrow sticking out of its right hand shoulder. Red stained the pure forest floor as the howls ceased.

The beast resisted death's calling. It stood in a shockingly human gesture, two paws in the air. Another howl tore from its' mouth, and its hind paws grew to skin. Human skin. The skin spread, the fur changed to a purple tunic trimmed in gold thread. Black hair spread in a mist around Jhun Nydia's face as he sat on the ground, panting. From the tunic he drew a glass hip flask filled with water from Tara, and he drank deeply before closing the flask.

"Thirsty today, are we?" A soft french accent said, and Nydia looked up.

"You should know what you risk by approching me on a changing night, fool." He responded in that low voice. Nydia gripped his aching shoulder. "What did you hit me with tonight, anyway?"

"A thirty percent silver arrow." The accent replied cordially, eyeing the blood dripping from his shoulder. "Allow me, my friend." With an out streched hand, the wound closed without a single word.

Nydia rolled his shoulders, and then said, "Is there news, my friend?"

"No, Jhun." He said. This man had a wide-brimmed black hat that was an eerie contrast to his pale skin. The skin itself looked as though it had not seen sunlight in two hundred years (it probably hadn't). His eyes were a hawk-like yellow, his lips were dark as coffee. He wore a long, black, flowing cloak, one far too large for him. Everything he wore, down to the sword buckled to his side, was black. His hair was black, although he kept it in a rather un-ruly looking ponytail. His name was Ahab Maundrell.

"No?"Spat Nydia, "Nothing?!? But you said that by now--"

"I said that I would do what I could. And I have. Do not question what I tell you, for it is the truth."

"Ahab.." Said Nydia hestiantly, "Ahab, what of the child?"

"She will be watched by you until I-- Ah, that is to say, the master-- decides what to do with her. Do you like her, Nydia?" Ahab's grin was cold. "Is she interesting for you? Does she have an eye for monsters like you--" A punch to the stomach quieted him. Nydia punched him again, Ahab fought, and in a moment they were a brawling mass of man. That is, until...

"SILENCE!" A cold, powerful voice commanded harshly.

Both Nydia and Ahab fell to their knees, whispering ''Master''.

***

And Eliac put her fingers together. "You are late." It was not a question, nor a statement of dissapointment, the words did not sound angry either. She was expressing a fact, one they all knew to be true, in an emotionless monotone. "You are late." She said, again, but this time she glanced at the two guards with whom she was with and added, "Why?" The two guards shuffled uncomfortably. Neither of them liked that face, empty of emotion and fear and respect. Empty of anything.

A silver bracelet, addorned with six glowing emeralds hung limply rfrom her right arm. Eliac had known that old magic would not be enough, that she would have to act her part if her plan was to succeed. They had already fallen prey to her character, because Eliac had known it would be enough to frighten them. She was already enjoying herself immensely, even now as the sun dissappeared behind the hills. She bit back a grin, thinking about what she would drink for tea today.

The guards took her silence as anger, she knew, they were looking at each other with a wordless thought. Finally, one came, from the stockier of the two guards. He had brown hair, and hazel eyes, with a red tunic and cape. "A matter condfidental does not need a peasent's... ah... expertiese." He answered sharply. The words were spaced far apart, and in such a low voice, Eliac wasn't sure she had heard properly. She answered anyway.

"The peasents who do your job for you,'' she replied readily; ''Most of the time your guarding 'expertiese' is the drinking of stolen ale and taking naps on guard duty after too much of the first-- I DO hope you can do that without a ''peasents'' help, monsuiers.'' The stocky guard blinked thickly, as though he had a heavy veil draped over his eyes.

"Enough!" The taller one shouted. At Eliac's raised eyebrow, he regained control. "What of this beast of yours, Eliac?" He said, searching her eyes for a sign of mischief. He watched, shocked, as a heavy white film formed over her eyes.

"You are to perish at the hands of a traitor,'' she said, in a mystic voice that did not come from this world or the next. The guards' thoughts were made of glass suddenly, clearly spread out before her.

"The beast, oracle,'' the taller guard whispered, ''What of the beast?''

