Here are the submissions I received. As a general reminder, I have only included forum names if given permission by the author to do so - otherwise, these stories remain anonymous. Feel free to post reviews for these stories in the general conversation thread. Try to provide some helpful critiques and suggestions, and mention anything you liked. 

Winners will be declared on January 31, and any applicable Challenge Accolades will also be awarded then. All winning entries will be saved in the Twelve Labours Archive with a permanent link in my signature, as well as mentioned in a report in the News section and General Discussion subforums. Once again, thanks to [@mdk] and the rest of the RPGC crew for helping to schedule The Twelve Labours. Another special thanks to [@mahz] for cranking out the awesome trophy and titles system.

Once the results come around, ff you did not win but feel you should have? Make an appeal to the judge who reviewed your entry. Keep it classy, and exercise some courtesy while making your case, and they might just reevaluate your entry. Please keep in mind, you only get the one appeal. Sometimes you just have to let it go.

If you submitted an entry before the deadline, and did not break any of the rules or conditions of the contest, then there is no reason it should not be here - so if it is not, shout at me until I add it in.

The Stories:
[hider=Blink]By [@God].

A pair of murky blue eyes blinked behind silver-framed spectacles. The tech pad on the metal table below her reflected in her lenses as Ana leaned forward in studious concentration. Her asymmetrical bob slid out from behind her ears. The dyed-white hair covered the sides of her heavily freckled face. 

Someone upended a globby bowl of oatmeal over her tech pad and she jerked back in surprise. 

“Hey Four-eyes,” said a large boy who had shown up across the table from her. How long had Sloth been standing there, Ana wondered? 

Her eyes lowered back to her tech pad, and she slowly tilted it, letting the goo slide off the screen. She then used a napkin to smear off the rest. She was used to Sloth’s teasing. Composure was key. She could always get him back in the sims if she really wanted to.

Sloth was a jerk. She’d watched him bully plenty of people. He wasn’t flirting with her, because he wasn’t attracted to her. She wasn’t attractive. Sloth made sure she knew that. “Too bad you’re not hot like your avatar,” he had said to her on more than one occasion. Too bad she wasn’t truly brave like her avatar, she’d think.

“Roman gladiators today,” Sloth said.

“Oh?” Ana said, trying not to lift her gaze to her taunter. He had squinty eyes, and a wide, incongruous smile. He was slow and lazy, which was strange, because he made such a good fighter in the sims. Word was that his father was a member of a particularly brutal gang called “The Carvers.” No doubt Sloth had learned how to be an asshole from him.

“Yeah. Hairy guys with crude weapons. That your type?” Ana could feel her dreaded flush beginning to creep up her neck. It spread over her face quickly, turning her tan skin a deep maroon, making her freckles stand out all the more. It was too easy to get an emotional response out of her, but she didn’t fight outside of the sims. She didn’t believe that real violence was the answer, and she knew that Sloth was only the way he was because of his dad. 

“See you in there,” Ana mumbled, getting up with her sticky tech pad. 

“They’re gonna make mincemeat of you, baby. Sure you don’t want to team up?” he called after her, but she ignored him as she went to the sim room. “Damn, but I love to watch her walk away!” he said.

Ana knew she was being ogled as she left, and it made her uneasy, which was probably why he bothered to do it. She dressed specifically to avoid that kind of attention, in a brown cargo-pocketed jacket that stretched down past her hips, baggy enough to hide her curvy body. 

Ana found an empty stall in the sim room. Around her, people were hooked up with cables that went into the ceiling and floors around them. These cables limited their movement to a square of shape-shifting ground beneath them. The better sim centers had high-quality ground that could change to water or rocky outcrops, but this was just a basic treadmill set-up with shoddy terrain simulation.

Ana disconnected her oatmeal-crusted sim card from the tech pad and pushed it into the appropriate slot in the barrier just outside the cable range. There was a small locker beneath the card receptacle where she put her coat and tech pad. She then outfitted her feet in the many-censored cloth covers with their adjustable straps. There were similar fingerless gloves which dangled from the ceiling, and a pair of visor-goggles, which she fit over her glasses. A strap went around her belly with bungee cords forming a X into the ceiling and floor at the far corner of her stall. This harness could simulate anti-gravity, falling, flying, and forceful body movement, such as being blown off of the ground. 

She closed her eyes while the game booted her in, and Analyze’s blinked to life.

Analyze looked similar to Ana. She hadn’t gone overboard the way that a lot of people did. She had certainly succumbed to vanity, though. She had designed her avatar to look like a sweet femme fatale. She had bleached her freckles out, paled her eyes into moon-blue rings, and drawn on sexy eyeliner and false eyelashes that made her eyes look diamond-shaped. She had even enhanced the plump lips that embarrassed her in real life, by painting them a shocking fuchsia color. Her silver bob was tinged a pale orchid pink. Her vibrant lips stood out in her tanned face. It looked as if an eraser had been taken to her cheeks, scrubbing out her unique freckles, leaving behind someone more perfect. She wore a tight maroon jacket over leather pants and knee-high laced boots, showing off her body beneath these form fitting clothes. Life was a little better in the sims; she could be the ballsy person she wanted to be there.

Analyze spawned with her regular weapons: a black glock strapped to the outside of her right thigh, and a long staff, as tall as her, and topped with a wicked curved blade. The titanium rod was hollow, light, and slightly flexible, but very resilient.

As she looked around, she saw that she was standing in a dock that opened out into a huge, dusty arena. A film shivered over the opening of her docking bay. She wouldn’t be in gameplay until she stepped through it. She waited, watching her fellow sim fighters battling generated players - gladiators, as Sloth had told her. Not all Roman though. They were slaves captured by the Roman empire, and the game was accurate enough to portray this. Blondes, redheads, a range of skin shades…but yes, all of them were hairy men. Ana didn’t care. They were just gens, regardless of realistic they looked. Ana wasn’t Ana anymore. She was Analyze. 

She shifted her staff in her hand eagerly, but paused before leaving her bay. She could see Sloth, who had appeared in a dock near hers. He shuffled through his film without hesitating. She could recognize the boy beneath the animal, just barely. His avatar was an anthropomorphic three-toed sloth, hulking and slump-shouldered and slow, like he was. His small eyes swept the area quickly. His gaze snagged on someone injured nearby, a fellow sim, even though they were supposed to target the gladiators at this point. Sloth never passed up an easy kill. He lumbered over to the bleeder. 

“Aw, Sloth, c’mon, man—” the sim began to argue, but his voice quickly choked off into screams as Sloth leaned over on him, carving his claws languorously through too-realistic flesh. Analyze made a face. If Sloth wanted the kill credit, why didn’t he just dispatch the guy right away? Sloth enjoyed the game a little too much. The pain was all too real. As was the way people reacted to inflicting it. 

The screams faded as Sloth grinned, showing too-many teeth and an almost cuddly adorableness. He was putting his victim to sleep now. Get too close to that strange smile, and you’d start to feel your knees get weak, your mind fog over, all while Sloth maintained his impressively slow self-control. Analyze looked away while he bent down and bit open the sim’s jugular. The sim spluttered out of existence a moment later, and Sloth looked up at Analyze, starting to give her a blood-glossed smile. 

Ana thanked the sim gods for her speed, and she passed out of her dock to edge around the arena, staff at the ready. She put a quarter of the arena between her and Sloth. She probably wouldn’t ever have to face him. The gens usually wiped out all of the sims, and if you were lucky enough to hang on until the end, you faced the big opponent by yourself. 


The towering man who soon found himself at the end of her spear was hardly a challenge at this point. Glad that the gens couldn’t feel pain the way that sims could, Analyze swept her blade out, plunging it into the gladiator’s torso. 


About an hour’s worth of fighting later, the ground beneath her boots was still pristine, despite the probably hundreds of sims and gens that had been slaughtered on it. No one needed to pause the games to come out and rake the sand, as fighters vanished without a trace upon termination. 

There weren’t many gens left now, and even fewer sims. But the gens she faced were also increasing in difficulty. She’d taken some heavy injuries, and was currently stumbling back, trying to stay out of the swinging arc of her opponent’s ax. Behind her was a dock, which, if entered, would eject her from the game. Ana wasn’t ready to quit, so she held herself away from this barrier, trying not to get edged through it. Blood was seeping out of a wound on her shoulder, beneath her hand, and the shakes had her pretty good. The staff in her other hand was slick and trembling. Her opponent was about to deal the final strike, and Ana knew she couldn’t defend herself without falling into the dock. She stood there to take it, rather than step back and spare herself the unpleasant experience of dying. Her eyes closed, but the blow didn’t come.

“They sure get the smell of sweat right, don’t they?” Sloth said.

Analyze’s eyes flew open. Sloth was standing beside her gladiator, one clawed hand wrapped around the man’s throat. Sloth grinned into the guy’s face, and the gladiator began to sink under the impression of sleep. 

Damn. She would have preferred not to die at Sloth’s claws. That dock escape was starting to look like a good option. 

“Hang on a sec,” Sloth said, his unbelievably fast eyes noticing her heels edging back for the dock. Without wasting time clawing the guy up, Sloth put his pointed face against the man’s skin and tore his throat out. 

“Ugh. I mean, they taste like they haven’t bathed in weeks. Pagan scum. The Romans really should conquer you guys. Aqueducts and shit. [i]I’d[/i] convert.” Sloth spat blood out on the sand, where it disappeared moments later. He then took his time looking up Analyze’s legs to her bleeding shoulder, her jolting face.

“Shit, look at you. You even managed to mess up how hot your avatar is. Come here.” Analyze started to step back, but it was already too late. His broad grin was freezing her in place. Calm flooded through her synapsis against her will. [i]“No, dammit, fight!”[/i] She told herself, but it was useless. Panic did nothing. She watched his hand scoop behind her neck as he pulled her away from the dock. Her body slumped, and he leaned down with her, laying her gently on the sand. At least her shaking had stopped, she noticed. 

“Hang on, hang on,” he said, and hocked a loogie into his palm, spreading it across her shoulder. Analyze managed to feel confusion despite the mind-numbing relaxation.

“Magical sloth spit. It can heal stuff. See? The enchanted moths that live in my fur, in the algae, give me that power. I’m a complicated guy. There’s stuff you don’t know about me. I’m really a nice person beneath a tortured exterior, or whatever.”

Ana doubted that very much, even as she felt the wound in her shoulder knit. Sloth stopped smiling, and alertness slowly returned to Analyze. She waited there, not wanting to tip her hand too soon. Sloth could see keenness flood her turquoise eyes, and noticed her fingertips twitching on her staff. 

“Really? You’re gonna try to kill me, after I save your fake life? I thought you were a good person or some shit. That’s what everyone says.”

“What else would you suggest?” Analyze asked dryly.

“We team up. There’s only a few gens left before the final baddie. I’ve made you useful again. Help me cut the slaves down, we share the win.”

Analyze didn’t really have much of a choice while she was lying below him like this. Besides, he had just healed her. With his magical sloth spit. Sims could be trippy places. Wondering if she was still influenced by the residue of his sleeping spell, she watched a moth flutter away from the coarse beige fur on the top of his head. 

“You know you want to.” Sloth started to smile and then clapped a paw over his mouth. “Whoops. No smiling.” 

Analyze laughed despite herself. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. Maybe he was telling the truth, and he was just a normal guy who had been through hell. Whether he deserved it or not, she should give him a chance. “Yeah, okay, we can try it.” 

“Good. Try not to get slaughtered again. And why haven’t you used your gun on these stone-age wieners?” 

“Seemed unfair,” Analyze said as she sat up and surveyed what was left of the fight.

“Right, your sense of honor. Let’s kick some ass, oh moral one.”


Analyze continued to use her staff, now that her shoulder was mended. Surprisingly, fighting with Sloth was kind of fun. He refrained from getting too torture happy, which was nice. When he made for another sim girl at some point, Analyze yelled at him not to. Sloth looked aggrieved, but complied. The sim fighter was soon cleaved by one of the remaining gens, anyway. That avatar had sustained too many injuries by this point. Could Sloth heal his own wounds, Ana wondered? He didn’t have a scratch on him. What kind of money…or cheating…would such a modification require?

