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Thread: Dragon Cursed

  1. #1
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    OHNOEZ YAMI IS MAKING ANOTHER FIC THREAD, HIDE THE CRITICS HIDE THE CAKE HIDE THE PIE AND HIDE EVERYTHING ELSE FROM ENIVETABLE [lol typo] FLAME WAR DEVELOPMENT!!!

    Ok drama over;

    Warnings of Possible: Death, Violence, Gore, Fantasy-shmancy plot holes, dragons, cliffs, falling rocks, poisonous snakes, unicorns, slight Yaoi/ghey/gay/OMG MANXMAN?! and other various crap including a wtf-able plot.

    Characters @ Me or Zephyr .. tf did you have to make a hard to spell name, SANDRA DRAGONEYE. So there >.> edit: Curse you sandra for editing my post!

    Raiting is R. FOR A GOD DAMN REASON IF WARNING DID NOT HINT PEOPLE.

    Table Of Contents
    Prologue: A Legend In Blood Status: Up
    Chapter One: Cursed Life Status: Up
    Chapter Two: Darkness Creeps Status: Up
    Chapter Three: The Coming Flood Status: Up
    Chapter Four: [To Be Titled] Status: In Progress

    Also forgive me if it's crap, haven't wrote anything really serious like this for like, five months. Or more. Lol.





    Prologue

    A Legend in Blood

    It is said that the day after the god created the world, he created four sacred beasts first. They were the Phoenix, Dragon, Griffon and Unicorn. And upon each was placed power, immortality and the charge to watch over the world their creator had made. They were dubbed sacred and above the touch of any mortals hand. And with that, the one that had made the world, the four to watch over it and those that would inhabit it, retreated from view. Taking a rest as to do what was done took alot of power out of the being.

    Days of its absense, turned into weeks, which turned into months. Then years. Centuries. And finally Millenia. But still the four watched, ever faithful, ever paitent. But soon the world seemed to become to much to watch even for the four, to many conflicts happening, to many people deaf to their words. To many that turned their backs upon them and stopped believing in their creator. Dark times fell onto the creatures as the hearts of the creations, became stronger then the will of their creator.

    Centuries trickled by, the Four Guardians started to become slow and dumb, for when the humans abandond their god, their god, abandond them, and consequently, those that had been made to watch over them. But mankind was still fearful to try and take down the last remains of the touch of the god in their world, as while they had become no smarter then a beast of burden they still held terrible power.

    But on man decided, he would do such a feat. For one of them, had ransacked his village. Stolen his cattle, burned homes, and killed his sister in its attack. Enraged at her death at the beasts claws and teeth, the man took it upon himself to bring the corrupt beast to justice. Long and hard was his journey. For far away did the creature's lair rest.

    But months, years, however long it took him, he found the creature. Sleeping like the lazy, evil thing it was, the silver and black beast slept unawares of the man that crept closer. Blade raising, eyes glinting for revenge that would finally come and strike the creature down. For even if it held power. Even if it was able to eat three cows in a single gulp thanks to those horrifying teeth filled jaws.

    It was no longer immortal.

    The blade came down.

    The creature roared in pain, but even as it tried to lash out, the sword had finished cutting through hits neck, severing head from body. Blood sprayed everywhere, including onto the man. And while the creature had been beheaded, there was still power in its blood, flesh and dying mind that suddenly was clear of the haze that had befallen it for so long.

    And with a rattling hiss, that was the leaking air from its bloody neck, the head spoke. ‘You will gain power. You will gain status. You will have wealth beyond your dreams. But you nor your children. Nor their children or children's children and so forth, will never obtain what you truely desire. ’

    And with a last rattle of death from the final dredge of air from its lungs, the eyes faded and glazed over. And the Dragon was dead.

    - - - - -

    She was dying. She knew it, she could feel it. A writhing evil that slithered and creeped through her belly. Sending ice shard like chills through her body as the slimey feeling continued to creep closer and closer up, towards her heart. The woman knew she would never live to see the child born to this vile thing, but she did not blame the child, not anymore.

    For she would be free of the evil that used her body to draw further strength and nurishment for the child growing within her, then normally should. But she realised the true victim, was her unborn. Not even five months along, and already destined to be a slave to the wicked curse its father had gained. She looked to her husband, already mad with power as he giddily told her what they would do once the babe was born. But the woman was smarter then her husband. She had heard the words said by the dying dragon, even if he had died years before her husband had found and married her. Before he had gone mad.

    She heard the whisper in her dreams, and it got louder with every day that came closer to when the child would be birthed into the world.

    Looking away from her husband, and ignoring the unnatural chill that she could feel her rounding stomach had taken, the woman laid a hand upon her belly, wishing to the other guardians, to even their creator, that he would find it in his heart, to spare this child. Some how, some way.

    ... But on the bed where she gave life, and had it taken away from her, in her last moments, the woman realised, forgiveness, even for her, was a long, long way away...
    Last edited by Yami Ryu; 26th June 2008 at 12:59 PM.

  2. #2
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    I spotted a few typos.

    like some its turned into hits or his or something. I can't remember so nya. Kinda curious about this. A part of me is wondering if you could have made the story a bit more mysterious, now we know the family is sorta cursed when we could have learned that over time.

    Kind of takes out the mystery, but at the same time you can take it down a different way then. Meh I dun know, I'm very interested. I am guessing the story is going to follow the baby being born, but I don't know that yet.

    You really havn't dropped me any hints abotu it away from sppf so I don't have a clue :P so yeah interesting.
    Nearly eight years ago, I met Yami Ryu on this forum. She was a flamer and angry, but yet we became the best of friends.
    It was in December of 2011 that she found out she had cancer.
    It was January 9th when she passed away.
    A connection I made eight years ago on this forum passed away, alone, unloved by most, her own father probably didn't care.
    I love you, Yami Ryu, you are my best friend and I miss you so freakin much.

  3. #3
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    Somehow I see one steady reviewer for the near future... but then again no one really reads the crap I work hard at, at making, anymore save you and a couple others, Myuu :D

    Anyways.

    Kinda curious about this. A part of me is wondering if you could have made the story a bit more mysterious, now we know the family is sorta cursed when we could have learned that over time.
    Because the curse is only mysterious to the other characters, that don't know about it, unless they have it. The readers are going to get to know how this curse acts quite well... or will they?

    And nope haven't dropped you hints and not gonna drop them here, this is going to be the first story not even you or Sandra have a full grasp of the plot or how things will unfold >:3

  4. #4
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    Haha first confusing chapter done and suffering from problems I yell at others over hurhur 8D

    I don't know how many pages it is, but I know it's size is around 12-15KB or whatever that is. I use Notepad. Notepad rarely eats my fics like Word does. But Notepad has no spell-check :<

    Also I left out the cursed princes' name on purpose. Is that the word? >.> I can never spell it right. Anyways his name is revealed in the second chapter.

    Not like anyone cares 8D


    Chapter One

    Cursed Life

    He had learned to not wish for anything. Nor want. Or need or dream or hope, or care. For anything.

    This lesson had started the day of his birth, when his mother died, and his father's mother, and his grandfather's and so on and so forth. There had been no woman born into his family since the curse had happened, there would be none he suspected untill the curse was broken. But did it matter? Of course not. But his mother's life mattered, he had never known her, not even by a picture or any words from his father as apparently, he had just bought the poor woman from her family to produce an heir for him. Never caring that doing so would doom the woman to her death.

    A hand moved to rub at his temple as if he had a headache while continuing to stare out his room's window, almost like one of those fairy tale maidens stuck in the highest tower in the darkest kingdom of the land. And as thiss thought crossed his mind he darkly muttered out “Not like it's any different.” Before growling and shoving away from the window, disgusted by the near cheerful attitude the day was taking as his thoughts turned inwardly again while he stalked over to a wardrobe. Barely even glancing at an old and ragged and somewhat blood-stained pillow that was by it. But he didn't have to look at it to remember.

    He wouldn't forget that day.

    A woman had tried to use him to win the favor of his father, bribing him with a litter of hunting dogs, just weaned from the mother. He'd been overjoyed at the gift, not caring that it was a bribe to the ten year old. He was just happy to have company outside his ******* of a father, and things that actually wanted to be with him. That day had been the best, he hadn't grown tired of the puppies, and had decided that all of them, would stay in his room.

    He made a big show, choosing one of his largest pillows, and an old blanket, making a bed for them and managing to get them all onto it, and to stay.After making sure the last one had fallen asleep, the young prince had crawled into bed eyes still glued onto the five fuzzy frames that lay on top another on his pillow. And it was on that heartwarming sight that the young prince fell asleep.

    It was to a blood curdling scream of a puppy, that he awoke to.

    Jerking awake, heart thumping, he'd whirled around, and screamed at the sight. Rats. Rats were eating the now dead puppies, or dead puppy, the rest were gone. And these weren't small rats either, he'd never seen ones so big, so evil and foul looking or smelling, so bla- .. It was that that sent him into a horrible rage and with another scream he had lunged himself at the things, only to fall on the floor as the rats vanished, leaving behind the remains of what was left of the five puppies.

