Annuvian Mist

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. 

/...

Æh'lla Temarh

The Nightmirror - Æh'lla Temarh

This accidental second place in race against the seconds, a power that can't be bought, wasted describing a light that makes the sun seem cold. With shadows echoing and darkness sending dreams in war with stars, but echo collapsed the many darknesses and one unto the next the quintessential doors of perception fell into frame, collapsing stratos structure pentagram the architecture of five archways became illumination and gateway, the Æh'lla Temarh.

1-Whispering Flowers
Three moons of red and white and red the likes of shadows soft and high above the moonlight paths, staring at morose verdant grass, the blades without sway holding the dew while threatening the afterglow. Shining glitter drops across field fallow and edge of frost where the circles of moons soon followed each other than passers by the tide of dark ocean air distant from the valley, where the tally of footsteps are forty six and two, and two, and two…the crickets from the thickets or the easy breeze or the snap of twig and thatching from the woods stares back at me. The whispers behind me and everywhere I see, the thunder in the distance, the sleeping leaves on guarding trees, intent to listen where bright darkness takes curiosity there is a song of petals in imagination that tells as much as rain, but at the sudden loss of fear completely lost in trust, certain everything is nothing wide awake I fall asleep in the road beneath my feet. Kneeling as if into a bed, in my head a need and indeed I’m clawing at the dry soil as if falling from a dune, and in soon of sundry sunder comes thunder of men and beast.

2-The Silent Moon

My feet are bound to a rope and a tarp that drags beneath me dragging, crags and gravel grinding, against my skull the stones reminding little choice but pain and waking, and their gentle time are taking, twenty less than men and more than wolf, whose sight in passing see me laughing at my trappings only a web of dreams can make. So they take to stopping thusly and in my eyes inspect and push my face to see my teeth, my fear is confusion their amusement is my status less than pet. They sit like dogs and haunches quick to rest on their spots in hunches bothered not, to such their leader rises on four pawed limbs not quite standing making whispery demands at the moon in sounds like “draeull, lsevi, aeihlluei, iq ahofvi ea,” but the moment returned the thoughts of the moon, mind of madness wars of sadness as the colors moved the world, shelves of hillside slide like rivers of spectral diamonds while thoughts from marrow self-consume, a soured nepenthe, followed by the first moment of sanity described in panic as tragedy or the screaming hells full of snakes of trees. Again the werewolf speaks at the lunar deities, “el minur, roraed, ihrhueit’d, oaurr’iq’ae,” one of the moons seems to be different and fall asleep while the waves of moonlight crashing against my mind, and the beast turns to his pack, now standing tallest “arr’um” he yells, “Reimnae,” and another of the larger rises to marching orders, “ejh, Esova,” to superior, and to Reimnae the order was given, “arr’omni,” which is order to hit me on my head.

3-Ship of Shadow
I pretend to sleep as my eyes open, dragging along a black river with fighters readying for a fight, I can’t tell the rise and set of moons if closer day or growing night, and now sounds of waves from an ocean of darkness, moonlight in the echoes of contrast where glimmering shadows and glowing sea floor insulate the world from the passing stormclouds. It’s not an ocean but a swamp with tide with vines thinning at the shore and in the distance giant spines of beasts that came before as mountains waiting for the rise of the black sun. In the vast swamp of rivers a small boat of black steel and obsidian with sails of black raven and red raptor feathers and I am sold to sailors three.


4-The Voyager’s Birch
This river runs slow and the vines crawl looking for ground and ghouls to nourish the vast wasteland of moss and black roses. One of the vines grows toward the ship, as water turns red aside the vine a sailor shoots an arrow a single time, missing completely the vine almost whips to coil around it, hoping it would pull it free it crushes to consume, and in the arrow a single seed to grow a birch that thrives on the cursed water. The white bark cracks as it grows new leaves and moves almost as fast as if were living to fight the vines from beneath the moss filled sea. We watch as it grows and stops the vine, but from behind another holds its feet forcing roots to dig deep for water to grow and making it slow, as it is torn in two as if the swamp was looking inside it, only to discard it. Another vine, another seeded arrow, again.