Before they knew it, all their opponents were gone. Analyze couldn’t help giving Sloth a big smile. “We did it. Just the one left, right?”

“Yeah,” Sloth said with a smirk as he looked away. 

A little boy had appeared in the center of the arena, dressed in tatters. He had been blinded, but he was sure-footed anyway, skirting toward the edges of the arena. 

“I wouldn’t try to get in range with your staff,” Sloth said. “I’ve heard about this gen-brat. He’s mad fast.”

“And he can’t see your smile,” Analyze said.

“Sad that he should be deprived that joy,” Sloth said. 

“It’s his best defense!” Analyze said. “You’re like Medusa!” 

“Yeah either blind yourself or ally with me. Which seems the smarter option, Four-eyes?” 

The boy was nearing them, pulling out some type of blow-dart gun from the folds of his rags.

“How does he know where we are?” Analyze asked, bewildered.

“Maybe shut up and shoot him?” Sloth said, moving towards her. She interpreted this as an act of solidarity. He should have been silently Marco Polo-ing his way out of here. 

Analyze dropped her staff so that she could pull out her gun and cock it, hesitating a second before their opponent brought the dart gun up to his lips, aiming at her with uncanny precision. She unloaded two bullets into the boy’s chest before he fell. 

“We won,” Analyze said bitterly, and turned to look into the full force of Sloth’s smile.

“No, I did,” he said. Analyze was immobilized as he wrapped one meaty arm behind her upper back, holding her upright as her body started to relax. Her eyes looked at him with the width of betrayal. Instead of biting her neck, she felt the claws on his other arm piercing her chest, above her heart. Analyze’s lips parted in wordless pain, but she couldn’t get any sound out as he closed his fist around the vital organ. 

Ana’s limp body jerked back to life in her sim harness. Released from the thrall of the sleep-spell, she was able to gasp and claw at her undamaged chest. She roughly disentangled herself from all the hook-ups and then backed up. Her hands rubbed over the tee-shirt on her chest, feeling her heart pounding beneath unbroken skin. 

She heard a familiar chuckle, and looked up into one of Sloth’s triumphant, cruel smiles. 

Ana stared back at him without blinking. It didn’t affect her at all anymore.[/hider][hider=The Alchemist]The city of Arnheim was as busy as usual, the capital city of the country was a favoured trading location for merchants far and wide. The products being offered were as divers as the people offering them. Aside from the local merchants, there were a couple of people from a southern country across the sea, with a skin as dark as the night. They offered their valuables with a heavy accent. Creatures with faces and limbs just like humans, but completely covered in short, colourful feathers came from the far east of the continent. Their woodcraft skills were legendary even in these parts and selling or trading their items seemed to go smoothly. Stern looking humans with a greyish skin had travelled across the sea with their wares in the hopes of selling them. Money and goods transferred from owner to owner, but not always through righteous means. Thieves were always on the lookout for easy targets and therefore easy money. During market days, like this day, it was easy to ‘accidentally’ bump into someone and quickly take something from them while muttering an excuse if the target would turn around to see who had bumped into him. A tactic one man was in the middle of performing when he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned around he looked in the face of a female knight. Even though she wore a tunic in the colours of this country, the dark-blue eyes and light-blonde hair, which was cut at ear-length, gave away she or at least her family originated from a country up north. 

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“Rachel Heartwood, one of the King’s Knights,” she answered curtly, with an accent that confirmed what her appearance indicated. “Return his purse,” she commanded as she narrowed her eyes.

“What purse?” the man spat.

“The one you just cut from his belt.”

“I didn’t-” the man began to defend himself, but Rachel took his arm in a firm grip and followed the targeted man. Judging by the velvet clothes this man dressed in, he was one of wealth and therefore a desired target for thieves. When she caught up with him, she tapped on his shoulder and the man turned around.

“Sir, are you missing your purse?” she asked him.

The man in velvet clothes looked surprised at her before glancing down at his belt where two small pieces of leather strings with clean cuts were hanging idly down the belt. “M-my purse!” he said. “Where is-“

Rachel tapped on the clothes of the man she held until she heard the unmistakeable sound of coins hitting each other. She dug up a velvet purse with gold embroidery. The leather string tied around the top had two loose end with clean cuts and in the same colour as the strings on the belt.

“That is my purse!” the man in velvet clothes exclaimed as he pointed at the other man. “Thief! You filthy-”

“I’ll take care of it, sir,” Rachel promised before the man could begin his tirade and she handed the purse to him. As soon as the weight of the purse lifted from her hand, she turned around and swiftly pulled the arm of the thief up behind his back, grabbed his second arm too and walked away with him. The thief squirmed and tried to break free from her grip while uttering curses to her and her family, but she held him in a firm grip and walked with him to the sheriffs office. There he would remain in custody until someone had time to deal with him. 

When she emerged from the office again she looked around. It was a shame people turned to such schemes in order to make money. If there was one type of people she couldn’t stand, it were thieves. Low, dishonest people stealing from honest, hardworking people. At least this one was off the streets now and undoubtedly would get what he deserved. And with this out of the way, she could return to her initial investigation. The alchemist she was after had been spotted in this city, but she hadn’t been able to track him down. She only had a couple of days left to find him and free the two young women he held in captivity, she knew he was going to use them in some kind of ritual which would happen in the night of the blue moon. 

A gentle tune reached her ears and she turned her head to see where it was coming from. She noticed a man playing a lute and singing a song for a small group of people. A travelling bard, judging by the simple and somewhat worn-down clothes. For a moment she observed him as she listened to a song about a beautiful princess of the north who placed a bright star in the sky to guide her lover towards her. She walked forward and put some coins in the cup on the ground, she felt it was the least she could do. When she looked up her eyes met with the friendly light-brown eyes of the bard who nodded a thank you. She nodded back once and left the scene. She had respect for people trying to earn an honest coin through their skills and if she could she would spare some coins as appreciation for their talent and to help them get through the next day. 

“Rachel!”

The familiar voice made Rachel stop and turn. She looked at the owner of the voice, a woman just a couple of years older than she was. The long, blonde hair fell gracefully over the shoulders and the skin was as pale as her own. For a moment she didn’t speak, but when she finally said something her voice had a cold undertone in it. “Kasandra,” she greeted the woman, “what brings you here?” 

“I want to help you!” Kasandra exclaimed cheerfully. “Like big sisters do.”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, even if Kasandra was her big sister, she didn’t trust her. Not just because Kasandra didn’t mind to tell a lie or two, but she had chosen a career as thief. They walked on opposite sides of the law, but thus far Rachel was unable to bring her sister to justice, either due to lack of evidence or because of a well-performed escape trick by Kasandra.

“I don’t need your help,” Rachel stated curtly and was about to turn around.

“I know where the alchemist hides,” Kasandra stated. “And I know you’ve been looking for him to free those people he abducted for his experiments.”

Rachel turned back to her sister. “Why would you help me with that?”

“Because that’s what big sisters do, silly,” Kasandra said as she walked closer. “You’re running out of time and I want to help you. I can take you there and you can take down the alchemist, or free those people, or both!” She looked expectantly at Rachel, but didn’t get a reaction of any kind.

The silence between them lingered for a few moments as Rachel contemplated the words. A part of her wasn’t ready to trust her, but it was true the new moon would be there in a few days and those people had to be freed by then. Could she trust her sister with this or was there a catch? There had to be a catch, she knew Kasandra wouldn’t do this out of the goodness of her heart. She could decline the help, she knew she could just turn around and leave, but could she really take the risk? There was of course the chance Kasandra was truthful for a change, maybe she really did want to help? “Fine,” Rachel said eventually. “Tell me where he is.”

“I will show you and I will help you,” Kasandra promised as she smiled warmly at Rachel. “This way.”

Together the Heartwood sisters walked down the street, but they did not speak to each other. Ever since Rachel joined the King’s Knights, she hadn’t talked much with Kasandra. While she had never approved of her sister’s career, it wasn’t until Kasandra had stolen jewellery from the princess they stood on opposing sides for the first time. Occasionally they had run into each other after that, but only when there was a crime involved which she investigated and Kasandra had committed. 

After leaving the busy main street, Kasandra lead Rachel towards the wealthy part of the city. The paved street was broad enough for two carriages and workers kept it clean throughout the day. Every house was an architectural masterpiece and lay behind a wall with a sturdy and often heavily decorated gate. Guards patrolled the streets day and night and several servants walked around, going from or to an assignment. While some nobles strolled over the street to catch up or gossip with neighbours, most kept to their own place unless they needed to be somewhere.

In the middle of the street Kasandra stopped and pointed to a mansion behind an ornate iron gate. “That’s where he stays,” she told Rachel.

“That’s the house of lady Trialca...” Rachel muttered. While she didn’t know the lady in person, she hadn’t heard much good about her. Still, none of the stories gave away the lady would be willing to participate in human sacrifice.

Kasandra giggled as she grabbed her hair and tied the long strands together with a leather band. “Whatever the alchemist promised her in exchange for a hiding place, she’s not going to get it.” Her hands moved over her clothes to check if everything was she needed was present and turned to Rachel. “What do you think he promised her? Gold? Eternal youth? Probably the second, right?”

Rachel looked at her sister for a moment, this moment had a familiarity to it she hadn’t felt in a while. Why Kasandra was able to talk to her as if nothing had happened between them was a mystery to her, but it was nice to talk like sisters for a moment. “I’d say the eternal youth,” Rachel agreed. “That is appealing to many young women and this family is already one of the wealthiest in the city.” She turned her attention back to the mansion. “I  doubt the lady would let us meet with the alchemist,” she sighed. “I don’t know how...”

“Easy, just say you want to talk to lady Trialca about her missing bracelet.”

“How do you know,” Rachel began when she noticed the grin her sister gave. “You stole it,” she sighed. 

“Look at it from the bright side,” Kasandra replied cheerfully. “I’ve been inside before and I know where we have to be.”

The idea seemed to work, after ringing the bell a servant came to the door. Upon explaining the reason for their visit, they were allowed access to the house. The servant brought them to a waiting room. The room was equipped with some of the finest furniture, to show the wealth of the family to the waiting guests. The servant promised he would get lady Trialca and left.

A few moments later Kasandra opened the door to see if the servant was out of sight. She smirked when she saw the empty hallway. “This way,” she whispered as she beckoned Rachel to follow her. They silently walked over the thick red carpet covering the floor so they wouldn’t draw the attention from any of the servant or the noble family themselves. There were several statues and painting in the hallway, but Rachel hardly looked at them. All she wanted was to bring the alchemist to justice and free his captives. 

Kasandra opened a door which lead deeper in the mansion and pointed to another door which had a few symbols carved into it. “That is where we have to be,” she whispered. “That is the alchemists room.”

Rachel nodded and walked over to the door. After she opened it and carefully peeked inside to see if it was safe, she walked inside she looked around. Aside from some expensive looking furniture and a door on the other side, she couldn’t see much out of the ordinary. 

As Rachel went towards the other door, Kasandra went to a mahogany cabinet and opened the drawers. That sound caught Rachel’s attention and she walked back, but Kasandra didn’t pay any attention to her. When she found a locked drawer she bend down and started picked it. 

“Let’s go,” Rachel whispered.

“Hush,” Kasandra whispered back. It didn’t take her long to unlock the drawer and when she opened it her eyes lit up. She carefully took a smooth golden sphere from it. “There it is,” she whispered. “The alchemist’s stone. This is what I was after.” She smiled sweetly at Rachel. “I knew they would let you in, being a knight and all that. This place is not easy to break in to, you know.”

“Put that sphere back,” Rachel whispered. “We came here to free those people.”

“You did, I didn’t.” Kasandra winked as she stepped back. “Thanks for your help, sis, I couldn’t have done it without you, but you’re on your own. I don’t want to mess with the alchemist.”

“I knew I couldn’t trust you,” Rachel hissed. “At least tell me where they are.”

“I don’t know, okay?” Kasandra said in a hushed voice, “I only know the alchemist is here and that he brought his stone.” She turned around to leave, looking at the large piece of gold which was hers now. With the golden distraction in her hand, she noticed a tall vase too late and knocked it over. Almost immediately after it loudly shattered into small pieces the door on the other side opened and a tall man with short, black hair emerged. Rachel recognized him instantly, it was the alchemist. 