"He is white, a light encased by the darkiness."She said, still in that terrfiying voice of immortalty. The wind blew, she closed her eyes, and then said, "Even now, I can sense him. I know he knees at the feet of his master." The voice retainted its empty quality. Eliac sighed, but she was no longer speaking to them. She was the voice of the future, and she was bound by the fate that future would bring.

A thought of glass had been tainted. The tainted thought, laced with lies, floated in front of Eliac's eyes. The guards could see them too, but had no idea what they were. "So!" She said, that unmagical part of her brain speaking first, "You have lied to me!"
The guards looked at each other in grave terror, thinking, She knows. This was what they had been warned about. "What did they offer to pay you in for killing me, humans?" No reply. "Jewels?" Again they were silent. "A warm bed? Higher pay? A slave?"

Nothing. The taller officer let loose a sigh, and Eliac smelled the answer on his breath. Ale. "ALE!?! You were going to kill me for mead?" Eliac sniffed the air again, and grinned. "Ah. Sad, that, about ale."

The guard looked confused. "What?"

"It has the beneficial effect of masking posion, doesn't it?" The tall guard's eyes grew wide as he recognized the reason in Eliac's morbid hint. She laughed, and he fell on the ground, wreathing in compulsions.

"So!" She said brightly to the shorter guard, ''Whats your name?"

***

"Enough of the games, Elf.'' It came out a hoarse croak. Eliac knew that voice.

"Ork. You can change now, if you'd like."

"How do I know.." --A cough-- "That you don't have me surrounded? Waiting to stick arrows in my side, eh?"

"Oh, I wouldn't need an army for that." She drew her sword, and the orks' eyes fell on it. Eliac recognized the glimmer of fear, and used it to her advantage. "Whats the matter? Is the fat, brutish orky scared of the Elf lady's nasty sword?"

The ork's human form smiled, a rabid grin. There was blood on his teeth, the wind carried its sickening scent to Eliac. His breaths were longer now, every word seemed to cost him dearly. His illusion skin had not been well cast, she could see that.

It started with his eyes.

They went from hazel to red, a deep red filled with hared and the madness of men's weak will. Men, who are seduced by power. Men, who are so like orks. Men, who feel greed and hatred and lust. Men, who Eliac hated. His skin grew from pale human skin to thick black scales, horns of savage ivory jutted cruelly from his head. His hair was long and dark, he had a small gottee, and a leer of curling fangs.

He drew an axe from his back, taking a step towards her. She froze. Eliac had not wanted a fight. She had wanted to talk her way out, because she hated the blade. She knew what would happen if she misused... But no, she must not think of that now. She threw the sword aside, it clammered to the ground at his feet, and the ork laughed. It was a hard, cruel laugh, like a boy's laugh after he had just squashed an insect.

"Are you surrendering to me?" The Ork inquired, sneering, taking a step forward with every word.

"No. I do not surrender to those below me." The Ork snorted.

"Oh, am I below you? I do not think so. You are weaponless, young, and there hasn't been a magic trainer in Cesium for five thousand years."

Eliac's eyes had grown blank again, they glowed with a faint luminensence. They glowed; with a savage blue energy, her hands alit with ancient power. "You are a fool to fight me." She said, leaping at him. She had no experience, he was right, but she would let her heart guide her this time. She would fight, and she would win; she knew this with every inch of her being.

Left, right, dodge, parry!

A never ending reign of blows came so quickly, the Ork's axe was merely a silver blur. Eliac's wounds healed instantly, but she did not realize it. She fell to the ground, her arms put up as though to defend herself. The ork laughed, that cruel croakish laugh, and raised the axe. He was going to kill her then, she knew.

***

She threw herself at the axe, grabbing it from the Ork. Before she knew what she was doing, she smote it down upon his neck. His blood stained her face, her clothes, the axe. His head went rolling into the river, to be found a fortnight later by two very concerned fishermen. Eliac looked at the blood on the axe, sat down, and wept. She wept in a place so quiet, every moment seemed an eternity.
Looking at her reflection in the river, washing his blood from her hands, she sat back down.