5-The Edge of the Snake
The sky grows light and shines thru the clouds as they drag boat onto yellow sand, but dark clouds recover control and day becomes shade, the sand is soft and light beneath my feet as they make we walk across it. Ahead and around are jagged edges of broken paper lanterns, farther not lanterns but husk, farther still not husk but molted snakeskins. We come to the ruins of an ancient city of stones and hallways whose canvassed windows have turned to dust and wooden roofs decay to kindling, filled with curious holes at walls and floors where snakes come to observe only to be hunted by others. Sight thru window of bones whole families now dining skeletons with plates of bones and many floors with long empty grain sacks. They throw me at the feet of the crown serpent king, a patient squinting man with scales like fingernails from hand to head as armor of white tiles.

6-Dying in the Souls
The serpent king whispers, “aerraekhielhoan,” and the few tiny serpents scatter, in their stead two guards with smaller beaded younger scales bring a prisoner out, cutting her restrains and unmasking her, tossing her at them they all run from the desert castle without regret. I stare at the reptilian king, unblinking, tilted stare and jilted guards who leave us to wonder willingly who the villain is in each other’s story, his fork tongue tastes the air and fear makes me run, colliding in corridors at each turn, taking a torch that doesn’t burn to swing as he finds me. Clubbing him does little and none and he holds out glass sphere, a yellow eye much larger than his. I run and he catches me with clawed hands, like thorns stabbing tearing my arm and chest and throws me to the ground to rest. What could be a smile and this laughing reptilian foe rolls the eye to me and shreiks “dinnra-aenne'ssiuhj”

I wake in the throne of the moon in the forgotten city holding the eye, tasting the air, checking my scales for flaws, and hear the wailing battlecry of a cat echo over the ruins of stone. A tale that swaggers counting methods of attack as it breathes before pouncing as I dodge before running back. Across the discarded sands, thru the bleeding swamps over the heart of darkness, into the forest of werewolves. I dash at the ornate obsidian mirror in the road, in a new world the pentatonic gate closes and breaks into five meaningless objects, but I am still a new beast with magic eye in a world of humans who are to have seen their first.


/6ch /mjbanks

M363 + Shadow of a Soul

Merlin + 3:63 + Shadow of a Soul

Close to ground of stone and soil is a fog thinner than whisper, enough that dew drops permeate the slope of a moonlit mountainside, the basin of bog and willows a valley of purity and moonlight, as stars and ethereal sky cover everything aside a tall and endless spine of mountainous ridge that distantly bifurcates many times with the great triumvirates of mountain, mystery, and night. Calm and quietus as her mighty egret carries Kylesa Mara above reflective ponds, in air it knows not day or night, the phoenix and rider Troy wait for her near the summit where the dins of battle cannot yet be heard, for this is the side of peacefulness where reflection of light from white feathers glows into his much radiant eyesight. In the same moment the avian opens for her landing beneath its wings faintly echoes the sound of conflict.

O’er the mountain, its other side much darker, the moon hangs as an angle of it, to look downward at the sight of dangerous edges and hidden mosses, dark shadows beneath each crag and jagged spiny scale of the granite, filling age-long cracks with weeds to blindly pull in disaster. This ground to climb unwelcoming by the blindfolded enemies and worse by the moonlight making villains into werewolves only on the heads of boulders, making them targets to the eyeless on the shadow-stricken rise. If not a werewolf oneself, imagine wounds that only heal in moonlight as Sino’s army attacks. Never slipping they slash at beasts who can pull into shadows to hide in mortality, dragging their wounded into being surrounded where the advantage is to the servants of the moonlight, and in this conflict even the men with the scarves on their eyes are still human, their stamina tested and having rested, despite the artifacts of protection to thicken skins or kindle dark magic’s purest sins, agility of foot and speedily stepping on the fallen as if the night ground were memorized.

A few torches lay aground strewn, flickering firelights against their faces distracted, a howl behind a stone from wounded hybrid without his moonlight magic, he is alone and restless, and then he is surrounded, but he smiles with bloodied face, for they are the surrounded. The mountainside is indolent and quiet as it swallows desolate echoes with fog and grass.