“My stone,” he grumbled, when he noticed it in Kasandra’s hand. “Hector, fetch.”

A creature with the body of a mountain cat and two heads, one of a fox and one of a wolf, emerged from the room and growled ominously. 

“Run!” Kasandra said as she darted off. Rachel didn’t waste a moment and quickly followed her. The creature took off and followed the two intruders, but due to its speed and size it ran into the wall of the hallway and it shook its heads, before going after the two intruders again. The Heartwood sisters ran through the mansion with the creature closing in on them. Kasandra opened the door leading into the kitchen and Rachel closed it behind her. A loud thud of something heavy colliding with the door came mere seconds later, that was how close the creature had gotten. They ran through the kitchen where the startled kitchen staff didn’t know how to react, and left the house. The creature had opened the door by now and continued it’s pursuit through the kitchen and into the garden. When it caught up with Rachel, the fox head bit down in her arm and she screamed, but she took her knife with her free hand and lashed out, making a cut in the creature’s flesh. The fox-head whined and released her arm. Kasandra was half-way through the garden and went straight for the brick wall at the end. The creature sped up to catch her, as she was the one carrying the treasure of the master, and jumped up. The paws hit her back and she fell down, but before either head could bite, Kasandra smacked the heavy golden sphere against one head, which smacked into the other. The dazed creature shook both heads and Kasandra quickly got up again. Rachel took advantage of the moment too and followed her sister to the wall. After Kasandra agilely got on the wall she waited for Rachel. She helped her up and once her sister was sitting next to her, she winked once and jumped down. 

“Kasandra!” Rachel called after her.

“Until next time!” Kasandra called back. 

Rachel came down from the wall too and looked at her arm. Behind her she heard two different barks, the creature obviously stood on the other side of the wall. She quickly walked away through the small streets and alleys until she reached the main street of Arnheim again. She held her injured arm and glared at anyone who looked a bit too long at her, this could have gone worse than it had, but she was disappointed with how it had gone and angry at herself for allowing this to fail so miserably. She reminded herself that at least she knew where the alchemist was, but it was a shallow comfort. She needed a new plan, especially with that freak creature at his side. Maybe one of her fellow knights could help her, none of them would betray her like her sister had. She scowled when she thought about that, once again Kasandra had proven she couldn’t be trusted and she got away with this theft too. The worst part of it was that Kasandra used her in her scheme this time and it got them in serious danger. One day she would make sure Kasandra would get what she deserved and proof that in the long run a life of crime doesn’t pay off. [/hider][hider=Sapphire's Story][h2] [color=0054a6]Sapphire's Story[/color] [/h2]

  It was a warm summer day when Sapphire decided to take the journey. She had been washing up in the stream by her house when she thought she heard her father calling for her.
  "Coming, dad!" she shouted, and quickly hopped out of the warm running water and into the summer air. It felt cool on her skin. She wrapped herself up with a cloak to cover herself as she walked barefoot up the trail to her home. It was a small house, more like a shack, with shanty shingles hanging off the edges. The roof leaked sometimes, but her father couldn't fix it anymore in his old age. He used to be a mighty huntsman. She remembered when she was but a little girl lost in the woods, and he found her, bringing her here to this cabin that he had built himself. He had been a strong, tall warrior back then, with thick black hair and a beard to match. Now his hair was greying, and after all the years of not working, his hands and the rest of his body became weak. You see, he hadn't worked much since he built the cabin. He didn't like going into the woods. At all. In fact, he always had told Sapphire growing up that there was only one rule in his home: Don't go into the woods. She had never questioned the law: it was simply a fact of life. He told her that bad things would happen if she went into the woods; and that was all she needed to hear. But as she approached the cabin, she immediately noticed something wasn't right. The door lay ajar, and strange cuts were along the entrance, like axe chops had been laid into the doorway time and time again. As she got closer, she realized that they weren't axe marks: They were scratch marks. Something had done this to the door. Something had done something to her father. She ran inside, and called out for her father. Her voice echoed back at her. The fireplace was still warm, embers sparking in the hearth. But everything else was... destroyed. The table that her and her father ate at was smashed to splinters, and the countertops where her father had cut each meal since she was little was scratched up just like the doorway. And her father was gone. She ran outside again, screaming out for him. But he was nowhere to be found.

  It didn't take her long to decide to set out on the journey. Her father had always told her that she had family somewhere else in the woods. Maybe if she found them, she could find her father. He used to say that they lived downstream, about an hours walk away. When Sapphire was little, they had attempted the journey together, but her father saw something and they went home. He never did tell her what had scared him that day. 

She drew on her blue cloak, pulling the hood up tight. She always wore it when her father went out hunting. He said it would protect her. She grabbed her father's hunting knife and a small axe used to chop kindling, and tucked them into her cloak, hiding them away in case she needed them. Whatever had taken her father had left no traces of food, so she decided she would have to figure out a way to hunt. And then she was off. She decided following the stream would be her best choice. Her father had only ever let her go to the stream, and he always told her to come back quickly. But that day she had lingered in the water, and now her whole life was turned upside down. She followed the creek for a good half hour before anything eventful happened. Nothing looked out of place; the trees looked friendly as their green canopy waved to Sapphire. She was almost tempted to wave back. Suddenly, she heard a sloshing sound nearby. Her eyes darted to the stream of water on her left. She figured it must be a fish, she had seen them in the stream before. She sometimes tried to grab them with her hands, but they always slipped away like a spring breeze. She got on her knees, looking closer at the slowly moving, almost flat water. She needed food, and maybe a fish would fill her up. She could see her reflection, and smiled at herself. She had hair as black as the ashes of her fireplace, and eyes to match her name, deep blue like the oceans. (Which Sapphire had never seen before in her sheltered life.) Suddenly, a dark shape moved into her reflection, just under the surface, and Sapphire slowly leaned forward, searching for the fish. Quickly and terrifyingly, a large beast pounced out of the water at her. She shrieked and jumped back, landing hard on the rocky bank of the river. The creature was massive, unlike any animal Sapphire had ever seen out in the yard. It looked like a great hulking creature, covered in scales and hair. It had a great mane that seemed to flow like the water itself. Its eyes glowed a dull indigo, a deep grey void was beckoning to Sapphire from behind the light. The monster seemed to make a sound like a cross between a hiss and a neigh, and Sapphire leaped up, turned and ran straight into the bush, not once thinking about the vague perils her father had warned her about. 

She ran through countless branches, not expecting them to whip into her face, leaving shallow cuts on her cheeks. She fell suddenly, rolling down a grassy hill and only stopping when she hit a tree. She gasped as she realized what she had done, and sat up, looking around, expecting monsters to be surrounding her, waiting to feed. Instead she found that she was sitting in what appeared to be a regular forest. The ground was covered in deep green grass, even though there seemed to be very little sunlight shining in from the canopy. Small crepuscular rays shone down, gracing her eyes with the beautiful sights of the forest. The bases of the trees were covered in thick moss, which Sapphire looked closely at in wonder. She thought it was so gorgeous. The only thing that she had ever experienced that was more pleasant was the sounds of her father playing the wooden flute she had made when she was just a young girl. And then it hit her. No music graced her ears. No sound at all. Looking around, there were no animals at all. She had seen the odd bird around her house before, and her father had told her stories of animals before, but there were none here. Sapphire began to lose her wonder, and replaced it slowly with fear. She should go back to the river. She turned to where the hill had been. Except there wasn't a hill there. That was odd, she was certain she had fell down a hill. She turned every which way, but no hills. Panic welled up inside of her as she forgot which direction the river was in the first place- everything looked the same. She ran in a random direction, her blue cloak blowing in the breeze. She seemed to run for forever before anything changed. The woods were massive, and everything looked the same. She had yet to see a single creature other than the strange water beast, and the only sound that filled her ears was the sound of her own footsteps on the grass. She slumped down against a tree as she gave in to exhaustion, tears rolling down her beautiful face. She had never had a worse day. Normally things were the same every day, save for when her father went out hunting on the nights the moon disappeared. He told her that the forest was safer when there wasn't a moon in the sky. Unfortunately for her, the full moon was nearing. She wasn't sure how long she had, but probably only a few nights. She sobbed into her cloak, and breathed in the scent of it. It smelled like the berries that her father used to bring home, and something else. A deep, seductively sweet smell, that calmed Sapphire down immediately. She looked up, and for the first time that day, she felt hope. Ahead in the forest was a light. Not just sunlight shining through the canopy, but a ball of pure light. Maybe it was a Faery, like the stories her father used to tell. She stood slowly. The ball was a white colour, and glowed as if it were a spirit. Sapphire stepped slowly forward, and as she moved, the ball zipped away. She followed it, gliding along the ground as it whizzed away. Right when she lost sight of it, she saw the tree.

It was a massive old oak, with a large hole in its base. It seemed to rise unbelievably high into the sky, and Sapphire gawked at how wide around it was. She saw the light reappear, as it flew into the hole. She ran for it, a grin breaking out on her face. The knotted entrance was about the size of her house, and strange symbols were engraved on the bark around it. She stepped cautiously inside, seeing that it was a small wooden cavern that narrowed as she walked further and further in. Eventually, she came to a strange thing that looked like a pedestal at the back of the area. The light was gone, nowhere to be seen. The only source of illumination came from the outside light seeping into the cavern. Symbols like the ones outside were carved into the pedestal and the wood surrounding it. They almost looked as if they had grown there naturally, but were too perfect for that to be true. It was then that Sapphire noticed the one thing that was 100% manmade in the cavern. Sitting atop the pedestal was a leather bound journal, that seemed to be redder than the blood that had dripped when Sapphire had been scratched by the branches. She picked it up gingerly, and nothing happened. She had expected some angry God to come out and smite her for stealing its property, but nothing of the sort happened. She did feel a strange wind circulate through the cavern, but didn't think anything of it. She clutched the book to her chest and turned, striding out of the place quickly. She sat at a smaller nearby tree and cracked the book open, slowly reading the first page.

[b]  "Ruby Braith." [/b]The title at the top of the page read.
That was Sapphire's last name! Her father had told her that many years ago when she asked about her family. But he had never mentioned a Ruby...
  Sapphire continued reading.

  "[i]Today is the day I will take the journey to grandmother's house. The way is clear, my mother has spent many years cutting a path towards grandma's. She told me yesterday when she returned from the woods that she had finally made it back to her mother's cabin, and that the old woman was dying to meet me. I thought that was funny because she was old and might actually die soon. I'm nearly 17 years old now, and mother trusts me to make this journey alone. She has told me not to stray from the path, and she has given me a beautiful red cloak that she says will protect me. She seemed hesitant when she gave it to me, but I'm sure it's just because it will be my first time away from home." [/i]

  Upon reading this part, Sapphire pulled her blue cloak tighter around herself. This story seemed similar. Except Sapphire wasn't that old, she was only 15. Why was this journal out here in the woods, and not with its owner? That was the end of that page, and Sapphire quickly flipped to the next one. 

  "[i] Its the next day, and I'm starting to get scared out here alone. There was a strange creature on the path. It looked like a man but had at least four tails. It smiled at me and disappeared. I feel like something's watching me now. [/i]"

  Unbeknownst to Sapphire, an indigo fog rolled out from behind a nearby tree, and a shadow appeared from within. She flipped the page.

  "[i] I'm almost to Grandmother's. Mom said the journey would only take a few hours, but it seems like it's been forever. The full moon is going to be soon, and mom said that I shouldn't be outside when that happened. I'm really scared, and I need to get to Grandma's soon. A wolf tried to lead me astray yesterday, but I stayed on the path. It tried to come on the path, but I pulled my cloak tight and it seemed to run away in fear. Mom was right. The cloak worked! [/i]"

  The woman emerged from the fog. She was obviously inhuman, but also completely humanoid. She had golden glowing eyes and a fox's tail and whiskers. Her hair was long and whiter than snow itself. Strange indigo symbols graced her jawline, and she wore a long silky cloak that seemed to change colour when the light hit it. Her skin was also unnatural, seemingly orange and indigo depending on the angle she stood at. She seemed to float across the ground behind Sapphire as she read, smirking as her body slowly turned into a silky substance, twirling and reforming into a wolf, complete with golden eyes and massive fangs.