"I'm glad," she whispered to the heavens. "I'm glad I killed him."

***
"Why were you bowing to a complete stranger, then!?!" Demanded Circe angirly as Nydia offered a (False) explnation of the events that had occurred.

"It is a custom in my land, Circe." It was the first time he had used her name, somehow it sounded like sweet music on his lips and quieted her. "Speaking of 'Why,' why on earth were you out this late?"

"Saphira sent me to bed, and then she left," explained Circe calmly, even though it felt very odd to be standing in a forbidden forest talking to a potential murderer about why she was not in bed. "I slipped out and tracked..." She looked at him. "You as far as I could. When I found these scrape marks on the ground, I thought..." She paused. "I thought I had lost my heart again."

Nydia placed his hand on her shoulder. "You miss your family." Similar to Eliac's speech with the guards, it was not a question. It simply was.

"Yes," She said, wiping back the tears welling up inside her, "Very much. I didn't think I would, but I do."

"You thought I was dead," He began in disbelief, "And came to avenge my death in a forest YOU KNEW was full of deadly beasts?" Circe did not reply as a child. Her sea-colored eyes blazed with anger, a power Nydia had never experienced before, her fists shook.

"Yes. Because..."

He put his finger to her lips. "There is something you should know." He said, softly; in that rugged voice of his. A new feeling was gripping his beastly heart, taming him. Taming him as nothing else had before. "I am the beast. The marks you saw were from my changing, beneath the full moon."

"A werewolf!" Circe murmured, muffled by his hand; the tears she had bottled inside beginning to fall. Her reserve was failing her, her resolution lost somewhere in Nydia's eyes. "You're a..." After an eternity, the hand moved; from her lips to the side of her face. Slowly, it let go, falling to his side.

"I am a tamed beast," He said, staring at her, a glimmer of hope rising up in his chest.

"Tamed? By what?" Circe whispered beneath the moonlight, breathless; out of things to say for once.

"Tamed by the love of his lady. The lady who.." His hand gripped her cheek gently again, "Holds the key to my heart." He took a step foreward. Circe knew, then, that he was out of place as a servent. That she should shout for Nimori, or knee him in the groin, or just simply run away. She didn't care. Beneath the shelter of the trees, the warm blanket of the stars; she let him kiss her.

That night, the beast kissed the lady, who was paralyzed with fear, beneath the moonlight stars.

***

"Where did Eliac go, anyways?" Elba said, poking the fire with a long stick. It was the morning after the forbidden moment in (Ironically) the forrbidden part of the forest, but Niendel, Elba, Jack, and Nicholas G knew nothing of it. They had just awoken, the pale dawn light streaming through the huddle of trees.

"I haven't tha foggiest, mate," replied Jack with a large and partically exggerated yawn, beginning to eat his kippers and sausages.

"Nor do I!" Snapped Niendel moodily, glaring at his kippers as though they were his mortal enemy. He had not been sleeping well lately, he just kept dreaming of a dancing woman in white...

"Well, man, see here's, there's not no reason t' get snippy." Replied Jack in protest, but Niendel ignored him. Turning hastily away from the fire, he growled. Elba and Jack exchanged concerned glances before Elba, wanting to cover their tracks, abruptly turned conversation away from attention-seeking Niendel.

"Do you suppose BH would know where--"

"He said that there'd be no more of those pathetic code names!" Niendel snapped, and Elba sighed. G had went out hunting some time ago, and none of them had declared Niendel leader but Niendel himself. All he wanted to do was be a moody teenager, full of angst, so Elba and Jack hadn't minded much.

"Do you think G would know where Eliac went?" Before Jack could reply, there was a rustle heard in the trees. A cloaked figure strode into the campsite, the cloak covering its face.

"No," Said a man's rather rugged voice, "I do not."

"And why is that?"

"Because he is dead," came the strangely bemused reply, "He will die of cartiac arrest in less then," He glanced upward, where the unobscured sun had risen, "Three hours."

No one knew quite how to respond to that, so he went on, pulling down his cloak. "My name is Jhun," He said calmly, "G knew me as Nydia, my surname."