Werewolves feeding in the distance on the guards of the mountain, at their boundary new screams for new blood for new feeding rites of passage and power of healing, as the last man leaves the shadows for the passing moonlight he becomes a stoic wolf and feeds on the cursed.

A distant darkness serves silent footsteps where the earth sleeps, the trees hold their breath in fear of dropping leaves in her presence, Lilith, the first bloodborn, walks thru shadows like withering waves up the mountain, she is invisible in the moonlight and silent in darkness to the blindfold-men, a face of rage she does not blink. Her path is purposed and clear, passing by fighters for the violence, as blood familiar and new sprays into the wind, the bloodshed sprays on her face and lips is the smell in the air and taste on her fingers as her eyes become night.

As the night builds to crash across the sunset valley behind the other side of the mountains, the many caverns are a contrast of torches and inescapable blackness, where we find Sino balancing both, torch in left hand, a potion in the other that swirls three dark colors, his hand trembles, his eyes frenetic like panicked sleep as he drinks it. He calms unnecessarily, with eyes closed he hears the coven footsteps of intruders and digs his heels turning in the dirt.

The sound of a growing stormy sky becomes one with clashing steel and shield, a fist strikes a claw. Sino puts the necklace received from Belladonna around his wrist, firmly but cautious of the tunnel exits. Vampires approach the cavern, silent steps carrying sternly carried leather armor and the occasional scar, emptying themselves slowly into the open.

Uriel: Do – not – walk more!
Sino: A command… …by f* who…?
Vermillion: I am Vermillion.
Sino: How colorful.
Vermillion: I’ve come for the blood of traitors.
Sino: You’ve come for the blood of the undead?
Vermillion: Have you cheated death?
Sino: So many this day could be the anniversary of it. Have I cheated you?
Vermillion: If I find you’ve granted a stay to my betraying minions, so you have.
Sino: Their crime?
Vermillion: Stealing an immortal not theirs.
Sino: Tall like a corn stalk, funny even with a dagger in his heart?

Ana cries with her heart of fear and soul of desperation loudly from the next room.

Ana: I KNOW OF WHERE THEY ARE, THEY TOOK ME FROM HIM, THAT MONSTER BETRAYS YOU IN THIS MOMENT, I WILL TAKE YOU TO THEM!
Sino: You are many and this is your mountain, search it readily, but my guest, she won’t be taken.
Vermillion: Why wait to stop us…. (smile)….no dragon, Sino?
Sino: To hell with you!

Sino raises his hand and the green magic of the stone covers them, a pain and anguish as many escape others suffer verdant fire making them claw at the ground. Sino’s soldiers run into the cavern beginning to help him stab the accursed.

Blindfolded Man (Velen): Wolves attack, we are losing our numbers!
Sino: Dammit!

Sino puts his hand to the blind-soldier’s chest, the heart slows then stops. The blind soldier feels cold, green magic thunders thru him appearing as a green vapor warmth.

Sino: Vimond, you are my greatest soldier, but you will only survive if others die.
Vimond: I understand, I will destroy what I see.

The blindfolded soldier leads others toward vampires within the tunnels, Sino looks at his own hand to see it glow, the radiance courses into him and his eyes cloud, the soldier he touched runs with a fainter aura than the rest.

Vermillion walks around looking at things in the high-mountain dungeon and reminiscing at the walls, the blindfolded soldier that Sino had touched charges at them, but they the vampires are too skilled to defeat, almost taunting the blind, but refuse to fight the soldier without a heartbeat, shunned from conflict and outright ignored.

As the vampire monarch taps his finger on something, the blind-soldier wanders at the sound of the ticking dethklok, the vampires are confused by the fading heart and dragging feet, stumbling toward their monarch in timeless fashion, but with a failing heart falls forever short.

Vermillion: I guess his heart wasn’t in it. 

/ mj.banks / 

Merlin 3x62 Bound by the Moon

M3:62 / Bound by the Moon / mjbanks

I.
Merlin cordons his waist and runs into a glide for a horse into the city without explaining, chasing to catch the danger at the cost of scant consent. Braden’s fellow of the earth magic, Digr, raises his hand beckoned by the trail and pointing as to find it, he and Braden’s troupe as if reluctant begin to follow. Sino knows he is to be trailed and takes a bottle of lantern fuel and pours it on himself and Ana, she smells her hands, realizing what it is and using the magic of fire makes it explode, but to merely aggravation of Sino he knocks her out, again. He throws another bottle at a man on the road then holds a sword outward at the man, smiling with vicious grin, a quiet ride, seemingly without hurry.