  "[i] The wolf is after me and my family. It spoke to me. It told me it had marked me, and that it would follow me and my family until we were all its victims. It seemed to change into a man, and that's when I realized what it was. My mom had told me stories of the fox spirits in the woods. They could shapeshift at will, and were known to hunt humans. I ran and made it to Grandma's house. She's sleeping right now, but I'm going to wake her up in a moment. She seems to be snoring quite loudly. It's weird." [/i] 

  Sapphire breathed deeply as she turned the page. She dropped the book as she read the words.

  [b] THE SHAPESHIFTER HAS HER. [/b]

  The wolf growled, and Sapphire screamed, leaping up and throwing the book across the clearing as she tripped and fell. She looked back at the wolf, right as it leaped on her. She screamed as she waited for the painful death. But it never came. What did come was a loud clinging sound, and a yelping cry of a woman. Sapphire opened her eyes. The woman sat nearby, and a blue glowing chain was locked tightly on her wrist. Sapphire followed the chain, and with a surprise, found that the other end was clamped onto her wrist! 

"Filthy girl." The woman spat, and transformed into an owl, soaring away. With a scream, she fell to the earth, reverting back to her original form. She looked back at Sapphire, noticing the chain. When she attempted to grab onto the chain, her hand seemed to go straight through it, as if it were a ghost. Sapphire sat up slowly, staring at the scowling woman. She changed into a white fox, and sat staring at the chain that was now around her fox neck with a look that Sapphire quickly identified as fear. Sapphire just stared at the fox in awe.

  "How...how do you change what you look like?" She asked obliviously. The fox looked at her with those golden eyes with anger.
A voice filled Sapphire's mind.
  "I am a child of the great golden Kitsune clan. My parent spirit Goro marked your family for death, and it is my destiny to end you!" The voice screamed in Sapphire's head, causing her to cover her ears. But it didn't help. The voice was in her mind. "You...your parent was..." Sapphire mumbled, looking around for the book. But the small red journal was gone. "My parent spirit was a warrior with great renown. My family line must hunt your family line until the last Braith breaths their last breath." The fox explained, and pounced suddenly towards Sapphire. She screamed, pulling her cloak tight like in the book, and the chain pulled back, sending the fox away from Sapphire once again. Was the cloak protecting her? The fox growled a strange sound, and tried once again to run away unsuccessfully. Sapphire tried to touch the chain, but her hand moved through it as well. It looked like she was stuck with the little fox spirit for the time being. 
  "What's your name?" Sapphire asked as she stood up, dusting herself off. The white fox turned towards her, and sat firmly on the forest floor. It was then that Sapphire noted that the creature had not one, but two tails. 
  "My name is Kagami of the golden Kitsune. I am a two tailed spirit who will end your life in due time." Kagami explained in a blunt fashion. 
  "Well, Kaga, looks like you're stuck with me. Please take me to my family's cabin, please." Sapphire asked. Her father always told her to be polite to spirits, for they have great power. 
  "You may call me Kagami,"  The fox demanded. "And you have no family. You are the last Braith." It stated, once again very bluntly. That couldn't be true.
  "But...my father told me..." Sapphire began.
  "Your father was the huntsman, yes? And your mother was Ruby Braith?" The fox asked. I stared, shocked, at the fox. The girl in the book was... My mother? That couldn't be true. Her head swirled. Her father had told her she was adopted. And yet the fox claimed that a huntsman was her true parent. And her father... He had been a great huntsman once. She could remember him saving her from the harsh wilderness when she was young, but nothing before that. Was it true? Was this Ruby girl her mother? It hit her suddenly.
  "Is my mother... Alive?" She asked Kaga. 
  "No. My parent ended her in due time, just as I will end you." The little fox seemed to smile, and Sapphire realized how insidious the little creature truly was. She nearly wanted to throttle the thing. As soon as she thought that, the chain squeezed down on the fox's throat, and it collapsed to the ground, choking. 

Sapphire ran forward without thinking, grabbing the animal compassionately. The chain stopped, and Kagami sputtered weakly and pitifully. Maybe the spirit really was just a scared child. The fox transformed once again into a massive bear, pushing Sapphire back onto the ground. But the chain pulled nice again, pulling Kagami away from Sapphire, and slamming her into the ground. She transformed back into her fox form, and glared at Sapphire. 
  "I suppose I will have to go with you." She grumbled. Sapphire almost smiled. This was exciting.
  "Is my father alive?" She asked for the tenth time as they walked. Kagami had yet to answer her question. The chain seemed to float in between them, as if it was without gravity, and it didn't weigh either of them down. 
  "I cannot tell you that. My spirit is only linked to Braith descendants." Kagami explained reluctantly. Sapphire was visibly disappointed. 
  "So why didn't you attack me while I was growing up then?" She asked the little fox.
  "There were protections up around your house warding off spirits. Someone must have broken them accidentally, letting all the unpleasant things from the woods roam freely on the property." Kagami answered. She wasn't supposed to be telling this to the random girl. Her clan would truly be disappointed in her. She was only a few years younger than the girl (although in her raw form she looked older), and yet she was bowing in submission? Unacceptable. She would have to kill the girl whenever this damned chain came off. It had been her life's mission to kill the Braith family, and the sole heir was walking alongside her now, exchanging pleasantries, and there was nothing she could do. Sapphire looked down at her feet as she realized what had happened. 

She had been bathing in the river as normal that morning, but she had seen a strange stone on the other bank of the river. She knew she wasn't supposed to go over there, but she swam over in curiosity and accidentally knocked the stone into the water. She lost it in the river, but thought nothing of it at the time. It had been an almost flat stone, with strange symbols drawn on it in some kind of dark ink. She had probably caused everything that had happened, all because of some stupid rock. Had she killed her father? She stopped suddenly, as something became clear in my mind.
  "You say I'm the last Braith?" She repeated.
  "Affirmative." Kagami confirmed.
  "But what if I have family, and they've protected their property like my father did?" I asked. And for a moment, the fox's form seemed to blur as she realized that what Sapphire was saying was totally possible. Maybe her journey wasn't that close to being over. 
  "That is very possible, Sapphire Braith." Kagami confirmed. "I could find them, but only with the blood of another Braith." She mumbled under her breath. Sapphire's eyes lit up, and she reached into her cloak. For some reason she had forgotten about the axe and the knife. They seemed almost irrelevant. And weightless, too. Maybe that was another property of the cloak. She pulled out the knife, and pricked her thumb, all within ten seconds. Kagami watched in awe as the blood dropped to the grass. The girl may be stupid, but she was brave. The two tailed fox stepped forward and licked at the blood on the grass. As she did so, a map began forming in her head. She stared at Sapphire. Sapphire lowered her hand, and the fox licked at the small stab wound. As she lapped at the cut, it seemed to slowly heal. Okay, Sapphire was definitely weirded out. A vampire spirit fox was a little much for one day. But she knew she made the right choice when the fox's eyes exploded into rainbow colours, and filled with knowledge. Finally, the Braith family had been uncovered.
  "There is more." Kagami smiled. "They live east." She said with a smile. She turned suddenly, running in one direction. Sapphire followed quickly, before the chain could pull tight. They ran in silence until the sun had set, and Kagami stopped suddenly. 
  "It's dangerous." She explained. The moon was almost full. It would probably be full the next night, Sapphire guessed. In the night, Kagami transformed into a large white wolf. Sapphire wasn't as scared anymore as she had been before. The wolf looked almost friendly. She crawled, cradling herself in the book between the wolf's neck and chest. She barely slept that night. Creatures came and went, like things she had never seen before. Flying monsters that looked like demons, crawling creatures who seemed to be on the hunt, and shifting shapes all came and went throughout the entire night. But none of them paid any attention to the sleeping Kitsune, whose fur glowed slightly, keeping Sapphire warm through the night. Honestly, Kagami would have tried to kill Sapphire if she had fallen asleep, but Sapphire didn't know that. 

When the sun finally rose, so did Kagami. She transformed briefly into her raw form, basking in the morning light. 
  "You're beautiful." Sapphire stated as Kagami turned, glaring as she spun back into her fox form. The journey continued, Sapphire kept the conversation going as they walked, learning some valuable information about her nemesis, and also about herself. Kagami had literally been born to kill Sapphire. Her species, the Kitsune, was a race of shapeshifters whose tails represented their power. Her parent, Goro, cut off one of their tails to create her. Kitsune didn't have actual genders, but they mostly resembled the human female, and they could shapeshift into anything that they had seen in the last day. Apparently the night before Kagami had seen a wolf, an owl, and a bear, Sapphire guessed; or at least spirit versions of each animal. Kagami got her second tail when she defeated her sister Aki in combat, stealing her tail and killing her in the process. Things like killing family meant very little in Kitsune culture, Sapphire quickly learned. Goro had marked Ruby before he had created Kagami or Aki. They had been watching Ruby's mother, Lily, working on the trail for many days, but Lily had a protective amulet on that prevented Goro from marking her. But Ruby, despite her red cloak, was susceptible to being marked. And so the tragedy of the Braith family began. Goro killed Ruby's grandmother and shapeshifted into her. She almost killed Ruby too, but she was saved by a huntsman. Sapphire's father. Goro fled into the woods, and Ruby and her father, Heath, lived together in her grandmother's house for a year. Eventually, Ruby wanted to go visit her mother, and went on the path alone without telling Heath. He didn't approve of her leaving, he thought it wasn't safe. And he was right. Ruby was lost to the woods. It was uncertain when Sapphire was born, but Ruby must have raised her until she was old enough to walk, when Heath found her. Eventually, Goro claimed Ruby as his final kill before creating Kagami, and when he killed her, she was without child. And so, Kagami concluded for her, they were headed to the home of Lily, Sapphire's grandmother, and Ruby's mother, the only other Braith left.

After a few hours, Kagami stopped. 
"It should be here." She whispered. Sapphire stepped forward, and felt something move through her. Blinking, she stared at the sight before her Up a twisting path was a big house, standing in between two oak trees. It certainly hadn't been there before. She took a step back again, and the house vanished. Smiling, she walked forward. The house reappeared, and as Sapphire stepped forward, she fell flat on her face. She turned, grumbling, to see a confused Kagami pressed up against an invisible wall, the chain pulling her along but the barrier not letting her through. I sighed. No spirits allowed. I looked around, and saw one of the stones with the fancy symbols. I pocketed it quickly, and Kagami fell forward, her golden eyes twinkling as she saw the house. Sapphire walked up the path, allowing Kagami to follow her. The house was big and dark, and seemed older than Sapphire's house had been, but somehow in better shape. The smell of incense filled the air, and smoke billowed out of the chimney. Sapphire stepped gingerly up the wooden steps onto the porch, and knocked twice on the door. She heard moving around inside, and looked down at Kagami with sudden fear.
  "Change into a dog or something!" I demanded quickly. "She won't want a Kitsune on her property!" I explained. Kagami gave her a panicked look, and transformed before the door opened. Sapphire didn't have the time to see what she had turned into, nor did she care, as long as it was inconspicuous. In front of her was an old lady, seemingly older than dust, in fact, holding some gross smelling herb and waving it around mumbling.
  "Who are you!?" She demanded to know.
  "I'm Sapphire Braith." I answered softly. The woman's expression changed to a shocked and confused one, and then Sapphire swore she saw a tear well up. 
  "You have your mother's eyes." She whispered, and looked to Sapphire's left. 
  "And your name, dear?" Lily asked. Sapphire looked at Kagami, wondering what she was going to say, and nearly fainted. For some reason, Kagami had decided the proper thing to do in the given situation was to shapeshift into Sapphire! She looked exactly like her, down to the blue cloak, and the way her eyes blinked constantly by habit. 
  "My name is Lapis." She answered immediately, improving on the spot. Lily gave us both appraising looks. 
  "Twins." She exclaimed, shocked. She seemed to not be able to see the chain that linked their arms, and Sapphire thanked God for that. Lily welcomed them in, and they sat down for a cup of tea. The interior of her house was as eccentric as her. Tons of knitting projects were strewn around the house, mostly tapestries and capes, which weren't as nice as the ones the "twins" were wearing currently. They sat down on wooden chairs by a simmering fire, and waited for Lily to return with tea. Sapphire glared at Kagami silently, and Kagami gave her an apologetic look. The old woman returned and we drank our tea. I suddenly piped up. 
  "Do you have any food? We've been in the woods for a couple days without eating." She explained, suddenly realizing how hungry she had become.
  "Of course, dear." Lily promised, and returned with bread moments later. Sapphire and Kagami dug in. Apparently even shapeshifters needed their food. 
  "I'm so glad that you girls found me." Lily began, but then her face turned dark, as she looked past Sapphire. Sapphire turned to see what she was looking at. The full moon glowed in the night sky, and a wave of indigo smoke rolled over the canopy towards the house.
  "You took a protection stone." Lily stated. It wasn't a question, and disappointment was evident in her voice. She stood slowly, looking between the two of them.
  "Which one of you is human!?" She yelled aggressively as she realized the reality of the situation. 
  "Me!" They both yelled at the same time. Sapphire stared at Kagami in disbelief. She was betraying her. She gave Sapphire an identical look, and looked over to Lily.
  "Please, grandma, it's me," she begged. "My mom, Ruby, she had beautiful red hair. She used to tell me it was just like yours!" She cried out, and Sapphire cursed her a million times.
  "No, it's me!" She cried. But it was too late. The woman backed up, tears welling up in her eyes as the indigo smoke began to roll into the house. She ran to the fireplace, grabbing something that looked like an orb, and threw in onto the ground. A blinding light exploded into the room, and the smoke cleared. The explosion sent both girls flying out the window, and even the blue cloak couldn't protect Sapphire from that. She lay on the grass outside, staring up at the stars, as the darkness overtook her.