    ‘Never have your desires,’ a cruel and malice laced voice had hissed to him in the back of his mind as the boy broke down into tears for the first and last time..

    Closing his eyes tightly, the young man let out a hissed breath before opening them and then proceded to pull out a new shirt and tunic, “You take everything from me, must it include my good clothes?” He snapped bitterly at the air, not expecting an answer, even though he got a faint and dark chuckle at the plight. But this was ignored as the prince quickly tossed the change of clothing onto his bed and stripped of his upper clothes. Revealing a wrapped chest and right arm, blood seeping through the bandages on both places.

    Hissing again from either pain or annoyance he went about to change both. First he unwound his chest, taking care of the seemingly alive and writhing mark that wrapped around his upper chest, just below his armpids and which was starting to disappear behind his back. He gently poked and prodded where the black mark seemed to writhe the most, producing some blood and he frowned, he had been careful lately, it shouldn't be messing up like this..

    “I thought you didn't want me to enjoy an early release from you.” He grumbled, wincing in pain that a careless prod he did caused. There was a feral hiss in the back of his mind, but that was all as he moved away from his bed, pulling a roll of bandaging off the table and went to wind it around his chest. Much practice had been done before and it was only moments later he had rebound that part of the mark and ripped then tied the bandaging.

    Next was his arm, which he took no joy in revealing, even if no one was there. Off came the long black glove, showing the heavy bleeding it had been hiding, and showing the prince the true reason of his pain for the morning from the arm as he went to unwinde the bandage. First revealing his fingers and hand which seemed a sickly black, no longer a pale white of the other hand. One might thing it was blood untill a closer look would show something like scales now.. instead of skin. And it seemed to progress farther and farther up the arm, and as it moved, cracks formed and blood seeped. While it looked painful, outside a wince, the prince let no other emotion show on his face as he tossed the soaked bandages to the side, not even looking at the tattoo like mark that seemed to be formed from bleeding slashes alone, he quickly started to bind his arm with unflinching speed.

    Without another word he moved back over to his bed and reclothed himself and made one more stop before leaving his room- to get another glove to cover the bandaged arm. And then he was out the door.

    Quickly making his way down the hallway, and through most of the castle to get outside, he ignored when the servants hastily got out of his way or averted their eyes. Making no show to hide their fear or disgust of his cursed form as he hurried on his way. He was used to the looks, infact, he'd be surprised if someone in his fathers employment that didn't look at him like that. Anyone in the kingdom, that didn't look at him with those expressions.

    Hell, anyone in the world once they learned what he was.

    But there was one thing, no one dared raise their voice or hand to stop him, as he quickly made his way to the stables. Ignoring the stable hands he got his own gelding ready, not caring as putting the saddle amongst other things onto the horse caused him enough pain to see stars, he wasn't weak. He could take it. But only the horses would hear the pained grunt that came as the prince pulled the somewhat stubborn animal out, and only his horse heard the second one when the young man pulled himself into the saddle before kicking the beast in the side roughly and forced the gelding into a fast trot.

    So intent was he to get away from the castle and the kingdom as quickly as possible, even if for a short time, he never fully noticed the rider with a mounted armed guard approach..

    - - - - -

    His full name was rarely used completely, not that he really liked it when it happened, people usually got his last name wrong and it irked him terribly, but the rugged looking man was able to keep his cool as he eyed the king reading a note.. what had his own father dreamed up now he grumbled inwardly..

    “Well, Valentine,” the older man started to say as he tucked the note away when he had finished reading. And ignoring the slight correction muttered under the young princes breath as he continued, “It seems your father and I have come to a decesion to become allies.. but since I have no daughter for you to be betrothed to-” At being told this, Hance Vaithne made a barely hidden look of disgust. It's not that he hated women.. he just hated how most acted..

    “It's been decided you and my son will become aquaintences and fast friends.” The old king finished with a somewhat mocking look towards Hance when he noticed the slight disgusted and disgruntled look on his face. “You may want to hurry, though,” he added suddenly. Tone thick with false concern.

    Hance eyed the older man, “And why is that?” He asked, a bit wary. Even more so when the king grinned a bit. “Oh, my son isn't well in the head you see. Keeps trying to kill himself when no one watches him... and I've been told he managed to slip by the best of my men and disappeared on that ragged horse of his..” Hance could see the threat behind the mans' supposed words of worried care. Silently he glared before whirling slightly and stormed off.

    He was not in a pleasent mood as he strode quickly for outside, yellow-green eyes were narrowed to slits nearly as his somewhat unkept and thick black hair hid this and most of his face from view. Not that anyone tried to get a good look at him as he quickly approached his steed once clear of the castle. The large equine was a mixture of red and brown, with eyes that shone with intelligence beyond what an animal should have. Which would have been noted if the stable hands she was glaring at for daring to touch the mare had done more then curse when she bit them.

    Running a hand over her neck when he reached her, he gave her a loving pat and recived a playful nip at his hair in return before he quickly pulled himself up into the saddle, “C'mon girl,” he murmured almost lovingly to her and she whickered and went to oblige as Hance glanced over to a stable hand that had been smart enough to not try and tend to the horse, and went about his daily buisness. Untill Hance called out at him; “You there, did you see where your prince ran off to?!”

    The stable-hand started at being adressed and turned to look, not hiding the look of fear fast enough from Hance as he spoke after a slight stammer. “No, sire, for he left to quick.”

    This displeased Hance, but not at what the stable-hand said, but more the fact the lie behind it. It was fairly obvious, the nervous look and body language the man held. And the quick excuse to get back to his work. With a mutter Hance gripped the riens and with a nudge of a leg, causing his horse to turn in a move that was nearly like a dance step before he nudged her again and she shot off without another command.

    ‘Why do I put up with these situations,‘ Hance thought bitterly to himself as he rode quickly in a vain attempt to keep his honor clear of a possible incident.

    - - - - -

    The young prince had managed to get himself lost, again, but he didn't really care right now. What he did care about was when another few strands of his light brown hair got into his eyes again. Cursing under his breath he used his left hand to sweep the offensive strands back, but it did no good as the slight breeze toyed with his hair and once more set it back into his face. Scowling at his perdicament he decided to ignore the misbehaving hair for now and deal with it later after he found his way back home.

    Allowing the horse to slow to a walk, he let his mind drift even if the thoughts he had weren't all that pleasent. Knowing he didn't have long really didn't help, even if he didn't know the exact time he had left. Glancing to his right arm with a look of resigned hatred, he turned his gaze back to the unkept path the horse was carefully picking through the forest and went back to thinking.

    Which was his undoing, actually. He barely registered the howls of the beasts in time or the swift black forms that seemed to erupt from the forest around him. The only consolation this wasn't the curse bringing about his death was the fact they weren't all perfectly black, their eyes weren't glowing red. But that didn't mean these were regular wolves that did inhabit the forest.

    The horse screamed in fear, bucking and kicking off its rider before bolting, black furry forms swarming and nipping at its legs and hooves, seemingly herding it towards its place of death more than likely. The young prince yelped as he hit the ground hard and lay there stunned from the fall and the pain that made his whole body feel afire. But he didn't lay still for long as he recovered, pushing himself to try and get to his feet, or atleast managing to get to his knees and hands and came face to face, with one of his attackers.

    The beast was once a wolf, but no longer. Its deformed head seemed more skeletal then it should be, eyeless sockets seemingly stared back with dark pits of something that shifted ever so slightly now and then. The mishapen muzzle parted, sending out a wave of foul smelling air and revealing broken and blood stained teeth. The wolf-thing shifted, coming closer slowly towards it's newest prey.

    The prince felt a chill down his spine at the abomination before him but he didn't take his eyes off the demonic creature. Even as he heard the others that had stayed behind shifting. Growling. Coming closer, preparing to attack...

    ‘This is how everything ends? .. Atleast I'll be free of this curse then...’ The prince bitterly thought as the beasts drew closer, not even hesitating now. The wolf-thing before him, seemingly the alpha of the pack let out a short and rattling howl before going to lunge, signaling this would be his kill! His alone! The prince just shut his eyes tightly. Not from fear of his end, but from the fact the foul stink was hurting his eyes and nose, and it was like he could taste the stench in the back of his throat.

    So he never saw his wrapped arm shoot up with lightning speed nearly. He did feel the sharp pain as it agonizingly set his nerves aflame while striking its course for his mind. Screaming, as it hurt more then ever before, his own scream drowned out disbelieving howl as the curse controlled arm gripped the Wolf-thing's throat in the slim hand, then in a movement that caused another flare of pain for the prince, the muscles in the arm rippled, a wave of power heading straight for the hand. And it was like the throat exploded from the crushing power that was summoned by the cursed mark upon him.

    Gasping, from pain more then anything as the now lifeless form was dropped, and ignoring the stinking black blood that covered his arm, shirt, and even face, he could only scream again as a wolf-thing attacked, tearing into his left arm as another wolf-thing lunged from the back. The pain was almost unberable, and only his solitude allowed himself to show this as he felt jagged teeth tore through skin, serrated flesh, causing more blood and screams to come from their prey.