"You're the one whose been holding Circe!" Bellowed Niendel, with more energy then he felt; "Where is she!"

"She is not being held against her will," Replied Circe, in her green cloak, striding out onto the field.

"Circe!" The three of them said in unison, shocked. Jack was the first to recover.

"Circe..." He said dully, "You got any idea in the blonde head'a ures how far we bin traveling to find yas? And now you come strolling out onto the field!"

"Clearing," Nydia automatically corrected the boy.

"I say," Niendel grumbled, "can you leave this to us children?"

"Its hardly in a werewolf's nature to be patient," said an amused voice. Eliac walked out from behind a tree, covered in the blood that had dried.

"You're tainted for the first time, and therfore dangerous," said Nydia, sniffing the air with the sharp nose of a wolf.

"Yes."

"And you are upset."

"No."

Nydia raised an eyebrow, while the other children realized what he alluded at. Elba grew to a lighter shade of green, Niendel grew slightly more green then normal, and Jack's grim face could have been set in stone.

"I think you are. You are upset, because you have taken life. The one unforgiveable act here in Battleon-- a creature's life, something no amount of pleasure or gold can replace. The innocence and ignorence are stripped from you now, an armor cast aside. You have become a lady, and I think it was by accident." A dramatic pause didn't seem to fit the moment, really, but Nydia slipped on in anyway.

"You didn't mean to kill him." Eliac did not reply. She grew so pale, she was nearly a ghost against the darkly colored trees of the campsite. The crackling breakfast fire, and swaying trees were the only sounds of the forest; the birds were not yet awoken the brighten the world with their song.

Eliac knelt down, gagged several times, and wretched what little she had in her stomach. Circe and Elba turned away, Niendel rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like, 'Women.' Jack simply stood there, watching her turn over her stomach. Surprisngly, it was Nydia who ran to her.

"Are you alright, Eliac?" He said gently, offering a fine silk handchief and helping her up. She unceremonously seized it, wiped her mouth with it, and threw it down.

"What is happening here?" Demanded Nicholas G, returning with a deer slung over his strong shoulder, "What are you two doing here?"

"My buissnesses are my own, sir," Said Nydia, glaring cooly at Nicholas; speaking plainly. He was in full knowledge the old man's eyes were fading. His ears may still be as sharp as a fox, but his eyes were slow. Even now, with his werewolf nose, he could tell that the man reeked of fear's overpowering stench.

"Nydia!" Cried Nicholas, dropping the deer, drawing his sword and sprinting towards the reunited children. Nydia threw his hood back.

"Put that toothpick away, old man," replied Nydia callously, a thin smile running up his face; "it is of little use against me."

"Is that so?" He said, shething the blade.

"Nicholas, you need not be alarmed." Said Eliac, "Nydia was only trying to help--"

"Nonsense! Be silent, child, you do not realize what this thing is capable of, what havoc--"

"You mean he's a werewolf?" Said Niendel. His voice sounded tight, as though it were stuck. As though Niendel himself were a very tiny action figure, waiting to be played with.

"Yes," Said old Nicholas G, "How did you--"

"I have changed, Nicholas." The voice growl came from a pure white beast where Nydia had been standing, and Eliac recognized him.
Nicholas, ever nimble and alert, drew a bow and arrow from his back. Nocking and shooting arrows so quickly they may as well have been dreams, he fired them at the beast. Most of them Nydia managed to dodge, but one, only one, struck his heart. A howl peirced the morning, one that shook the trees and the spirits of all beings in the forest. The dead rolled in their graves.

The howl was too much for Nicholas to take. He rolled over, clutching his heart. Before he died, he said only four words: "So sorry... my son..." Both of them died that day without a burden to bare. From that day forth, it was known as Darkovia. Forever would it be whispered among the people how it was haunted. After a moment of silence, Circe screamed. Running to the wolf, which now had a strange silver light around it, she sobbed wildly. The wolf changed to Nydia, dead, his eyes rolled back.

"Don't leave me," The beautiful enchantress whispered in a destroyed voice, "Don't leave me, I love you too."