   Sapphire awoke to the sound of screaming. She leaped up, gasping for air, and turning around, searching for the source of the screams. And then she saw herself. Kagami was rolling around on the ground beside her, screeching. But she wasn't a fox anymore. She looked just like Sapphire, except her eyes were a cloudy white colour, and burn marks were obvious on her face. How long had they been knocked out? Sapphire bent down to comfort her, but the girl slapped her away. Sapphire waited for the chain to pull her away, but it didn't. Looking down, the chain was gone. She backed up slowly as Kagami screamed about how she was going to kill them all. Staring up at the house, she realized quickly that Lily hadn't survived. The house was destroyed, even worse than hers had been. Blood was splattered nearby, and Sapphire didn't need magic to tell whose it was. She collapsed to her knees in grief. She was the last Braith. She cried into her hands, until she noticed something. She looked to where Kagami had been, and saw an empty field. She was gone, blindly wandering the forest until she would eventually perish. It almost made Sapphire want to laugh. But instead, she simply collapsed onto the wreckage, and passed out once again, entering the dark embrace of the darkest reaches of deep sleep.

-------------

[b] Disclaimer: This story is a twist on the Little Red Riding Hood fairy tail. It also contains elements from Japanese mythology. However, each character is completely unique to my story, and are not the same as the original characters. [/b][/hider][hider=Black and White][h2]Black and White.[/h2]

"There is no Emotion, there is Peace." Jedi Knight Alu Kabh muttered softly under his breath, trying to remain calm and banish the anger from his mind. This was much harder then the Jedi Knight would care to admit; The dark presence that walked beside him made his skin crawl and poisoned his mind with the violent thoughts that he was trying to banish.

Lord Drakon of the Sith had long been a persistent and twisted thorn in the Order's side, the dark human having personally been the cause of several planets that [i]should[/i] have belonged to the Republic to be conquered by the Sith but that wasn't what made him such a danger to the Order and the Republic; Other Sith Lords could conquer planets, but Lord Drakon conquered and ruled them in such a way that the masses [i]wanted[/i] to be apart of the Sith Empire. 

Of the four planets that Drakon had command of, only two of them had been reclaimed by the Republic after two [i]very[/i] costly campaigns. The grassroots support and freedom fighters that the Republic often relied on to give them tactical information and insider knowledge of the corrupt Sith government just hadn't exist on these worlds; The population, both human and non human, were content with being apart of the Empire to the point that the Republic was now fighting a guerrilla war on both worlds against rebels who wanted to return to the Sith Empire.

Alu Kabh couldn't understand back when he had first set foot on Herbi Two what sort of dark magic the Sith Lord had been employing to ensure such devote loyalty in his population; He had been forced to watch as good republican solders were cut down by blasters and makeshift bombs while friends he had known all his life in the Order were brutally murdered trying to defend themselves from mobs of citizens that shouted misguided lies about fighting for their freedom from the corrupt Republic. 

Even has he walked beside the captured Lord of the Sith, he still didn't understand how the bastard was able to do it. A part of Alu Kabh had been thrilled by the thought of finally being able to put the Sith Lord down for all the lives that he had destroyed, but the bastard had denied him even that small justice! A Sith Lord was supposed to be backed into a corner and go down fighting, only considering surrender after they had been bested; Lord Drakon had offered terms of surrender out of the blue, willing presenting himself to the Jedi in return for leaving the last two planets under his domain in the hands of the Sith Empire. 

Alu looked around as they arrived at their destination; A little used hanger bay. Alu Kabh might have been the only Jedi among the small group of escorts, but he knew that the men with him were capable and loyal enough to do what needed to be done. He couldn't afford to bring his apprentice along for this; She was too ideological to do what needed to be done... besides, he remembered how Drakon had been able to make her smile, blush and laugh when she had come down with him to question the Sith Lord that first time. She simply could not be counted on. 

Drakon took a moment to look around at the unused hanger bay before letting out a sigh. Turning around enough to meet Alu's gaze, Alu saw an understanding acceptance in the Sith Lords gaze as the man simply said "I take it that this is were you'll kill me then. I have to admit that I expected better from you." 

The blue lightsaber in Alu's hand sprang to life with a deadly hiss, its owner glaring at the man that he hated more then any other in the world. "Save your lies [i]Sith[/i]." He hissed with a venom that would have made a Darth proud "I don't know what foul sorcery you've used to poison those forced to live on your worlds, but once you're gone I can feel that the spell will break and everything will be as it should be."

Drakon looked... somewhat confused by the allegation that had been thrown his way, but Alu would not fall for such a lie. Before the Sith Lord would have a chance to try and fill the air with more lies to cast doubt on his righteous cause, Alu drew his lightsaber back to -

"MASTER! STOP!"

Alu's hand froze as he and those solders with him turned towards the door that they had entered the hanger through. Standing there was a young Twi'lek woman that had just left her teens and had become an adult, blessed with beauty and a gift with the force. Her name was Sakka, and she was not alone. Around here, armed with a mix of blasters and vicroblades was a rag tag group of what could have only been imperial rebels. 

The jedi knight turned to glare at the Sith Lord, seething as he declared "How [i]dare[/i] you have your puppets take my apprentice hostage!"

"I am [i]NOT[/i] a hostage Master." Sakka declared, drawing her lightsaber but leaving it unlit for the moment as she started to approach "I had a vision of what you were going to do and I called on the only people I knew I could trust to help me stop this insanity before it got out of hand." Sakka had tears in her eyes as a begging tone entered her voice "Please Master, you're about to strike down an unarmed, restrained man. Think about what you are doing."

For a moment, Alu felt uncertainty. Doubt plagued him as he questioned himself and his course of action; The Order forbid the execution of prisoners, no matter what it was that they had done... Suddenly, he blinked as he resolve steeled itself once more. "This is no man, merely a monster that looks like one. Don't you see Sakka? He is controlling you like he is controlling them!" A finger was raised and pointed at the rebels that were aiming at the republic solders with him in a tense stand off "The sooner he dies, the sooner this dark spell will be over and everything will be set right!" 

Turning wildly, Alu rose his lightsaber up to make the killing blow while blasters from both both republic and rebel sides fired... only for a green lightsaber blade to exit his chest. Alu looked down at the lightsaber blade in confusion before turning to look at his student, tears in her eyes as she held the hilt of her lightsaber so tightly that her knuckles were white. "I'm so sorry..." were the last words that Alu ever heard before the darkness consumed him completely.

.........................................................

The battle had been short lived. Without Alu to counter Sakka's abilities, the republican solders fell quickly to the loyalist assault. Lord Drakon was freed with much celebration by the loyalists, but the Sith Lord's attention was on the Jedi who had struck down her master to save his life. 

She was so pale that she looked almost lifeless as she stared at the corpse of her mentor. Taking a few steps to join her, he barely managed to hear her whisper aloud "Why? Why did he do this?"

Clearly it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but Sakka appeared to listen when Drakon softly spoke "Your master fell into an insidious trap that many fall into without realizing. He has spent his whole life being taught that there was only black and white, good and evil; That the Jedi and the Republic were good and the Sith and the Empire evil. He believed this so greatly that the moment he encountered evidence to suggest otherwise he denied it to the point of disillusion. You might have wielded the blade, but it was your masters own narrow minded zealotry that brought about his end."      

~Based on the Star Wars Franchise, once owned by Lucas Arts and now owned by Disney.[/hider][hider=Of Monsters and Men]By [@Holmishire].

Melas awoke, soaked to the core, on a bed of hard rock. Aching all over his body, he touched a shaking hand to his right shoulder and drew it back coated in blood.
 
Sitting up—and instantly regretting it as he let loose a cry of pain—Melas spared a moment to take in his surroundings.
 
The rock on which he'd fallen was a matte black, part of an outcropping five yards wide. This slab of rock was one of many sticking out of a similarly formed cliff-face. Stretching and curving for miles to either side, the boy thought he could see a distant wall of rock opposite him, through a vast haze of fog.
 
Looking to his left, he spied a massive waterfall, its roar beginning to sound in his ears as they adjusted to consciousness. Some ten yards up the raging water was another outcropping of rock, stained with blood.
 
[I]I must have fallen from there,[/I] he pondered, pulling at his dripping clothes.
 
Feeling something jabbing at his back, he reached around, his hand grasping a rough, conical item tied by a string around his neck. Lifting it carefully over his head with his left hand—and yet still wincing as the movement strained his bleeding shoulder—he placed it on his lap to get a good look at it.
 
Set with a sturdy leather cap, it appeared to be a hollowed ram's horn. "The [I]cornucopia[/I]," he gasped.
 
He remembered.
 
[I]The flapping of wings, the rush of wind, the sting of sweat and blood.[/I]
 
Chased by a trio of harpies, he and his brother had flown out of the massive pit in the earth on the back of a pegasus. Their precious cargo, powerful items stolen from a weakened Gaia, would prove crucial to their success in the war against the gods. The [I]harpe[/I], a sickle that castrated a titan and beheaded a gorgon. The stone tablet of [I]Ara[/I], cut from the same alter that had marked the gods' defiance to the Titans. And the [I]cornucopia[/I], which he now carried, containing an unlimited supply of ambrosia.
 
Uncorking the horn, he poured its contents over his shoulder. Biting back a scream as the ambrosia healed his flesh, Melas nevertheless felt euphoria as it entered his bloodstream. Had he drank it directly, the liquid would surely have driven him mad—but though distant, his partially divine heritage prevented the shock from killing him outright.
 
Rising with renewed vigour, Melas considered the direness of his situation. He and his brother had been under the protection of the two boreads, winged brothers of the North wind. He could only hope that after he had been thrown off by the harpies the other three had escaped the pit into the forests beyond. Judging by the fact that they had yet to retrieve him, they either assumed him dead, or the harpies were still at large, preventing them from returning by air. Knowing his brother, it was likely the latter.
 
That, or they were all dead.
 
Either way, he needed to find a way out of this pit. An immense cylindrical hole in the earth, Gaia rested in a deeper crevasse at the centre, reaching deep into the bowels of the earth. It was here that the entire war had started. Bearing a plague that stripped the gods of the their divine powers and immortality, Ouranos limped into his mother's arms—and from her it spread to the rest of the world. Ever greedy, humanity rose up to overthrow Mount Olympus's rule.
 
In the first battle, however, they faced a brutal shock: though the gods could now be killed, they still bore the strength of a thousand men—each.
 