    Another foul smelling wolf-thing attached onto the cursed arm, but was easily dealt with as the limb with a mind of its own, went to deal with the other creatures as his mind started to swirl and dart down a drain. Colors faded as did his vision, and finally, would he be allowed rest? And then conciousness fled him like the setting sun into the ocean.

    Those demonic creatures that remained now circled their downed prey with wary looks. They never before had hunted something that could harm them, or take any of them down. But this didn't matter when a wolf edged closer, nipping at the arm that was coated in their fallen brethren's blood. There was no reaction and a howl was let loose. The wolf-things seemed about to dig in when they paused, heads swivling and those dark filled sockets gazed down the path. There was a whine from one, then another, and they started to back away with tails tucked. Forgeting entirely about the second part of their prey, they bolted in the direction their pack-mates had gone with the horse. They would feast on the bones left, and then decide a new alpha after that.

    But first they would flee from what was coming..

    Leaving behind the badly injured prince laying prone on the ground..

  5. #5
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    Hance has the best last name ever.

    I wish I was more awake to review, uh, I liked it? Anyway, yeah I saw a few things that could be reworded but once again I forgot to grab them when I passed them so I am to lazy to reread. Poor Prince, interesting how the curse seems to talk to him. Poor puppies ;;

    hey in both our stories we kill puppies. WE ARE BAD PEOPLE.

    I liked this sentence:
    And then conciousness fled him like the setting sun into the ocean.
    I pictured a sun falling into the sea and going AAAAAAAH *sizzle* but it was also a cool way to describe the scene.
    Nearly eight years ago, I met Yami Ryu on this forum. She was a flamer and angry, but yet we became the best of friends.
    It was in December of 2011 that she found out she had cancer.
    It was January 9th when she passed away.
    A connection I made eight years ago on this forum passed away, alone, unloved by most, her own father probably didn't care.
    I love you, Yami Ryu, you are my best friend and I miss you so freakin much.

  6. #6
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    I love this, I also noticed a few typos, but everything was amazing and very descriptive.

    I hope you make good use of your talent, because you have an intriguing plot line and it is very well written.

    Keep it up, good great work!
    Last edited by Cairen; 9th May 2008 at 11:32 PM.
    ---blank---

  7. #7
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    Ya silly typos are sneaking in there, like you always use to even if too would be better applied in the same spot. Start if the first chapter had a crazy amount of ...'s too, either you're trying to attract Pac Man or Hance's stash of dots got raided.

    The Meh needs a proper name too.... We can't keep calling her Miss Meh can we? Poor horse, she misses her golf punting skills. Red would be an awesome colour for her though.

    The large equine was a mixture of red and brown, with eyes that shone with intelligence beyond what an animal should have. Which would have been noted if the stable hands she was glaring at for daring to touch the mare had done more then curse when she bit them.
    Felt a little confused, still trying to work it out. If you read it it's just worded really wierdly, my sort of wierd.

    Also got a bit of repeation in close quarters to watch for too.


    I also want one of the wolves as a pet They sound lovely. H does sound his usual, hate hate damn parent hate self including obligtory dig at his name. Whenever I ask people they say it with a french accent or something completely different I swear
    .


    Sandra
    Ruler of the Fics.


    I'm pretty busy right now so if you need to get hold of me PLEASE PM. I'll get the email notification a lot faster.

  8. #8
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    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Myuu View Post
    I pictured a sun falling into the sea and going AAAAAAAH *sizzle* but it was also a cool way to describe the scene.
    You need to stay out of the soda if that was your fave scene 8D

    Sandra you double posted haha 8D

    We can't keep calling her Miss Meh can we?
    We can discuss on MSN what'd her name can be then :d


    And well sometimes I think it's pronounced Va-ney/Vay-ney then sometimes Vaith[like vase with a th sound]-nee

    YOU NEVER GIVE ME A PROPER PRONOUNCING >(

    Ooh look a wild new reviewer. I shall catch it D:

  9. #9
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    Damn... o.o I don't think I'll be forgetting the scene with the rats eating the puppies anytime soon, that's for sure. Fwee for gruesomeness. X3

    Another particularly memorable scene: the one with the wolves. That scene kicked ***, and furthermore those wolves were frelling cool creatures. So awesomely creepy. X3

    I will be reading future chapters of this, oh yes... ^^
    DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK
    (Or do. I don't actually mind.)
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  10. #10
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    You're not supposed to like my crap Sike D:

    Warnings: Ghey-dar alert hurdur.


    Anyways the chapter is alot shorter then I wanted it to be :/

    BUT I MAKE UP WITH MORE CONFUSING PLOT ahahahaha

    I hope everyone loves how the chapter ends btw 8D



    Chapter Two
    Darkness Creeps


    Hance allowed himself to let his thoughts wander as his horse covered the distance with a decent trot, or would it be canter.. at anyrate he was going to give the search up as there were no signs anywhere that could tell him where the missing prince had gotten to. That is untill his horse came to an abrupt stop and reared up, nieghing loudly and freaking out it seemed as a swearing Hance fought to bring her down and calm the beast down as he tugged furiously at the steeds riens

    Standing before man and horse, and above what seemed to be a corpse was an abnormaly large wolf- no dog.. no, something that seemed to be both yet neither. The animals shaggy grey fur bristled and it growled loudly, bright green eyes almost glowing. And before Hance was given a chance to question wether he had ever seen a dog bear green eyes, let alone a wolf, the ragged creature whirled and bounded away with unnatural grace. It wasn't untill the beast was gone did his horse fully calm down outside of shifting back and forth uneasily as her eyes rolled slightly. Though Hance would be more hard pressed to admit his uneasiness..

    Shaking it off he dismounted his horse, not really holding out much hold the corpse was anyone alive- but he had seen no blood mark the jaws or paws of the beast..

    With a quick stride he approached the still form and crouched down, rolling the young man over and onto his back. Almost mistaken the form as a woman he snatched his hand back as even if dead, he would never be caught even dead, looking like a pervert. Before Hance realised that it was not a woman before him, but a somewhat sickly looking, and bashed up form of a ma-.. it didn't take a genious to connect the slight crown he now took notice of on the ground, the missing prince, and now said corpse before him, to the same person.

    Swearing under his breath, Hance atleast could see the idiot hadn't killed himself, though there was mysterious bruisings upon the left arm and neck while bandages stained black were unwraveling around the right arm, revealing a somewhat more intact arm, outside of some bruising. His intent gaze also brought one more fact to light. There was a slight shifting of the chest.

    Another swear escaped Hance as he moved a hand to the younger princes' neck, and felt a very, very weak pulse, but it was one none the-less, quickly whistling for his steed, he went to scoop the uncouncious prince up, a bit startled, but not overtly so, lack of real wieght. He's carried limp people before, he knows how they should act. Like a sack of wieghts twice as heavy. This was not right, but he would ponder over it later as the animal wearily came to his call, lowering herself somewhat to allow an easier mounting for her master before he had settled himself onto the saddle, akwardly holding the other prince in one arm as his free hand gripped the riegns and with the slightest of kicks and a tug of the riegns, the horse turned and quickly started back the way they had come.

    The ride back seemed twice as long as the actual search for the missing prince, and Hance was growing weary from all of it, he had been forced to ride for five days with very few breaks to get here. Then he had to search for another four hours or so, and it would take atleast two, to get back. Cursing under his breath would he get no rest?

    Only sparing a glance for a moment or so at the nameless prince in his arms to make sure there was still a breath of life in him, he kicked his horse, not harshly, but enough to get her to put more effort for speed, he knew she was near exaustion too, but she should be able to make it back to the castle in time...

    It was dark by the time the rider and his steed got back to the castle, seemingly ignored by the guards and servants doing their jobs or puttering about on orders from someone higher up than them. The rider almost growled in the back of his throat as he went to dismount, stumbling but able to stay upright and keep a hold of his cargo of sorts.

    “You!” he barked at a passing servant, who gave one look at Hance, or rather who he held before quickly turning around and hurrying off, completely ignoring the look of death Hance shot him. “What the hell is wrong with all these people!”

    ‘They're scared.’

    Hance froze stiff after a second, that thought hadn't come from him ... was he going mad? It was all he needed now, of all times. Muttering a sharp “Bah.” under his breath, he headed quickly to go into the castle, ascending the few steps and entering from where he had left seemingly an eternity ago as he cast his gaze about, looking for someone to help...

    But servants seemed to scatter like rats to a cat, not even staying in sight long before seemingly vanishing, and it only infuriated him even more!

    ‘Diseased.’

    Hance froze again, an unbidden and unwelcome chill going down his spine. Slowly, he glanced over a shoulder, eyes widening before they narrowed to yellowish green slits as he turned around slightly, staring down what had somehow snuck up behind him, its form a bit more distinct now, looking more like a giant cat that was stretched out, silvery white in the dim torchlight and moonlight that filled the hall. It did not advance, but it did not back away either.