II.
The light of sunset and rising moon, the heat growing humid in the foothills of the nearby mountain as the other side’s mist rolls over its top. The werewolves track Sino’s scent until finding lantern oil in its stead, and that smell to a man on the roadside. One beast throws a stone into dead leaves and branches, another howls deeply into the sky above the clouds, from the fire Lilith rises elevated.

Wolvic: We’ve lost his scent with this man and lantern fuel.

Lilith takes the man by his hair and bites into his throat, with blood his primordial memories, then dropping him down.

Lilith: Follow the fuel up the mountain, now.
Wolvic: But the moon is dying, the turn is blind to darkness.
Lilith: I AM darkness behind you if you don’t get up that mountain!

III.
Sino drags her into the mountain as if a light bag of wool by her arm.

Sino: My oath to Merlin, you will understand, burns in the great darkness, I am warmth to the blind, seeing my reflection in axes sharp and hammers dull.
Ana: (waking) …in the darkness, we celebrate our joys, appreciating them not for granted what simple blessings others forbid, in day honest, thieves celebrate themselves without satisfaction, standing stormy night where there are cries and echoes, we are lightning and thunder.
Sino: Quote the book all you wish, it does not turn, amongst the humans – with you the page will turn, soon this old story will be ended.

Soldiers in blindfolds approach them.

Ana: To play with fire, first dance with smoke.
Sino: But there are no stars burning in the cursed sky.
Ana: Was it raining blood?
Sino: Secure her, there is little time before the dawn eclipse. Without moons or stars she cannot waste the strength that keeps the child.
Ana: You’ll burn for this.
Sino: That, is, the plan.
Ana: I’m going to burn your bloody marrow while you’re still using it!
Sino: No, you will help me to the surface of this present darkness.

The blinded are guarding Ana.

IV.
In the tunnels two of the blindfolded patrol for intruders, amidst a conversation. (required spell: night vision)

Ciego: So, she puts a paring knife to the fruit and nobody moves.
Aveugle: But if he’s made of stone, how is it a damage point?
Ciego: Because stones melt into lava in a volcano.
Aveugle: Yeah, but fresh obsidian melts steel so it doesn’t make any sense.

The warriors of Fortress Vermillion hear the story thru the dark, seeing as if lit brightly, the sentries see them all but soon enuf, one of them captured, the other killed.

King Vermillion: She survives as a flame survives a candle. How many others are you?
Ciego: I cannot see you, my guide into the light, will you help me to the surface of this darkness?
Vermillion: He is blind.

The king’s Lt, Artemis, almost drinks the blind one’s blood, but the king prevents it.

Vermillion: Both blind, both careless, Artemis, take this one to the fortress abattoir for a priest’s interrogation.

King Vermillion moves deeper into the darkness with others following, he drags his fingers across the rough granite wall.











~mjbanks

Merlin 3:61 Love in a Burning Building

M 361: Love in a Burning Building

Lilith: Having fun, Merlin?
M: We never really get to enjoy burning cities too often!
L: I’m sorry, I was too busy talking to trees!
M: If I wasn’t wasting time succor to the demons!
L: I can’t hear you, I’ve been waxing poetic, bloody stupid namesake cambion!
M: If you weren’t so imprudent, you’d know the difference between rack-rent cajolery and portents of fate!!
L: You would, too!!

His hands and arms bloody she flies across the ground at him and shoves him thru a fiery wall into a scorching building. Wrestling in a pile of embers, they see amicable smiles on each other’s faces and begin to free themselves, she bites his wound and wipes the wound from his skin, the bloodstains on his arms become ashes in radiance of his tattoos now wrapped around her waist, a black tongue licking the blood from her fingers he is healed, the fire heats to slow rises and waves of sunset, her hair glows red and gold as her shadow hides him from incineration with diamond eyes.