With their very existence under threat, Zeus had but one one decree—the complete genocide of the human race.
 
Melas began to carefully descend the cliff-face. Going down was demoralizing, but the pit was [I]at least[/I] a mile deep. There was no way he'd be able to climb the whole way up. Thankfully, he knew cave systems and stairs existed that would take him to the top—he just didn't know where to find any of them.
 
[hr]Hours had passed since he'd awoken, and the only progress he'd made was in retrieving his sheathed sword, found at the base of the cliff. Now, all he could content himself with was walking the entire circular edge of the pit, scanning the black rock for an entrance—or at least some hint as to where he would find one.
 
The pervasive fog kept him on edge. From time to time, he could hear the shrill shrieks of the harpies as they flew above, guarding their home from intruders—it seemed they had abandoned their search for his companions. Unsurprisingly, for the surrounding forests were even more vast than the pit itself.
 
But what really kept his skin crawling was the unknown. He knew Gaia's pit was teeming with all sorts of vile creatures. He knew how to fight, but the monsters of old were far beyond his ability to kill, least of all with the short sword he wielded.
 
Give him a spear, and maybe he'd stand a chance.
 
A noise, to his right.
 
Melas ducked low to the ground, his sword drawn as he scanned the fog for movement. He thought he'd heard a distinctly reptilian hiss.
 
A slight figure strode out of the fog—humanoid and wrapped in a thick cloak. As it drew closer, he could make out a feminine figure beneath her robes.
 
"Come no closer!" he shouted, voice hoarse. "I'm armed."
 
She made no sign that she heard his threat, but drew slowly to a halt nevertheless. After a moment of silence, she pulled back her hood. What was revealed sent Melas reeling in fear: a soft, girlish face; yellow, scaley skin; and a dozen writhing snakes for hair.
 
He closed his eyes in a panic, but it took him only a moment's realization to remember a detail he'd missed—a blindfold, pulled tight over her eyes.
 
Looking again, he approached her with his blade pointed at her throat. "I know what you are, [I]gorgon[/I]. My great-grandfather slew one of your ilk—I can do the same."
 
Still, she offered no reaction. Once the blade was but inches from her skin, she gently gripped his shaking hand and pushed it down. "I can taste your fear, human. You need not fear me. I shall do you no harm."
 
Melas scowled, but restrained himself from making any threatening gestures. "Monsters are known to deceive their prey. Your wiles will do nothing for me."
 
"I was not always such a creature. It was not long ago that I was a goddess—a few centuries to a mortal." She graced him with a despondent smile, touching the edge of her blindfold—Melas tensed, ready to strike should she attempt to remove it. Her smile, weak already, wavered. Still, she continued. "Perseus could not kill me, times have changed. Now, I am just as mortal as you."
 
"Then why shouldn't I kill you now?"
 
"Because I need you."
 
Melas barked a brusque laugh. "Hardly a good defence." He raised his blade only for the gorgon to push it aside once more.
 
"I know how to get out of this pit, but I need you to do it."
 
Melas was visibly struggling with the idea, his grip on the sword less sure. A shriek of a harpy punctuated the silence, making him jump.
 
"Please," the gorgon murmured.
 
The boy's eyes set with determination. "Fine." He gestured towards the cliff-face, then realized the futility of such a motion. "Lead the way," he said instead.
 
[hr]They had been walking for quite some time, the gorgon slowly treading the circumference of the pit much as Melas had, but using her left hand instead of her eyes. Unable to bear the silence any longer, the boy opened his mouth to speak—
 
"My name is Euryale." Her voice was oddly soothing, but he was still startled by the interruption.
 
"How did you do that?"
 
"I could hear the change of your breath."
 
Melas thought that over. "Is that how you found me?"
 
"No." He thought he could hear a hint of self-satisfaction in her tone. "It is rare to find the stench of a human down here. You are fortunate I found you first."
 
"That has yet to be seen. Keep looking."
 
"I know where I'm going," she replied indignantly.
 
He chose not to respond.
 
After a couple more minutes, Euryale stopped, her hand resting in a straight groove in the cliff-face, difficult to distinguish amidst the natural edges of the black rock.
 
Melas looked closely at the groove. "Well?" he asked.
 
Euryale pointed up and a little to the right. "I need you to get me up there."
 
Her aim was off, but Melas could easily make out a large outcropping some distance up. "How?" he almost whined.
 
"By climbing. Do you have rope?"
 
He grunted in assent.
 
"Then pull me up when you get there." Sitting down on the dirt, she made herself comfortable for a long wait. "Good luck, human."
 
"Melas," he grumbled.
 
The barest hint of a smile edged her lips. "Good luck, Melas."
 
[hr]The climb was difficult, but the ambrosia's long-lasting effects gave him the strength to persevere. He had only fallen once, his quick reflexes saving him from shattering below by catching hold of the rock further down.
 
Drenched in chilling sweat, he pulled himself over the ledge and flopped onto his back, panting.
 
Almost four times larger than the outcropping he'd fallen to by the waterfall, it receded into the cliffside out of sight. Once he'd gathered his breath, he rose to investigate.
 
The recession stretched deep into the cliff, expanding into a dark cave.
 
Reluctant, he returned to the edge, planted himself behind some rocks for footholds, and threw the rope over the edge. He had tied a small stone to the end so that is would click against the cliff as it fell, allowing the gorgon to find it easily without her eyes.
 
After a few moments, the rope pulled taut. Heaving up the rope hand over hand, Melas found himself surprised at just how light she was.
 
Once her hands gripped the ledge, he went to her, grabbed her wrists, and thrust her up to join him.
 
"Thank you."
 
"Don't mention it." He grimaced. "Please."
 
Euryale approached the entrance, feeling the walls with her hands. The snakes on her head hissed as they reached out, tongues tasting the cold air emanating from inside. She reached a hand out behind her, not turning to face him. "Take my hand. I know the way."
 
Melas quickly searched his gear. "My torches broke when I fell—how will I see?"
 
"You won't. You'l just have to trust me."
 
Scoffing, he turned back to face the pit. As if to punctuate his thoughts, he heard the shriek of the harpies in the distance.
 
"Or, you could trust [I]them[/I]."
 
He took her hand.
 
[hr]Her hand was cold and delicate, encompassed by his own calloused mitt.
 
In the absence of light, Melas was left nearly alone with his thoughts, his only connection to the external environment their echoing stpes and the tiny grip of Euryale's hand.
 
Deprived of his sight, it took constant effort for him to remember that the creature leading him was a fallen goddess, a bloodthirsty monster cursed for her vanity—and [I]not[/I] a sweet young maiden, lost in the dangerous wilds as much as him.
 
A girl who couldn't see.
 
"Why the blindfold?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Couldn't you have made it up here without me with your eyes open?"
 
Euryale did not answer for some time. When she did, she spoke barely above a whisper. "I never had the ability to petrify others with my gaze, if that's what you're asking. That was my sister." She paused, and when she continued, it was with a voice somehow even quieter. "But that didn't prevent your kin from cutting them out when they found me."
 
Melas was left speechless.
 
"So, no, I did not don the blindfold for your sake."
 
[hr]A few hours of wandering through the cave systems, twisting and turning down innumerable ranches, Melas was decidedly lost. He was amazed that the gorgon knew such a complicated route by heart—and he considered the possibility that she [I]didn't[/I].
 
His only reassurance was the confidence of her stride.
 
As they rounded another corner, still on their slow ascent, he caught sight of something—a feat in and of itself in this darkness. Asking her to stop for a moment, he knelt down to get a closer look.
 
"What is it?" she asked, standing over him.
 
In front of Melas was a lone piece of wood, light emanating from a substance on its surface. "Foxfire," he explained, a glowing fungus found on rotting wood." He began to collect some of it to help light the way, but Euryale tapped him on the shoulder.
 
"Don't bother, there will be more."
 
He wrapped up what little he had gathered then turned to take hold of her hand again. Euryale was looking ahead, he snakes lethargic and fearful, anxiety painted in broad strokes across her face.
 
"We enter the mines."
 
[hr]She had not lied.
 
This section of the caves was dominated by tunnels carefully carved from the stone, discarded support beams showing up frequently, their rotting cores bursting open with the soothing lime flow of the foxfire.
 
Euryale had given no explanation as to what about the mines made her so apprehensive, and every time her had tried to pry the information from her, she had abruptly shushed him, listening intently as she walked.
 
No longer needing to walk hand-in-hand with the gorgon, Melas distracted himself with his sword, swinging it through the air in complicated series of arcs and jabs, taking down imaginary foes.
 
Despite his skill, 'twould be a foolish sight to behold, were there anyone present to see it.
 
The two came upon a large chamber, teeming with foxfire. Scattered across the room were discarded carts, tools, and even a few long-dried bones—though no fully intact skeletons. Picking up what he assumed to be a bull's thigh-bone, he tossed it towards Euryale.
 
She caught it deftly without breaking stride, setting it on the floor silently. "We'll make camp here. Set up a fire, and I shall take first watch."
 
"Aye, whatever you say." Dropping his gear by one of the carts, he set about gathering the least rotten wood he could locate for burning.
 
As he explored the chamber, he found signs of violence. Carts knocked over, wooden beams broken in two, and most unnerving of all large claw marks on the rocky floor. With a quickly collected load, he returned to the site where he'd left Euryale.
 
While he was away, she had gone through his things, setting up his sleeping roll and tossing him a chunk of bread. Stuffing it into his mouth, he dropped the wood in the centre of the makeshift camp before fiddling with his fire-starting tools. "What happened to the miners working here?"
 
Her response was hesitant, but at least better than the nothing he'd received all day. "They were chased out, by hounds of basalt. Those who remained, died." She thought for a moment. "Those who fled, likely also died."
 
Melas felt a chill run down his spine. "And you didn't feel the need to [I]tell[/I] me about these hounds?"
 
"No." Her voice was low, almost sad. "I did not wish to worry you. Besides," she looked him in the eye, "most have already been slain."
 
"Humans don't just kill things, you know," he grumbled. "Things kill us too."
 
"I know." She smiled at him, despondently. "But we are dwindling. Humans will always make more of themselves."
 
Not if Zeus has his way. They mean to kill us [I]all[/I], just like the Giants. Just like the Titans. Only [I]we[/I] won't come back." He spat on the rock. "All we did was balance the playing field. The plague was our chance at freedom."
 
Euryale looked away. "I am sorry, I did not mean to offend you. But you must know that every war has consequences. Many innocents have suffered for your arrogance." Melas opened his mouth to retort, but she silenced him with a raised finger. "I know, you wish only to protect your kin. Now sleep, I will watch over you."
 
The gorgon began to hum, and soon her voice seeped into his sore bones, lulling him to sleep. She guided him gently to his sleeping roll and tucked him in.
 
As his eyes shut, all he could hear was the crackling of the fire an the humming of her voice.
 
[hr]Silence.
 
As he rose groggily from where he'd slept, he heard nothing but silence.
 
Where the fire before had crackled humbly, giving off sweet warmth, now there lay only cold ashes. He looked around the camp for Euryale, but she was nowhere to be seen.
 
What he did find, however, was a trail of golden blood.
 
Drawing his sword, he followed the trail at a slow, deliberate pace, careful not to make a sound.
 
It lead him through and out of the main chamber, down a winding tunnel with only sparse sproutings of foxfire to light the way. Here, the damage he'd seen earlier, continued: the walls criss-crossed with deep gouges, the shattered wooden beams.
 
As the tunnel levelled off, Melas heard movement ahead—the sound of stone scraping against stone, and loud, infrequent barks.
 
His heart racing, he slipped into another illuminated chamber.
 
Smaller and more roughly-hewn than the last one, it was covered in pieces of shattered rock, and the scattered remains of numerous skeletons, many fully intact. Fox-fire coated the walls—in contrast to the relative darkness he'd grown used to, it felt light daylight, albeit lime-coloured.
 
In the centre of the chamber lay an immense hound, nearly two men tall and plenty thick. It's body was covered in a scaly rock-like shell, leaving only its belly exposed. For now, it slept, scraping the ground with its claws in troubled sleep, whining and barking on occasion.
 