    ‘He is marked. He is now mine.’ Hance, heard, again as now the creature started to come towards him with fluid like grace, more so then any cat he had seen in his life. Or any animal for that matter. Not that he had heard an animal speak before.

    But he didn't let this intimidate him for long as he shifted the still unconcious prince, grabbing a sword with his left hand, which was also covered by a thick looking gauntlet, almost as if Hance was prepared for a battle at any moment beforehand.

    The silver-white creature paused momentarily, tilting a head as red eyes shined a moment. ‘Secrets upon secrets... nevertheless, the boy is mine now.’

    Hance almost seemed to hiss as he pointed the sword, “I am not about to let my honor be tarnished by ... whatever the hell you are!”

    There was a dry, raspy chuckle. ‘I bring the dusk, I kill the dawn. I am taken by the moon, forsaken by the sun...’ It almost seemed to sing out as the long tail swished as it stalked closer now, and while he didn't show it, Hance was confused. That was an old children's tale/song, meant to scare bad children into slumber, or being good...

    But it couldn't be real..

    Hance wasn't given a chance to muse for much longer as the creature suddenly lunged, almost seemingly appearing infront of himself, yelling out from surprise, and anger, Hance lashed out, sword flashing from firelight and moonlight, it struck the creature... before seemingly just sweeping through the form, causing no harm.. but the form before him disappeared.

    And it reappeared from when Hance first saw it, at the far end of the hall, sitting down and cleaning a paw, that Hance could see glinted with a dark fluid that could be blood. ‘I will return when the dawns death I bring again, One of the Sun.’ And with those words, of sorts, the silverish white beast shifted, legs and body stretching, squashing, melting and molding, like a candle to a flame. And in the space between a heart beat, there was a white bird of sorts, and then it was gone.

    And just when Hance Vaithne thought this confusing, horrible da- night, couldn't get any worse. It did. There was a racking, hacking coughing fit from the prince he held, and then wet warmth and the stink of blood to his senses. Gacking he glanced quickly to the sorry looking prince, and was startled at the sight of blood now spattered on his shirt and arm, as the coughing fit continued

    Hance was ******, that had been one of his favorite shirts! But the health of one that caused it over-rode his frustration and annoyance as he quickly headed off, and whomever dared try to run from him now would get a swift persuasion to do otherwise.

    - - - -

    It was a dream, like any other dream, the dreamer didn't know that he was dreaming. But it wasn't a land of cakes and sweets, it wasn't a field with a hunt going on. It wasn't a leisurly day of swimming, or even pretending to be some great king. The dreamer found himself in what could have, once upon a time, been a forest. But the trees were long dead, horribly twisted and withered by age and elements. There were also signs of fire damage to the earth and a few of the withered, blackened trees.

    The dreamer should have been scared. But he wasn't.

    He was wary yes, but not scared. Glancing around and taking in the world with light blue eyes, his shoulder length light brown hair, looking more lively then the dark black, grey and burnt brown world he found himself in, made the dreamer appear feminene, even when his actions proved otherwise.

    “What the **** is going on here!?” He snarled, demanding an answer. And an answer is what he got, the earth started to shake, and the dreamer struggled to keep upright as cracks started to appear, on the earth, the trees, even the very air before it split, shards of the dreamers reality sent flying as a swirl of red and black leaked out of the cracks, hissing like a thousand snakes filling the air as this happened.

    The dreamer's eyes went wide, and there was a slight look of terror, before he shook it off, steeling his gaze as the swirling clouds of ebony and blood red seemed to start to take shape. Quickly it grew, higher and higher, four thick but long legs, elegant like a horses, nearly. A barrel like chest as twin sets of wings burst forth from the back, another pair appearing from the serpent like neck that was taking shape, and a final pair- no, spikes started to jut out of the fog, bright white, nearly the color of bone, all along the tail right down to the tip. Silverish spikes appeared on the back, and the neck.

    And the head... A tremor of fear went through the dreamer before he stomped it down. It was like a snakes, but full of teeth and spit, the ... it had no eyes. But the clearly formed head stared right at him as the haze started to lift from the black, red and silver-white creature. Scales of night, wings of blood. That's the striking impression that formed in his mind.

    Outside of those terrible teeth and claws that seemed to scream for his blood.

    “I am not scared of you!” He screamed out nearly, voice threatening to break but he was not going to run away! He had more pride then to scream like a motherless babe!

    There came a horrible, grating laugh as the monster, no, dragon, started to approach with earth shuddering footsteps. The great big tail dragging on the ground, sending trees flying as its feet and limbs casually knocked away and crushed those in its way.

    The time has come. Blood for blood, life for life,” It seethed out with a hiss, maw opening wide as a glint of orangey red glow grew to life at the back of the throat. “Your soul will be mine to feast on,” It confinued, seemingly not needing to speak, to be heard. But then it saw him with no eyes, for he did try to move, to avoid it, but that head followed him relentlessly, the glow growing to an inferno and a ball of imense fire came hurtling at him, so hot it actually seemed to scream from the heat that assaulted the air-

    With a loud gasp and shudder, the prince snapped awake as he quickly sat up, flailing slightly, as if to fend the attack off... and it took some time for him to realise he was in his bed, in his room. In his father's castle. Not in a burnt forest.. not about to die.. But he was distracted from this as he gave a shuddering cough, a nasty, salty, fluid coming up with it that caused him to gag and hack to get it out..

    He stared at his hand a moment once the fit was over, touching the liquid tentively to bring it to view.. ‘Is it not bad enough you drive me mad?’ he thought wearily as he saw the blood, before his body gave out and the prince collapsed once more onto his bed. This time, destined for slightly more peaceful dreams.

    - - - -

    To Hance Vaithne, it felt like he had to order the healers, to keep an eye on the prince, as it seemed they always tried to sneak off. And because of this, there were several more incidents that did not bring Hance any joy. Though providing a visual to the healers that if they even had a thought of abandoning their prince to die, relieved some of his stress for a few hours.

    But it was still an agonizing three days, mostly when Hance had recived word from his father at how.. displeased he would be if his newly made friends son, died, under his own flesh and blood's careful eye.

    Hance didn't notice he had lost his temper a bit, untill he suddenly had freshly squeezed.. something, in his hand. Scowling and muttering darkly under his breath, he threw the now wasted fruit away and went to retrieve another from the stack. This time focusing on cutting slices off and offering them to his faithful mare, pampering her a bit while he had the chance. The horse whickered as she gladly, and greedily, seemed to vaccuum up the slices, barely chewing as she savored the sweet treat.

    And against Hance's determination to not let his mind wander, it did.

    Mostly what he was going to do once he was free of this cursed duty his father had given to him.

    But he wasn't given long to gnaw the bone, so to speak, as he paused slightly, glancing up mid slice of a piece of apple, frowning slightly as he finished cutting it and offered it to the horse, then the rest of the apple, both taken happily by the horse before he moved off. His eyes narrowing at the sight that met him, it was the still nameless prince, as no helping hand would be helping enough to tell him, as if saying his name, let alone this own kingdoms' kings' name was a sin of some sort.

    He didn't need to even act steathily as the prince it seemed was to intent on trying to get a bit of help, or more like threatening some death, stockades and the such and amazingly it got a few men to listen to him and run off to find another horse, given his own gelding was apparently no where to be found... so Hance quiet easily caught the prince by an arm, and started to haul him back to the castle.

    There was an incensed squawk from the nabbed Prince, and a somewhat vain struggle, “What is the meaning of this, let me go at once!” Never before had someone dared touch him so casually. Well.. never before had anyone dared touch or come near him at all on their own will power.

    A gruff ‘No’ was his answer as he was still dragged, albeit a little roughly. The prince made another incensed noise and tugged on his arm, weakly, showing he was still recovering, not like he would admit he still needed rest too, but there was little he could do, and his protesting fell on deaf ears untill once again he found himself in his room, on his bed. Only this time it came with a rough shove to get him onto it.

    “Where the **** are those stupid healers, ” he heard the man snarl, and while he was a bit distracted, the prince went to get up. Or so he thought as another shove sent him tumbling, “Do you actually think you're in any condition to do anything!?” Came the snap at him.

    “What does it matter to you, servant dog!?” He retorted angrily at being ordered around and treated so.

    There came a pregnant pause at this.

    Then came a hissed, ‘What did you just say?’

    The prince shrunk back slightly, but only slightly before he gathered his nerve. The glare he had recived when the nameless man had turned around to give him the dreadful look would have frozen flame, melted stone, or sent the weak of heart to the grave. But not him. Not for long at any rate. “I said,” his voice wavered ever so slightly, “What do you think you are doing. You servant dog.”

    The air in the room seemed to drop to a chilling degree, before, “My name is not, servant dog, I am Prince Hance Vaithne, of the Eastern Kingdom!”

    There was another pause. Then the prince stuck on his bed just seemed confused, before, “..... are you queer?”

