Merlin: In the bloom the first of summer's nights flowers and moonlight between the shadows, my vision bending into the shadows thru the darknesses of sight against seeing and fright against fleeing as this horrible place grew cemetery quiet, the dim glow of violets and din flow of violence in the breaths of wolves and men and monstrous breed between them not to be unseen them, their eyes stare thru me shining smiles and desires of tooth and claw in the law of the moonlit forest, how the fates adoreth the forgotten lore and taste of fear in the fair air restored as I saw them.
I so took myself running, like to chase me up a tree I ran the only trail, knowing it a track that two sides would drive me toward as I look forward never back, the trees closer to sounds of my feet closer than imagined as the feet steps pound like my heart natural and normal, the fear of every echo unnatural and abnormal, where monsters too slow the trees growing closer couldn't stand denser were they to grow around me and before they all had found me the men throwing axes hitting tree trunks and breaking branches, with the brush the wolves course faster thru the narrowing escape and with my heartbeat behind me and the emotions starting to blind me I discovered my powers of night and brightness, like daylight shadows likeness did the spark of thunder did my skin glow and gather shadows with my veins did show like patterns in shades of sanity with my sight connected to the four winds of forgotten skies both ancient and forever.
My mind brought me to the sky and I could see the world of night with a crown of sunrise and the cost of time turned vanity into thought as my sight of battle was regained, only to see them enraged and disdained and breaking over themselves with hunger, ready lunging hunched and plunging into laughter mad the same, as my heart devoted to the sky a storm grew into a cloud of daylight and the battlefields of afterlife where swords clash and strike made a ceiling of cloud and lightning rain like thunder and frightening fire as my hands fell to the ground and in the consumption of sound the blue covered brightness burned and turned the ground into a thought of a dream in my command with only one demand, that this power of mind connected to the ends of time would burn my enemies asunder.
As the electricity poured back into the earth and the fires burned all without worth, two undred canine foes were reduced to twenty, the largest of them, the biting breakers of bones in their armors of stone the werewolves of the forgotten world staring at my eyes like suns of a darker world, my grasp of power the fire in my heart, the hold of the fog, and the bones in my fists. Echoes of light, fangs of the fight with waves of fire and blows of power there is tooth and blood and bone, where the standing trees stand stillest as to pardon my skills and cordon the quills and hackles, leaping to tackle my quiet steps and heavy heels and their axes and knives fly, and the living trees my brothers cut and falling pushed aside to take my life, in sight of failure where after only one breath of respite one of them bites me on the arm and I strike him with my knife in the eye, the werewolf laughs and tears my arm under and throws me thudding into the earth.
The pack surrounds watching me grab my bootknives and with arms like snakes and hammers I begin dancing and slashing and swallowing them like graves, ten and one are circled as I scream the white fire of the fallen star and one is flung, the other ten their armor fractured, as they all watch me throw the first blade I take my chance of time after a breath and throw the other into another and we watch two men dirge of death, quick I am I take the blades from the fallen and they of broken armor begin regroup, and the largest point their spears and throw and unable to count them one barely cuts my arm as another pierces my leg.
Never a pain too soon to remember rage burns the last of my magic and the wooden lance falls as a torch to the ground, the old werewolves grunt appeased by a worthy warrior of their time, as my wound seals in the vines of magic veins barely holding me together despite the wicked and the weather having come for me this eve, I throw my knife and it cuts the cheek of the werewolf alpha, and he cuts his other cheek to match it, I waste my time thinking about the past that lead to a moment that I cut my other arm defiantly and with the blood of werewolves reliantly accursed like the histories aversed of menageries arcane alchemy contained the curse of wolf and man and gave me power and there I open my smile and grasp and dropped my knife and fought them to death for my life with my bare hands, which then below the stars I ate the hearts of wolves and in the sky looked for the beginning of time...
...Sorry I'm late.
Nick: It's fine. I came from there, you go that way, and I'll go yours, let's see if we can't shake things up.
Merlin: What chased you?
Nick: Ghouls. Yours?
Merlin: Werewolves.
Nick: ...erhhh, graces, whatever.
Merlin: Your idea.
Nick: Yeah, no, luck.
/...