And across from it lay Euryale.
 
Unwilling to leave her behind, he slowly edged his way around the beast until he was kneeling at her side.
 
Her frail body was bloody and battered, a thick gash stretching across her stomach. Her throat was torn open, oozing golden blood, and both her legs seemed crushed. Still, placing a hand over her chest, he could feel her heart beating. Had she not once been a goddess, she'd surely be dead. As things stood, she was not far off.
 
Unslinging the [I]cornucopia[/I] from his back, he tilted up her chin and poured some of its potent contents down her gullet. Shortly, she began to gurgle and choke, her flesh reforming around her throat. Next, he poured some onto the gash on her stomach, sealing it. As she started to regain consciousness, he hiked up her skirt and—generously applying the liquid to his hands, rubbed ambrosia into her legs.
 
Her eyes fluttering open, she looked at him. "The hound..." she mumbled, gesturing in its direction.
 
"Be quiet, everything's gonna be fine." He could feel the bones in her legs begin to reset under his touch.
 
Euryale stiffened, suddenly alert, and gripped his shoulder. "I'm going to scream," she stated, matter-of-factly.
 
"Don't be an idiot—"
 
"When I scream, you need to slit its throat."
 
"What?"
 
"Cover your ears."
 
He looked over at the hound. No longer was it lying on the ground. No longer was it whining in its sleep. No longer was it moving.
 
It stood still, staring straight at them with unblinking eyes.
 
"[I]Cover your ears.[/I]"
 
"Wha—?"
 
Tearing his hands off her legs, she slapped them firmly on either side of his head.
 
And screamed.
 
The sound tore into his being, the vibrations in his bones almost tearing him apart. Never before had he felt pain so excruciating. Never before had he been so incapacitated.
 
She screamed for a good twenty second, then out of breath, stopped.
 
The ensuing relief left Melas feeling hollow, powerless. His ears still rang—still bled, too.
 
Opening his eyes, the world fuzzy around him, he saw the stone hound keeled over in pain, scratching at its ears with its claws.
 
Looking to his side, he saw his sword lying on the ground where he'd dropped it. He saw himself pick it up, but felt not his grip. He watched as he lurched towards the hound, not aware of his own wight. He brought his sword up, and ended it with a single downwards swipe.
 
The last he could make out before succumbing to the black was Euryale, leaning over him with the [I]cornucopia[/I] in hand, rocking him onto his side so she could get a better look at his ears.
 
[hr]He awoke, again, in their makeshift campsite, feeling none the worse for wear. Rolling onto his side, he saw the roaring fire, tenderly tended by Euryale.
 
She held out a slab of cooked meat, and he snatched it from her hand, ravenous. Just as he was about to take a bite, he reconsidered, and looked up at her. "Is this..."
 
"Yes."
 
"Are you [I]serious[/I]?"
 
"... Yes."
 
He pondered that for a moment. "How do you know its safe to eat?"
 
In response, she licked her lips and pointed to a small pile of bone, freshly charred and picked clean.
 
That being all the evidence he needed, he dug in. Once he had torn all the meat, he wiped a hand across his mouth to speak. "So, you..."
 
She raised a hand, silencing him. "My youngest sister had her eyes. I have my voice." She smiled at him. "Thankfully, my gift need not be lethal."
 
The two sat in silence, enjoying one another's company.
 
After the moment had drawn out long enough, she spoke. "When we leave this place—"
 
"No." Melas's face was suddenly grim—though inside, his emotions were in conflict. "I'm sorry Euryale. I am human, and you are not. Once I leave this cave... I will go my way. And you... you will yours."
 
Tears streamed down her cheeks, staining her blindfold, and yet she made not a sound.
 
It was not long before they set out again, leaving the fire to burn out on its own.
 
[hr]Once they had left the mines behind, there was very little to traverse before reaching the surface. After only a few more hours of walking, Melas saw the faint glow of light.
 
Instead of rushing out with joy, Melas lagged behind, allowing Euryale to take the lead again. He dared not admit it even to himself, but the coward in him hoped she would already be gone by the time he left the cave, should he walk slow enough.
 
What laid in wait, however, was a fate far more sinister. Standing stiff at the entrance, Euryale faced not empty air, but two men. The surviving boread, and Melas's own brother.
 
He looked to his brother, saw the insatiable hate in his eyes, a hate he reserved only for the gods.
 
He looked to the gorgon, tears sparkling in the starlight, slumped in quiet acceptance of defeat.
 
He knew could only choose one.
 
So Melas took his sword and plunged it through her gut, watching the blade burst out the other side. She leaned into him, her golden blood staining his clothes, her head falling to his shoulder. With pain coursing through her body, she wailed.
 
This wail, though it pierced his heart, was neither the paralyzing cry she'd used to defeat the hound, nor was it the enchanting song she'd used to hum him to sleep. This wail was naught but raw emotion, carrying over the dimly lit forest in testimony to a dying grief—and echoing into the pit below. When it ceased, she slumped to her knees, looking up to him.
 
[I]All gods are monsters.[/I]
 
He tore his blade free from her gut. He could not see behind her blindfold—and even if he could, he knew she had no eyes. But in that moment, he gaze bore into him.
 
[I]All monsters must die.[/I]
 
The gaze that bore into him as he raised the sword high above his head for a final swing was not one of rage, nor of sadness.
 
[I]She is a god. She is a monster. She [/I]must[I] die.[/I]
 
The gaze he felt was filled with forgiveness.
 
Just as he prepared himself to take her head, his lifelong companions rushing to his supposed aid, a shriek pierced the air.
 
The shriek of a harpy.
 
Summoned by her wail, they swept towards the four figures, ready to kill.
 
The fastest struck Melas square in the side, sending him sprawling towards his brother, his blade lost. Blood would soon be spilled.
 
[hr]It was not long before Euryale heard the screams and cries of battle, the three heroes of men facing off against the three winged sisters.
 
Her mind and body racked with pain, Euryale's only thoughts were of survival. Gripping her bleeding stomach with her left arm, she pulled herself back towards the caves, leaving a golden trail behind her.
 
Talons pierced her shoulder, and she groaned in pain as they tightened to grip her bone. Flipping her onto her back, the harpy grinned down at her.
 
Euryale, too weak to scream, could only wince at the voice that breathed down upon her.
 
Aello gently laid a talon on the gorgon's face and ever-so-slowly dragged it down her cheek, turning the claw into a blade of gold. "Poor little gorgon," she teased. "Trying to to escape her duty to the [I]earth-mother[/I]." She twisted her shoulder between her talons, the bone straining under the tremendous strength of the harpy. "Trying to escape her duty to the [I]gods[/I]." With an extra flick, the bones shattered, and Euryale moaned in agony. "The humans would never have taken you in." Her talons cut deep into her chest, reaching for her heart as he devilish grin reached from ear to ear. "[I]You—[/I]"
 
Aello was interrupted by a spearhead sprouting from her throat. She flopped her wings, confused, and then tumbled off the dying gorgon.
 
Melas limped away from the mingled corpses of his companions and the other two harpies. Bleeding from all over his body and breathing out of a single unpunctured lung, he could only manage three steps towards the gorgon before falling on his face, dead.
 
Tumbling from his grasp came the [I]cornucopia[/I], rolling down the slope towards the caves' entrance, only to stop at Euryale's outstretched hand. Unfastening the cork, she brought the horn to her lips, and drank.[/hider][hider=Larry the Postman]Larry was a postman. He drove a pygmy white truck full of letters and packages and bills, mostly bills, with its steering column on the wrong side so that he could reach the mailboxes and skeleton black wheels that never went flat. Larry wore a blue jumpsuit the color of oily ocean water and glasses with square black rims and thick lenses and a silly hat with a short brim that he had to wear and boots with orthopedic soles. His jumpsuit had his name sewn into it with rose thread which had faded from rain and hail and wind and snow into a currant shade. He was fifty two years old and all alone except for his daughter who came to visit sometimes. He hadn’t shaven his beard or cleaned his nails or put on his nicer clothes to make her feel better about moving away. 

Larry delivered all the letters and packages and bills to Box Street and east and north of Main, which was a hundred and forty three houses. In the morning he sorted all the letters and bills into piles and put all the packages into a clear plastic tub like a milk crate and wheeled everything out to his truck and sorted it all again in a particular order. The first section of his route was Box Street, which ran north for a quarter mile then ambled westward at an angle and terminated in a cul-de-sac. The houses here were old colonials with ivied walls and honeysuckle and lillyflower and dogwood in Cedar mulch, richly shuttered bay windows and miles and miles and miles of picket fence lining fescue yards and hedge bushes and driveways and herringboned footpaths. The houses here all had doors with mail slots that he would slide the envelopes through and great brass handles and doorbells that he would knock or chime for packages. 

After Box Street he turned left on Main and then left again onto Washington and delivered again to all the odd numbers on the right and the even numbers on the left. Once a week or more he carried new books from Amazon to the Taylors in 357 and if the books were heavy that meant the Taylors were happy, and if they were light then Mrs. Taylor was afflicted. Washington was shorter than Box and ended in a corner with Tulip Avenue, but the way he sorted everything meant that Tulip came last on the route. He turned around at the corner and delivered all the even-numbered letters and bills and packages.

When Larry made this turn he spied a sunning cane corso. Larry had an ear for barks since he had always kept a dog or two of his own. This dog’s bark belonged on 330 Summerset Avenue, though he had never seen the dog itself except in great auburn shadows clawing at the textured glass panes of a door. He did not know its first name, but its last name was Rodriguez and it was never our when he made his deliveries. It looked at his truck and snarled and made a low grunting sound, more visible than auditory from the great muscles in its neck deliberating a threat. But the Rodriguez dog settled excitedly on its side and merely watched, infringing as it was already on the pheromonal territory of the Taylor shepherd. 

Larry finished his even packages and turned up Broad, which crossed Elling Avenue and then Tolbert Avenue and then Summerset and then Tulip last. At Tulip again he saw the Rodriguez dog, closer now. Its back was finely tigerstriped in black and coffee shorthair. Triangular black ears willowed behind furrowed topaz slits and an ashy black muzzle with cheeks that sagged and drooped even though the corners were taut. It rose from its place and sauntered towards the truck in stopping paces that seemed measured and powerful. Larry’s truck’s engine rumbled back in a pitiful growl and he stomped on the pedal a little harder than usual and wheeled back around to the south to deliver all the even-numbered parcels on Broad Street. As he reached Main again he saw the Rodriguez dog in his mirror padding after him and watching, and he tapped his radio and told Susanne to call the dog catcher.

East of Broad Street was Mulberry Drive. All of the houses from Mulberry to the east were new built in brick and vinyl with white concrete driveways and tin street lanterns anodized in black and brass hues along fresh sidewalks and pristine curbs. Here lived sapling trees with posts and wires to hold them upright against the gales and a handful of older transplants which had been brought down from the hills out north when the builders finished. The development changed hands twice before it was sold back to the town, accounting for some variation in the homes’ design, but all the mailboxes were shaped the same and painted in matte earth tones, with odd numbers emblazoned on the right hand and even on the left. 

Larry moved swiftly from one box to the next, but he did not smile until he reached 402 coming south. He had a package for 402 Mulberry. He stopped his truck and fished the package out of his plastic bin and gathered all the letters atop the parcel. When he stepped out the engine fell silent and he could hear cars on Main Street and joggers crossing down Summerset and music from somewhere off to the east faintly on the gentle breeze and a soft clack-clack-clack of claws on the hard sidewalk. The Rodriguez dog eyed him from the north and stopped when he looked that way and pawed the ground. Larry carried a pocketful of milkbone treats and a canister of pepper spray. He fingered the treats first but his hand touched each in its place before he walked up the driveway and rang the bell.

‘Martha?’ he said when the door opened.

‘Yes, that’s me.’ She was in her forties. ‘You must be the Bible salesman.’

‘I’m sorry?’ he said.