    A long stretch of silence followed this before an exclimation of “WHAT!?” escaped Hance, and the other prince just calmly asked, “What, you didn't just propose to me?” His answer came in a few swears even he hadn't learned. “I'll take that as a no,”

    “Of course it's a no! I don't even know your damned name for once, since no one will say, not even your father!” And there was some more snarling and yelling and while the prince became a bit annoyed, he realised this was probably one of those stupid stuns his father concocted and he sighed, waiting untill the storm subsided a little, before; “I apologize for whatever hell my father put you through, Prince Valintine, I am Mostyn-”

    He was interupted as it seems, Hance had quite frankly, had enough for a week. “It's Vaithne. Moss.”

    There was a long, long pause as Mostyn met Hance's gaze, and both narrowed their eyes. “Well, Valentine,” Mostyn started, stressing the slip up he had done. “You have my sincerest apologies about whatever grievance my father has caused.” Mostyn said blithely.

    “The only grievance is that no one is saying my name right, Moss.” Hance all but growled out.

    “Not my fault,” Mostyn replied flippantly in return.

    “I hate you,” Hance seethed with a glare, he had his paitence stretched to the limit.

    Mostyn simply motioned for Hance to come closer after a moment, not wanting to risk being sent for a tumble again. Hance eyed the other prince a moment before coming over, the glare back on his face as he turned seethe mode back on too. But both were quickly sent flying as Mostyn quickly reached up, grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him down a bit..

    And into a kiss.

    Hance reacted quickly, shoving Mostyn away quickly with a snarled “GAH!?!” .... and quickly fled with swears of everyone is insane.

    “WHAT ARE YOU QUEER!? I SAW A BLUSH!” Mostyn called after Hance, before just having a what experession, he hadn't expected Vaithne to react like that- but it got him to shut up. So that was the good side to the problem... absently, and ignoring the fact he had just kissed another man, Mostyn shifted and pulled a note from a pocket in his pants, re-reading the letter and frowned with disapproval... it seemed he couldn't just up and die yet..

    Silently he cursed his father as he tucked the note away.

  11. #11
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    Poor Hance, things he gets put through. Though the nicknames he comes out with Still his pride is important to him even if nobody can say his name right.

    Start was a bit confusing though, had to reread a couple of times to get exactly what the hell happened. But the Vrrrrrrrrm Meh did make me laugh. That and the poof thing never gets old, poor guy.

    I'm curious now though what be on the note, and if Hance's paitence can last out, cus it's already been snapped pretty bad in less than five minutes aha. Doomed.


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    I demand smut.

    Anyway.

    Wrong forum for that.

    I read half this chapter in IM before you posted it lol. I liked it, was nice. Um...

    There was a dry, raspy chuckle. ‘I bring the dusk, I kill the dawn. I am taken by the moon, forsaken by the sun...’ It almost seemed to sing out as the long tail swished as it stalked closer now, and while he didn't show it, Hance was confused. That was an old children's tale/song, meant to scare bad children into slumber, or being good...
    I liked that one? :P

    sorry suckadge. Waiting for chapter two, keep up the good work. Saw less typosness in this.
    Nearly eight years ago, I met Yami Ryu on this forum. She was a flamer and angry, but yet we became the best of friends.
    It was in December of 2011 that she found out she had cancer.
    It was January 9th when she passed away.
    A connection I made eight years ago on this forum passed away, alone, unloved by most, her own father probably didn't care.
    I love you, Yami Ryu, you are my best friend and I miss you so freakin much.

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    I'm curious now though what be on the note,
    The note is everything, and nothing, to the plot.

    You won't know untill I want you too~

    and if Hance's paitence can last out, cus it's already been snapped pretty bad in less than five minutes aha. Doomed.
    Yeah cause you remember how bad it got.

    And Mostyn still has a slight drinking problem.

    'Drinking problem? What problem? I drink, get drunk, fall down! No problem!'

    And Lol @ Myuu.

    Fine I'll stop cping crap to you so you read the whole thing at once?

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    I noticed some typos as well but I won't flood this thread with them unless you'd like me to. :P

    Anyways, I like this so far. Moss and Valentine are both interesting characters and I can't wait to see more of them interacting. And I enjoyed your description, a lot of fics I read either have too much or too little but yours was a nice middle amount. And the bits of humor were nice as well.

    Great job, Yami. You've got yourself another reader.

  15. #15
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    That silverish-white creature was pretty cool, I thought. o.o I love it whenever creatures recite children's songs or anything of the sort, first of all. That's just awesomely creepy, in my opinion. X3 Plus, this creature is apparently a shapeshifter, which I also think is cool.

    Also cool: that dream. o.o I liked it when everything just shattered and then the dragon appeared.
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    Dani: Lol thanks, I try to get the perfect ammount of description as I want the scene set up, but not entirely, so you know it can be up to your imagination how great the kingdom is or whatnot :d

    Sike: Yep, you're not wrong in guessing the creature is a shapeshifter, to give a bit of a hint it's the Reaper, some say death bringer, some say bringer of mercy, some say eater of souls. Working on a fable tale song thinger for it 8D

    And yeah kinda wanted the readers to see how powerful the dragon is. But is it the dragon. Was it all real? Was it a dream or fact?

    But one thing, chapter three is going to take a long time coming, I know what I want, I know what I want to do, but because of my injury, sitting at computer = pain, so I can only do so much before it just gets to much to bear.

  17. #17
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    This..

    This is 15/16 kb of ****. Seriously. This.. is the most confusing **** I have ever wrote and will leave everyone wondering what pain medication I was on, when I wrote this. Or what is still in my system.

    This... even confuses me.

    Chapter Three
    The Coming Flood

    I hate the dark; It hides truths. I hate the light; it shows flaws. I hate the moon, it mocks me. I hate the sun, it shuns me. I hate the forests, they entrap me. I hate the oceans, they drown me. I hate the sky, forbidden to me. I hate the earth, for it is what the forests need.

    I hate the humans, they hunt me. I hate my brothers, they ignore me.

    I hate myself, for hating everything.


    The silver white head glared down into the little puddle, once bright blue eyes were now dim and dull, filled with anger and hatred. Self loathing and spite. Locks of hair that would rival spun moonlight framed the long, fuzzy muzzle, as those eyes continued to glare into the puddle, but it wasn't the water that it was glaring at, a translucent shape appeared before the creature.

    I hate you for the sins of your ancestor.

    A silver shod hoof came crashing down into the puddle, sending the liquid that now seemed to be alive as fire, everywhere.

    With a gasp, Mostyn woke up, shivering slightly.

    He hated that dream, he always hated the dreams and nightmares he got. Confusing and terrifying, they would cause a normal man to go insane. But all it did was make Mostyn sit up, cursing under his breath as a somewhat shakey, sweaty and pale hand reached out onto a small table near his bed, grabbing a bottle of wine from a small plate, completely ignoring the glass that would have been used for a sane serving.

    Growling like some wild animal, he managed to uncork it after a few minutes of hard work before simply chugging down several mouthfuls' of wine from the bottle. Letting out a raspy gasp after swallowing the last gulp, he set the half empty bottle back, knowing he'd regret it in the morning, but Mostyn had needed it, it was the one thing that calmed his nerves...

    And soothed the curse in the back of his mind.

    Grumbling under his breath as a hiccup escaped him, his eyes started to close and Mostyn went to drift back off to sleep.

    Unaware of the bright red eyes in the corner of his room that watched him intently.

    - - - - -

    To say Hance Vaithne was disgruntled, would be an understatement.

    He was a volcano ready to explode, and then some.

    Hance Vaithne, was furious, his eyes almost seemingly turning gold- even if it was a trick of the light, from his fury. Servants and fawning maids alike, wisely stayed out of his way when he went on a warpath at dawns early light, quickly leaving the room he had been given after dressing, wasting little time to get to the stables and get his own horse ready. Even if the hired help hadn't come off as incompitent fools the first day he had been here, Hance would have done this himself.

    For even in a state of rage, he was the only one that the mare would allow to touch her.

    Quickly brushing her back off, then placing the blanket on, he checked both to make sure everything was fine before he got the saddle on and secured it. Pulling himself up onto the seat of leather, he kneed her a little roughly on the side. With a somewhat annoyed whicker the roan broke into a canter in the direction her master bid.

    Both unawares of the still half asleep prince watching from his window, to make sure they were gone before he moved away, tossing a half used roll of silk wrapping onto his bed as his left arm and chest were once more covered in it, a shirt was grabbed and pulled on as he left his room, at a more leisurly pace, ignoring the skittish servants, fearful maids, and all the other staff that had thought they would be safe for the moment.

    As usual, no one stopped him as he barged into the throne room, “Father!” Mostyn all but snarled out as he ignored the slight glares from the few men of his fathers that still had actual backbones. “What is the meaning of this farce!?”

    “What farce, boy? Father is busy-”

    “Busy my ***, you've been conspiring!” And with that he whipped out the letter, glaring at his father, who stared stunned a moment, before bursting into laughter. “You think a forged note can hold water against your old man, boy!?” And he laughed. “The one in trouble is the rat that has been stealing away my wine,” the king hissed out, eyeing his son, “you wouldn't know who was the culprit would you now?”