‘Bibles,’ she said again. ‘In the package, it’s Bibles.’ She took it and looked over her shoulder. ‘Quiet, Bernard! Bernard!’ Bernard was a terrier and he was not quiet. He was yapping from safety behind his mother and arching his back. ‘Don’t worry about him, he’s a good dog. Do I need to sign?’ Larry nodded to both and handed over an electronic pad with a plastic pen with a bulbous tip and she scrawled on it. ‘Bernard!’ she cried suddenly, and the terrier shot out past her leg serpentine and lithe and out the door. ‘God damn it,’ she muttered, then, ‘oh god.’

Bernard went past Larry as his hand grasped the can of mace, but the crème and chocolate terrier was not interested in him. The Rodriguez dog had stalked down the sidewalk behind him and was coming up the driveway at a trot when Bernard got in his way. The cane corso was bigger by forty or fifty pounds but reeled back from this snapping demon terrier as if dumbstruck the way soldiers cower from a frail commander. Bernard pursued the great beast and barked a dozen times in half a second and shot pillars of foaming slobber from the fangs in his tiny mouth and tried to tangle with it, but the larger animal only grunted and fled, its cropped pit tail flattening while Martha shouted ‘Bernard! Bernard!’ over the wild noise. The two creatures vanished up the road and around a corner.

‘I’ll get him,’ said Larry. ‘I don’t mind.’ She gave him a leash and told him what to say and to be careful and that Bernard would come back on his own if that big one didn’t rip him apart first and Larry said it would be no trouble, he liked dogs, even big ones.

He left the truck and the package of bibles and the other packages and letters and bills and followed after Bernard. He made it up the road and there wasn’t any sign of either dog, so he went through an alley on the north end of Tulip that led to a dirt access road for utilities trucks. There he found Bernard trying to lick awkwardly at a softly oozing cut on his face where the cane corso had bit or scratched at him. The Rodriguez dog was off to the other side but it straightened up when it saw Larry and it started to come his way. This time Larry found the can of mace straightaway and he pulled it up and aimed it and let out a cloud of stinging poison that set the poor thing howling and wincing and scampering back to safety.

‘It’s all right boy, it’s okay, I got you.’ Larry snapped the metal link around Bernard’s collar and tried to tug him back to the road but Bernard wouldn’t come, so he knelt down and tried to pick him up and carry him instead. Bernard snapped out and dug his teeth deep into the fleshy part of his hand and they both recoiled. ‘Son of a bitch!’ Larry cried. He put the bit hand in his mouth and winced. ‘Come on,’ he said and gave the leash a yank. The terrier dug his feet in but Larry pulled him out and dragged him to the road and then he started walking along with him. The big dog had seen them both bleed and if it was as wild as he thought then they had to get away fast.

The Rodriguez dog prowled behind them both. Bernard tried to keep Larry between himself and the bigger animal, and Larry just turned around and fired a burst of mace in the air and frightened the cane corso off. He had to do it again and again as they were escorted out of the cane corso’s new territory, ever wary of the striped monster with its dangerous eyes, red now from the spray. When they crossed Summerset the Rodriguez dog left off and glowered back towards its home. Then Larry and Bernard met Martha on the sidewalk and took the leash and looked at both their wounds with a face full of terror. ‘Let me look at that,’ she said to Larry. ‘I got a first aid kit inside.’ 

‘It’s nothing,’ Larry told her. 

‘That animal should be put down,’ Martha said.

Larry looked at her, and at Bernard, and up the road where the Rodriguez dog had gone, then back at Bernard. The terrier still watched him with wary hazel orbs and Martha held him and tried to wipe away the blood from his snout. ‘Yeah,’ Larry said, turning away. ‘Yeah, that cane corso got us both good. It’s alright, I called animal control already.’

‘They gonna put him down? He bit you, right? They put dogs down for biting.’ Larry looked deep into Bernard’s eyes and shrugged. ‘Well I’ll shoot ‘im if he comes around here again, see if I don’t. You sure you’re fine?’

Larry smiled. ‘Fine, just fine,’ he said. ‘Go on.’ 

He sprayed his wound with bactine and wiped it with gauze from the bite kit in his truck, and taped a square of gauze. The red soaked through in little spots as if Bernard had bitten just there on the bandage and left little dimples with his teeth. Larry finished his round on Summerset as he always did, and when he reached 330 he found John Rodriguez waiting for him on the porch. He had a baseball bat in his hand and a shirt with no sleeves and dirty jeans and he scowled in a way that looked very dangerous.

‘Hey,’ he called to Larry. ‘You spray my dog?’ Larry didn’t say anything, and just stuffed the letters and bills, mostly bills, into the mailbox. ‘Hey, I’m talking to you!’ said John, raising his bat a few inches. ‘You spray my dog?’

Larry nodded. ‘I sprayed a cane corso,’ he said. ‘It was loose.’

‘Listen fucker, don’t you ever lay a hand on my dog again,’ said John.

‘Keep her inside,’ said Larry. 

‘What did you say to me, bitch?’ John was stepping forwards now holding the bat like a war axe. 

‘I said keep her inside,’ Larry repeated, showing John his bit hand. John stopped and stared at the blood. ‘Animal control is already looking. Keep her inside where she’s safe and they won’t find her.’

John’s face went through patterns of realization and fear and anger and understanding and gratitude and back to anger. ‘They better not,’ he said, pointing with his wooden bat. ‘She’s a good dog.’

Larry stepped on the gas. ‘Aren’t they all,’ he muttered. He still had Tulip Avenue.[/hider][hider=Fool's Dilemma]By [@PlatinumSkink].

“I need your help.” Roland told his archenemy, glaring angrily at him. They stood at the fork in the road, where both of them were headed in the same direction but had come from different ones.

“And what makes you think I would ever help you?” Terran asked him back, pointing a rapier at him and was wrapped in blue cloak intended to cover his identity. His hood had momentarily fallen back at the violent reaction at having seen Roland moments earlier.

Terran had previously been the man who had destroyed Roland’s home. He had set the charges to break a dam which then flooded and destroyed the village in which Roland lived in. His family had died in that flood. Later, Roland had learned that Terran had done what he had done in order to eradicate the criminal base of operations which worked under the village. He had done so at the cost of many innocent lives. After this, Roland swore to bring Terran into custody. They had clashed often in the past, both of them trying to take down the other… Neither had ever succeeded.

However, today, they had need of one another. 

“Because as much as I loathe you, I know we have the same goal in mind.” Roland admitted, his hand on his sword, keeping intention directed at Terran. “We’re both heading for the capital city of Lunaria. There’s only one reason why you’d be heading there.” The blonde man grunted as he saw the point in Roland’s words. And indeed, they could have use of one another.

The Prime Minister of Solian had been kidnapped by the government of Lunaria. As long as he was their hostage, nobody in their own nation could move against them particularly easily without having to forsake the man’s life. If the Lunarians pressed their advantage too far, yes, the Solian government would forsake him, but doing so would be a great shame. As such, both Roland and Terran had thought the same thing. It was simple. Someone simply had to save the Prime Minister. They could do so together, no matter how they felt about each other.

And so they made their strike. Together the two infiltrated the Lunarian castle, seeking the captured Prime Minister. Terran was the expert thief, capable of getting them into the tightest of securities. Meanwhile, Roland was knowledgeable in military workings, therefore could predict where their goals were and how to get there without being detected. Together they worked their way in, seeking their common goal. Their operation took place during a great parade, the civilians and most soldiers of Lunaria were watching or guarding it, in honor of their military accomplishments. It should have been the safest time to strike.

… Something went wrong, however. They did not find the Prime Minister in the prison where they thought they’d find him. He must have been held somewhere more secure. On the way out, they had also mistakenly alerted numerous guards, causing them to have to flee. They did manage to escape unseen, as well as blend into a confused and panicked crowd with the use of one of Terran’s explosives. However, they were caught in a large mass of people that were caught as potential suspects for the culprit behind the explosion, which while it didn’t cause any casualties may have been caused by those who fled the castle. Which they were right about, of course.

Roland now sat back in a cell, staring silently into the floor, feeling hopelessness running through him. Terran had assured him that they’d never be caught, there were too many suspects and he had made sure to lose all their equipment before being caught. Roland did not feel as sure. In fact, he quite quivered as the door opened, and a thin, tall and confident-looking man strode in, wearing an official Lunarian military uniform.

“Ern, was it?” The Lunarian officer repeated his fake name, and Roland nodded a little. The man smirked. “Ah, alright. So you’re the one.” Roland almost recoiled at the sentence. Wh-what? Had something given him away? What was that sentence? Did he know something Roland didn’t? Roland sat absolutely still, trying to not look distressed as the man sat down in a chair on the opposite side of him. The man looked so calm. It was unnerving. Then… he sighed. Roland was surprised. What was that sigh about?

“You know, I need to praise you. You and your friend. Not many would undertake such a journey simply for the good of your own nation. I honestly envy your courage.” He said, leaning on his hand, which leaned on the elbow placed against his chest. Roland stared at him like he had no idea what he was talking about. At least, that’s what he hoped he looked like. “Really, it’s not like I don’t understand what you’re doing. We Lunarians are clearly in the wrong. Kidnapping a Prime Minister…” He sighed, like he regretted it. “Ah, our government is not as proud as it used to be.” Somehow, Roland felt the pain of this officer, and that he wasn’t entirely on his own side. Somehow, Roland felt sympathy for this enemy officer. Of course, they were human too.

“I haven’t told the other guards that I saw that there were two of you, so…” He seemed to consider something, before smiling a bit as he looked at Roland.

“Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal.” The man said, smiling kindly to Roland, who blinked a bit in surprise and looked up at him. “You were obviously here for a good purpose. You’re here to save the Prime Minister, are you not?” Roland stared with focus at him, but didn’t move any muscles that would give away his intention. “While it won’t work to get you both free, if you simply give your testimony that your friend came from inside the castle, we can put the blame on him and you’ll be free to attempt saving the Prime Minister again. It’s too bad about your friend, but in this case, the Prime Minister is more important, right?” Roland blinked in stunned surprise at the kindly smiling man, not believing his ears.

“No? Well, your call. If you don’t, well… Maybe your friend will be more willing to accept the offer.” He said, standing up slowly and turned away from Roland, on the way out of the cell. Inside his head, Roland was working at full throttle. Inside here, neither him nor Terran would be of any use. However… if he just betrayed Terran… Anyone else and Roland surely have hesitated, but him? Terran was a criminal, a murderer! There was nothing this world would lose by having him behind bars. And, with his sacrifice Roland could go on and make another attempt to save the Prime Minister… Yes. If there was even the slightest bit of possibility that this would aid his mission…

“Actually…” Roland muttered, causing the man to halt in his steps, smirking a bit as he looked back at the now speaking Roland. “I’m pretty sure I saw him. Yeah. There was a blue-clad blonde man that came running from inside the castle. He looked like he was in a hurry, and dropped that explosive behind him, trying to use the panic to blend into the crowd. Most people were distracted by the parade or the explosion, but I saw him…” Roland gave a little unsure smile at the man who had promised his freedom in exchange for this testimony, and the uniformed man smiled back at Roland.

“Alright. Let me see what I can do.” He said, before opening the door and leaving, Roland breathing a little heavily out of the possibility of hope…

… Outside the door, the Lunarian chief of police raised his eyebrows as his master interrogator left the room with the prisoner.

“Not bad. I was just about to let them all go due to lack of evidence.” He said, somewhat in awe at the suggestive capability of the investigator. The investigator smirked, confidently, running a finger along his hairline.

“Don’t underestimate the idiocy of good men.” He answered. “We knew there were two of them and what their goal was. So, it was simply a matter of going through each suspect until we struck gold.” He then directed his eyes to the numerous armed guards standing around inside the cell-area. “… So, what will you do to them now?”

“Well, since you just proved that they were involved in this plot…” The chief of police grinned at the man, making gestures to his guards to kill the prisoners. 


… Later, Terran would be forcing himself into Roland’s cell. He had barely managed to escape as the Lunarian guards had come in, intending to kill him on the spot. He had been fortunate to have had the time to pick his own locks, so he had been able to defeat his executioner and arrive at his enemy turned partner’s cell. However, it turned out that Roland had not been as lucky. Frowning at the disgusting sight, Terran made an annoyed sound before he turned and fled the city, deciding that this venture was no longer worth it.[/hider]
...and we have broken the character limit yet again. The final submission shall be subsequently posted.