    Mostyn's answer was a glare as he still held the letter up. His father growled, hefting his bulk up- it wasn't just a belly full of whine he bore, but muscle and bone too. “Now, you will listen to me boy,” and power rippled behind those words. “I am going to manage to get what I want, and you, are going to help m get it.”

    “.. has the curse finally eaten your brain away?” Son snapped at Father, and the king simply stared a moment, as if confused, before he shook it off. “No, my boy, I have finally located... The Star,” And Mostyn's sire grinned, a grin full of madness. On the other hand, Mostyn held a look of confused horror, his father ouldn't be serious.. he couldn't!

    “It's not worth it father!”

    And there was only laughter at his words.

    But what unnerved him more was the sudden stillness in the back of his mind..

    - - - -

    His father had given him a warning. He was to not act, to not say a word, nothing would be told to Vaithne. He would not find out, by accident or otherwise. This annoyed Mostyn to no end, but there was nothing he could do, for the moment. And he was worried by the fact the demon in his mind had stayed silent. The cursed mark upon his form even seemingly going dorment.

    Mostyn did not like this. Not one bit.

    And he wasn't going to stand for it; sure he had been warned. He knew he was being watched. But it wasn't going to stop him .. not for long at any rate. Tho Mostyn hesitated in his plan a moment, ever since the morning, it had felt like someone was watching him. He knew it couldn't be Vaithne or that damned animal of his, and he knew the men, even his fathers advisers would rarely look at him unless it was needed.

    The darkness in the back of his mind stired and distracted him from the unerving feeling of being watched and he turned part of his attention inwardly, watching the darkness to an extent, like one would a dangerous animal that had just awoken before whispering under his breath. The curse would kill him, and as much as he loathed and wished it gone and dead, the dreadful, hateful creation had its uses.

    But it seemed it had its limits, or had moments of not obeying its master. Not that Mostyn really cared as he focused back on the world around him. And the problems he now had. Wasn't it enough he had the curse of a first born. Wasn't it enough he had to keep both idiots, and a curse at bay? Wasn't it bad enough, that Mostyn would never get his desires, and one day would descend into the madness that gripped his father, and his fathers men... if the curse didn't destroy his soul, mind and body in the process.

    First borns never lived long in his family.

    Shaking his thoughts away, Mostyn pushed himself to his feet and away from his bed. He meandered somewhat quickly over to where some of his cleaner clothes lay strewn about and picked up a shirt and tunic. Stripping quickly and ignoring the red and black stained bandages, he pulled the shirt and then tunic onto himself, but he didn't bother with the gloves, they'd probably not come off easy right now at anyrate.

    So focused was he in getting dressed, Mostyn was unaware of the pair of red eyes that formed behind him, for only a second. And then they were gone with the next beat of his heart and absently he felt that feeling of being watched disappear. Not that he would think much of it at anyrate now or in the future for awhile. And once he thought himself somewhat decent, not that Mostyn actually cared about hygiene or looking presentable. He just cared about passing for human atleast part of the time.

    It almost made him forget about being a monster.

    Almost.

    Pointless. Useless. Pathetic. Hissed at him.

    So used to it that he barely batted an eye, as now the curse woke from its sudden, and somewhat unsettling lethargy. So he didn't react, nor say anything; he looked crazy enough he knew. No need to have a riot for talking to unseen forces.

    But the voice kept talking. No guardian here. All alone. Mine to reap.

    Mostyn stilled at the words, almost instantly. Slowly, slowly he turned around. That slight edge of being watched, had returned. But before him, there was nothing. His room was still, not another creature was there-

    A snarl escaped him as suddenly his right arm snapped up and to the right, pain seared his mind as with a feral roar the curse flurished to life, countering, painfully, an attack that had come unseen and would have most certainly killed Mostyn, if it wasn't for the near inhuman speed he was given with this.. ability.

    A writhing, silver-white form fell away, almost as if deflected from just the arm alone, as the blow didn't seem to phase the shapeless, blob of flesh that quivered and shifted. Ears appeared, followed by dark red eyes and a tail twitched as it snaked out from the round object that continued to shift and melt into a shape of something alive. Mostyn knew the smart thing to do would be to run, but that would be cowardly. And smart. Legs started to appear as the creature slowly started to rise, watching Mostyn before hissing slightly, readying for another attack once its body had reformed.

    Mostyn narrowed his eyes slightly, shifting his wieght ever so slightly also as a hand slowly edged for his waist. He held no sword, but there was a short hunting dagger he always carried with him... it would have to be enough, as there was a silent, yet hissed, It is time for the toll.

    Its answer was Mostyn snapping up his dagger in his left hand and with a yell he lunged forward, catching the creature by surprise. Mostyn had been through far to much, in his mind, to be scared of a puddle of shifting whatever it was, or to die to something so easily. He knew he would die to something, and not something so weak looking!

    The creature recovered after a few seconds, just before the dagger embedded itself into its flesh from Mostyn's strike, but no pained yell escaped it as the creature now relentlessly, and silently, went on the attack.

    - - - -

    Hance was still in a bad mood as he finally found a quiet place. Away from crazy princes, milk maids infatuated with him, peasents mad at him, and the ilk like that, and with a strained sigh, he slowly slid off his horse as she whickered slightly when he dismounted. The oblivious to his apparent unhappy mood now, went about grazing happily on the lush grasses of the meadow Hance had found all for himself, and his horse.

    Letting out another somewhat strained sigh, he just dropped to the ground a few feet away from her, uncaring as the blades of grass tickled him, or formed a viel around him, seperating him from the world, leaving the only object to be seen, the sky. And a few clouds, but it was the sky that filled his vision and finally, he was starting to relax, the headache that had been forming started to slowly receed, and Hance let his mind drift slightly as he let his eyes half closed, absently watching a lone cloud appear and scoot across the sky as the wind toyed with the thing.

    Hance also savored the silence as his mind wandered, turning a blind eye to recent events as he continued to bask in his well deserved rest. He had no idea what his father was up to, but given the recent events, that Hance realised, he was thinking about once more, and grumbled slightly, he deduced his father must have had a lapse in sanity, of some form.

    And on that thought he finally dropped everything and focused on watching that cloud now get torn apart by the harsh winds as his eyes slowly slipped closed, and Hance was drawn into the land of dreams..

    Unaware of the fact he was being watched, even as the silver-white beast turned and padded away to silently for anything natural.

    - - - -

    Mostyn was used to pain. To agony. To a never ending fire on his skin, in his flesh, searing his soul, and he had learned to not cry. To not scream. To keep it all bottled up and never let it out, as no one cared. No one ever truely cared, and those foolish enough to care, died for the reason he felt the pain. And those shallow enough to try and offer false friendship or comfort, he pushed away. Even if it was an idiot, his soul was tainted enough by the curse and the deaths he had caused.

    Mostyn was a monster that didn't like to murder unless it was needed.

    But now.. now Mostyn was a monster that was brought to his knees from a whole knew kind of agony, and he wanted to scream, but now was unable to as this thing, this creature. This.. other monster tore into him with apparent glee. Blood stained claws tore at him, raking his chest and dragging flesh and blood away with it.

    His clothes were mostly gone at anyrate from the fight, and wouldn't have offered any protection anyways, as there was another swing, a rake down an arm, sending long gashes downwards into the appendage as blood flew again. And for every swing, Mostyn was barely aware of it, as a silent scream escaped him once more.

    The horrible little **** was laughing, hysterically, as if this was all a wonderful game it had won as it proceeded to continue to rend him with bare claws.

    As Mostyn started to slowly loose conciousness, from shock, the terrible agony and bloodloss, he fell to his knees, eyes growing wide slightly as the shock continued to set in, but doing nothing to numb the pain as his mind grew numb. There was a high pitched and gleefull laughter, so far different from how the creature first sounded, as if it was entirely different now.

    But Mostyn didn't care... His fading mind could barely wish for death to come on swift wings. So far gone, was he unable to remember his curse. And there was a pause, almost as if time itself was frozen, and a horrible shift. A horrible shift that was full of rage and power, a terrible power. One that would bring sane men to their knees and begging for mercy as there was like the sound of rushing water in his ears and a scream..

    And then darkness. A boiling, troubled darkness that battered him and threatened to drown him, but Mostyn didn't care, thinking he was dead and this was his judgement and place for eternity... before he paused slightly, a small tremor of fear slipped past his control. Something was there.

    Soon it hissed at him, with a fading breath that crackled and seemed to turn to dust even as the thing continued to speak to him, full or rage and hatred towards him. And what he was. The time draws. The blood will flow. From your flesh wi- and then it was gone, completely.

  18. #18
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    I still say she musta bitten somebody, I mean she is almost as "I hate you" as the H is regards of what form in both senses...

    Poor him though, he's already getting majorly ****** off and Moss is getting claw nommed. You still have issues with to and too I swear. They're unloved! As are the other silly typos

    Set Grey on me and I set my specialist DG at you :3

    Sandra
    Ruler of the Fics.


    I'm pretty busy right now so if you need to get hold of me PLEASE PM. I'll get the email notification a lot faster.

  19. #19
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    I still say she musta bitten somebody, I mean she is almost as "I hate you" as the H is regards of what form in both senses...

    Poor him though, he's already getting majorly ****** off and Moss is getting claw nommed. You still have issues with to and too I swear. They're unloved! As are the other silly typos

    Set Grey on me and I set my specialist DG at you :3

    Sandra
    Ruler of the Fics.


    I'm pretty busy right now so if you need to get hold of me PLEASE PM. I'll get the email notification a lot faster.

  20. #20
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    Selfish bump- I mean reply.

    look at my siiig I command everyone to loook.

    Yeah poor Valenti- Vaithne. Poor Mostyn too, even with a curse that won't let you die if you want to, you can still bleed out :x

  21. #21
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    I really liked the dream at the beginning, especially with regards to these lines:

    I hate the dark; It hides truths. I hate the light; it shows flaws.
    I also liked the scenes in which Mostyn was attacked, especially at three particular parts: 1.) when those red eyes first appeared behind him (fwee for creepy images ), 2.) when his curse-infested arm countered an attack of its own accord, and 3.) near the end of the chapter, when that creature was tearing the frell out of him (fwee for gory images, too ).

    And fwee for that image in you sig, too, by the way—it's frelling cool. I like the poem underneath it, too. ^^
    DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK
    (Or do. I don't actually mind.)
    The Origin of Storms | Communication

  22. #22
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    >.>

    And now I know the secret to keeping two reviewers. Gore and drama!

    And yeah the dream was the thing I worked on/out the most, ironically it was this chapter I was gonna work on the day I broke my ankle :s so explains why that bit is pwnsome compared to the rest.

    And thanks, took up all allotted lines and all 8D but it's worth it when my readers like it or if it gets new readers :3

    A hint too; the sig holds slight spoilers. But not saying how.

  23. #23
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    IN THIS CHAPTER THE HINTS OF SPOILERS ARE REVEALED. Ok. some are. Some aren't.

    I seriously tried for this to be longer. But then my brain went Nope it's staying at 15kb in size and if you try to makle it longer I will explode on you!.

    So I didn't try.

    What I did try, was to make it seem less rushed. Buuuut when the real drama starts, things should by then, start to get longer.

    Tho funny, it feels longer in notepad then it does on the forums.. so instead of waiting that long, I will try to make chapter five, 30kb in size, which er, lessie 15kb is about um, five pages. So 30kb would be ten, so you'd all be having a better read I bet :x

        Spoiler:- to clear some confusion:


    Chapter Four
    Risen Moon

    The reaper moved with swift and silent feet. The run had been long, but quick for a creature such as it was. Silently and unseen it slipped through the forest, and from there it had moved through the people, who were blind to it and blind to their beasts fear. And from the village it honed in once more, on the castle. The stench of death calling it, beckoning it forward to complete what it must do.

    Quickly bounding up the steps and slipping into a door that was left just barely cracked open, the translucent form didn't even hesitate as it turned slightly, bounding down the great hallway and to more stairs, higher and higher the scent of death came from, nearly the highest room in the tallest tower, but it wasn't really that high, and the creature wouldn't complain even if it was.

    Even if there had been no scent for it to follow once it reached the floor of the room, the blood spilling out from the crack of space between door and stone floor would have been enough of a beacon. It almost creeped and crawled as it started to thicken as it chilled and the air dried it.

    Paying no heed the now solidifying reaper stepped into it as it pushed the door out of its way.

    What happened next, did catch the reaper by surprise.

    A wave of darkness. A pure wave of darkness, that the door had been the only thing keeping it back and it had swelled and ebbed, growing at the only escape. And the Reaper had opened it..

    It tugged, pulled, actually slicing at and causing the reaper pain, but this wasn't enough to cause it to lose it's footing.

    The punch to what should have been its still invisable form, did. A soundless snarl escaped its jaws as confusion fluttered over its eyes, before the reaper was silenced.

    A tendril snapped around a hing leg of the still creature, pulling it backwards, into the room the shrouded form retreated into, there was only the somewhat morbid sound of the creatures flesh as it scraped and slid across the blood soaked ground and farther into the room once the door was closed. Then carelessly tossed away as the erie aura shifted and writhed, snapping and snaking out, darting into and through the form of the first creature that had attacked, ignoring the other fallen one.

    Slowly the shape shifting monstrosity disappeared, as if the shadows had absorbed it into the darkness, but then, it was a corpse and why let that go to waste? But moments after it had finished feeding, it stopped, turned around, staring mutely for a moment before a low growl escaped its throat, no, not a growl. They were words, far heavier and deeper than any human could produce naturally.

    The reaper had recovered, it seemed, and was cleaning itself, looking much like a cat before it caught its cream. It paused though, and glanced to the shrouded form, showing no fear at all. The other has forgotten my words. He is away. Soon I will reap the soul for you, but you must receed, or else all is for naught, my master. The creature dipped its head, in a silent sign of respect as there was a pregnant pause from the shrouded form, before slowly at first, then gradually speeding up, the darkness started to drift back towards the humanoid shape in the center of the evil aura, untill there was just a dark black cut out in the world.

    And it was gone in the blink of an eye.

    In its place, there was left a heavily injured young prince. Blue eyes opened slightly, almost cracking as if they had been sealed for a hundred years. Once bright they were dull and almost lifeless, the orbs stared blankly into a distance covered by stone walls. Blood caked his form, and what skin wasn't hidden by black and red blood, or torn up by cuts, the curse shown with a life all its own. It had spread from one arm, to the next, engulfing both in arm like tattoos. The chest had a torso and tail curled around it as a snake like head smugly nestled in at the crook of the princes neck, while on his back, a pair of blood red and black wings stood out as if burned into him.

    And then it was gone in the blink of an eye as the prince collapsed into a heap, breathing shallow and quickly as his weak heart struggled to stay alive.

    And all this was ignored as the reaper went back to cleaning a paw, uncaring at the sight before him..

    - - - -

    Hance opened his eyes, and yawned slightly, sitting up, he was unaware of the changes of his surroundings, or the fact he was still asleep.. or that he was several years younger. He did stop, and pause, once he noticed something was off, before he shrugged it away and hopped out of bed, forgetting about his worries as one thought suddenly infiltraited his mind.

    Mother! and like all eager children he went to run out of his room, not caring he was still dressed in sleeping clothes. And the only reason he did run back to his room, was to grab up a messily wrapped present he had tried so earnestly to make it look neat and tidy, something to be cherished first, before opening. And he thought he had done a good enough job.

    He was quick on his feet, hair as messy as the wrapped gift in his hands kept getting in the way, but he didn't like it when his mother tried to cut it, she always tried to make him look cute! But he forgave her for this as he quickly made it to her room, only mindful to knock once before darting in, even if it was the crack of dawn almost, she was always awake first.

    But the room Hance found himself in, wasn't his mothers. Infact, there was just darkness, he whirled around once he recovered from his shock. Only to find that the door he had just come through was missing.

    ‘Once upon a time,’ he hears whispered softly, and he glanced around, shouting a “Mother!?” sharply, and quickly went in the way he thought it came from. But it doesn't seem to matter where ever he goes into bravely, the dark never ceases, and the voice never comes closer. But it soon turns out, it's not even talking to him.

    ‘There was a naughty, good for nothing child, that an angry god graced a mother to be with.’

    The once kind sounding voice turned cold and chilly, and Hance knew that was not his mother, mother never spoke like that! .. and he knew the Not-Mother wasn't speaking to him but.. in this darkness, where was it.. what was it speaking to?

    ‘The ugly little child came to be after the mother was tormented for several long, and hard months. Tormented and unloved and uncared for by her husband, her people, even her maids. No one wanted to be near her, because of that ugly little child that came into the dirty world screaming.’

    Hance frowned, the voice was getting meaner.. he knew it wasn't his buisness but, it just wasn't right to say things like that, something told him. And he went about to try and find where the speaker was in the darkness, once more.

    ‘The ugly little child soon became a horrible little monster, unable to feast on the flesh of beasts, it was fed the souls of those that got to close. It even ate the poor mother that tried so hard to care for the horrible little monster that betrayed her so!’ The voice started to get thicker, more gavel like. Soon Hance couldn't make out what it was saying but just that nasty feeling of soul wrenching, mind numbing hate radiating off the creature was nearly enough to get him to think about trying to find the way out.

    When he heard the crying. Not loud, not soft, not false. But a muffled sort that one makes when your body wants to disobey you. This, he could tell where it was coming from. And so cautiously he tred forth in the darkness, blind outside his ears telling him if he wavered to far to one side or turned around in a circle.

    It was in something that could be called a corner, and in what could be call lighter, that he saw the form, crumpled up, looking haggard, and lost. Looking younger than even him. Like a weak puppy that had been thrown to the side of the road after being abused by someone it looked up to. It was such a pathetic sight even Hance let emotion slip onto his face, and he started to advance- but it was like he hit a wall.

    Then everything changed quickly, there was no warning. No sound. Just a blinding flash of light, and Hance found himself back in his room, holding a messy wrapped present, on his floor and hair sticking out everywhere.

    But he wasn't alone, a few feet away, sitting down was a wolf like creature, large and furry, the soft looking snow colored fur covered the animal nearly completely. Even the double pair of wings sweeping out from behind it, tho these had trimming and flashes of a dark ruby red, blazing sun gold and a deep burnt orange. The wolf creature also had markings like this upon its muzzle, and tail, above its eyes and a dash of it on its underbelly.

    Hance could only stare in wonder, and confusion, barely noting that the wolf also supported a long, curled horn upon its head that glinted in what little light that caught it, like a diamond. Dark eyes, a swirl of every shade of green possible, stared into his own tawny hazel eyes.

    Once upon a time. it began, a voice that came not from its muzzle, but seemingly all around Hance, and caused him to go wide eyed before he caught himself. And in a much more loving voice. There were two mothers. One was loving, not caring her husband was a beast, and loved the child that was graced to her womb, with all her life.

    So much so, she gave her life so that her child could live.

    The other move, was not so loving. She loathed the infant given to her own womb, seeing it as a monster that would eat her from inside out. Her hate and malice grew, in turn corrupting her, not the child. And in a selfish act of cowardice, she tried to be rid of the babe. Her plan did not come to fruit.


    The creature paused it seemed, closing its eyes, before continuing, telling this to the awed Hance. A storm is coming young one. Prepare yourself.

    And all Hance could think about, was it had such sad eyes, like mother had the last day he had seen her...

    With a gasp, Hance woke up. His head throbbing madly as swore in what sounded like bad russian and german mixed together, thick in accent too. Quickly he grabbed for his head, trying to stop the mind blowing throbbing, but still it continued. For what seemed like ages, it kept up untill finally, slowly, it faded and left as quickly as it came. Leaving Hance only moments to be confused about the snippets of the confusing dream he had, and he ignored the slight wrench in his heart as he remembered about his mother, though something told him the creature in his dream hadn't meant his mother..

    But he wasn't left much time to ponder this as there was a frightened whiney from his horse. His gaze, of course, snapped towards her to find the cause of her fright and anger, and there he saw them. Eyeless beasts, looking like the dead risen, they stood around his mare, snarling and snapping at her. Teeth and fur stained red from blood, and they stank of the death they looked, it was so overpowering Hance could smell it, and he was a ways away from the spot of trouble.

    Not that he would be for long, cursing again he all but leapt to his feet, forgetting about the dream as he grabbed for his sword while yelling at the be damned creatures to be away from his horse!

    And as he charged into battle, he was unaware as the wind started to blow and howl, as the sky darkened. As the smell of rain hung heavy in the air while those darker than black clouds rolled across the sky, lightning flashing occasionally. The loud crash of thunder in the distance went unheard of as one beast lunged for Hance, and was quickly beheaded in a sickening crunch of flesh, bones and a pained scream before it was silenced.

    - - - -

    The storm was unnaturally swift to cover the sky of the southern kingdom, growing larger and darker as they seemed to radiate around the center of the kingdom, the castle that held the king and heir to the throne. The fearful and wary peasents quickly called in children, called in their pets, locked the cattle in the barns, let the sheep in with the horses, locked all doors and prayed in soft whispers.

    A dark tone was in the air, and all they could do was hope it would disappear.

    But it didn't.

    Infact it got worse.

    From the castle. From the tower; from the room that was locked and barred, there came screaming from Mostyn, he had regained enough of himself and his strength to try and bar himself in. Shut the windows, blocked escape routes, ignoring those mocking red eyes as now that recaptured stamina started to slip past his fingers as the dark shadow slipped over himself, the curse tearing through his beaten body.

    And he screamed. It was long, and painful, filled of agony and sorrow. Mostyn was trying to fight the monster still, not understanding it wasn't to stay alive, but to try and protect those that would sooner see him dead then offer a token of peace. Another scream tore from his throat as his body shifted, and shuddered, he was losing and he knew it. The roar of an ocean flooded over his ears and it felt like he was drowning as his scream was silenced.

    How long had it been since he was attacked? Minutes? Days? Hours? Seconds? Time had no meaning now as he struggled for breath, struggled to stay aloft in the storm that raged around his body and soul. But strong claws, stronger jaws, tore into him. Attaching and not letting go untill they ripped flesh and soul from his form, a blood gurgled scream escaped him as Mostyn was torn inside out now, as the curse raged, having obtained the strength it needed once more from the short rest, and was attempting to make a feast off of Mostyn's soul.

    Mostyn's back arched as another scream escaped him, hands grabbing his head he still tried to hold it together, but it was all for naught as with one final, blood stained cry of agony, he collapsed onto the floor. Blood and shadows seemingly swirling around him as his form stilled. Seconds ticked by quickly as wounds started to visably heal. And yet with the healing, changes started to happen.. but very slight things, such as hair length, color and small things, like that...

    And all because of the new owner of the body..

    After what could have been an hour, the former prince shifted, a hand moved slightly then it's fellow. Moving underneath the near nude form and pushed him upwards as he found his legs and then balance. The hair once light brown was now long, extremely long. And it was no longer a light golden brown, the colors had been bleached it looked like, for the hair was now a stark white. As white as the moon; once blue eyes were now black. The fingernails almost looked like ebony colored claws, and there had been a few inches of growth.

    “Finally,” the changed form hissed, sounding more like a snake then a man. “My revenge is at hand!” And a short barking laugh escaped him, untill he paused, wincing in pain and snarled after it passed. “I will finish eating your soul!” he roared, and it seemed he hadn't completely destroyed Mostyn, and was about to do so, when there was a soft sound behind him.

    Master.. if you do that, the body will be lost to you.

    This caused a swift halt of movement and actions from the former Mostyn and he growled slightly, “I will be glad to get my body back,” he hissed under his breath after a moment. But this boiling anger returned quickly as the form tensed and whirled around quickly, a bolt of something thrown from the hand and striking the window. It was like an explosion went off, no, a reverse. Instead of scattering it was like they were all sucked quickly into something, like water down a pipe.

    “You! You can do nothing now! Begon!” He yelled out at a retreating white and red form. The creature, which by all appearences really looked like a bird, quickly fled; flapping its small but mighty wings quickly. Soon retreating from sight as nothing more then a speck that could barely be seen, in the distance.

    Growling under his breath the body snatcher of sorts glanced down at the form he had obtained, and growled again, he didn't want to go through the work of shifting but it would have to be done, for now a ruse must be used. He had plans, and an oh so little letter and ideas from the foolish humans, danced about idly in his head, begging to be used..

    Quickly the imposter got dressed, not careful about it, and actually quiet messy. But he didn't care about appearing as a well kept human of power. All he could think about, with a near sadistic grin full of sharp teeth, was one person.

    ‘Vaithne of the East, it will be so good to see you. Again.’

    And on that thought, what appeared to be a poorly kept Mostyn Dahrk, prince of the South, left his room. But no one would care or notice a difference in the prince, the body snatcher knew that.. All it had to do was wait for that one person, and then everything else would be ripe for the taking.
    Last edited by Yami Ryu; 3rd July 2008 at 12:43 PM.

  24. #24
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    I thought that the opening scene was pretty cool—I liked the creepy air that it had about it. o.o I also liked the personality that that reaper was showing, sitting there and grooming itself like a cat, completely without a care. X3

    Hance’s dream was nice and creepy too, I thought, so I enjoyed that as well. ^^

    And I also enjoyed the goriness of Mostyn’s scene near the end. X3

    Other highlights:

    Even if there had been no scent for it to follow once it reached the floor of the room, the blood spilling out from the crack of space between door and stone floor would have been enough of a beacon. It almost creeped and crawled as it started to thicken as it chilled and the air dried it.
    Nice. X3 I like that choice of words and also that imagery.

    ‘The ugly little child came to be after the mother was tormented for several long, and hard months. Tormented and unloved and uncared for by her husband, her people, even her maids. No one wanted to be near her, because of that ugly little child that came into the dirty world screaming.’
    I liked the choice of words there, too. ^^ I always find it interesting, the way it’s possible to say such an ugly, hateful thing as what’s being said there in a way that sounds pleasing—it’s kind of like when there’s a song with really dark or sick lyrics that happens to also have a pretty melody. I pretty much always enjoy that kind of thing. X3
    Last edited by Sike Saner; 16th July 2008 at 11:59 PM.
    DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK
    (Or do. I don't actually mind.)
    The Origin of Storms | Communication

  25. #25

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    Sorry for not replying sooner. I liked both chapters but these stood out for me:

    I hate the dark; It hides truths. I hate the light; it shows flaws. I hate the moon, it mocks me. I hate the sun, it shuns me. I hate the forests, they entrap me. I hate the oceans, they drown me. I hate the sky, forbidden to me. I hate the earth, for it is what the forests need.

    I hate the humans, they hunt me. I hate my brothers, they ignore me.

    I hate myself, for hating everything.
    The roar of an ocean flooded over his ears and it felt like he was drowning as his scream was silenced.

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