Other buildings stand strong, raging hearts calm, a quiet soul excites, and many warriors check their wounds.
Agnar, giant, checks his bruises as a rare case for him to have any, as Jonak, hexer, wraps his own hand. Braden and Katina, shockers, take a seat and wait for Merlin.

Kat: Odd they socialize like that way. Why is that?
Brad: I don’t know; I think it’s exciting.

Kat punches him in the arm. There is dialogue and exposition among minions.
Nick, deathless, runs into the scene faster than his feet, the gravel rolls beneath his shoe tips as he turns corner, to save Merlin from the burning building, assumption of danger, but Belladonna, plaguer, stops him.

B: You can’t.
N: I’ll stop her and save him!
B: Everything is fine.
N: Nothing is fine! Move!

Belladonna doesn’t move and Nick collides with her to ground, enough that she poisons him in her defense, but her newly strengthened and uncontrolled powers poison him severely, as he falls she attempts to reverse his new death and cannot, his veins blackening roots, hardened tearing thru him as he struggles.

Belladonna: Somebody help him!
Agnar/Braden/Katina/Jonak: He’ll live.

Nick resumes from essence, taking energy from the fires Merlin and Lilith nestle with themselves and smile overly happy, she rises as Nick sneaks thru the rubble, already known by her she hears a first footstep and a second foot twist on the ground, but before Merlin and Nick can communicate, the burning building collapses on the three.

Lobo: He doesn’t know?
Braden: He doesn’t know.

Nick exits in trauma come rage as he crawls from rubble and ember, coughing thru the smoke from his clothes, egregious scars of burning heart and emotion, now in livid accost ire precious little restraint, standing before Lilith wrapping sooty cords around burnt linens, as does Merlin in standing beside her. He realizes they are not enemies, nor the salvation affordable only to Ana, immolator, captured by Sino.
Nick runs again, this time stealing a sword and cutting a horse from wagon to pursue, shouting back at the crew hauling the blade.

N: He has Ana – I run him down – with or without you!
L: AFTER THEM AND YOU’RE DRAGON FOOD IF YOU LOSE HIM!

The wolf-men run toward the end of the city, howls gather beasts in entourage into the sea hills to the sound of tears of those who’ve survived, the hooves of horses of Braden’s impromptu cavalry, and flames that toss like ship sails as Lilith escapes Merlin thru a wall of fire into another dimension of black fire and winds of darkness.

/ch

Las Guerras Tinieblas

Darkness and the flowing water, a current and cascade of noise so constant it seems forgotten, the sound of pressurized hydraulic machinery releases a burst of gas unlocking several large bolts one by one, air exits the doorway and an a shadowy figure enters thru it and approaches a much larger bolder shadow-outlined man. 

Master

What news bring you that none will speak? 

Messenger

Many breaking at point of force that met the translucent at the dawn.

Master

Make sure they have to be their wisest forge and make them allied by the nearest animal regiment. 

Messenger

Sure as so, but the nearest breach of they duty bound by westerly a two phase sight. 

Master

How make for sign is the widow wall, can they be given one returned?

Messenger

Sure as so, my shadow, but destined will and have for known at the transparencies numbered, fighting be, for a skirmish as the red waters of the balanced, the many heads on the shore. 

Master

By an imbalance of their account this to it I'm sure. 

Messenger

As so, and yet your kin, ....the

Master

Soon defeated, to match my heart. 

Messenger

The, soon defeated, by numbers merely missing and not by, the count is blind.

Master

Then digging graves looking down fly the cemetery, or you will sow what they reap. 

Messenger

These are not told by the other voice to tell you naught they are likely here. 

Master

You could've led with that, what is wanted? 

Messenger

Missing is the report, not made, not relayed. 

Master

Bade make worry tales will hurry alacrity, if not for this darkness, accursed darkness. 

Messenger

Forgivances, my shadow, lost at the borderlands by swimming beneath the grass. 

Master

With the humans? 

Messenger

Yes, with the humans, my shadow, soon as so, would that it were. 

Master

Send half of the oldest wave at the demons in the sunset region, do by time what showing their tallest make to figure behind a closed tribe, closed mind you. 

Messenger

Say what make I at our fangs, my shadow? 

Master

Counted, ...and I will count them approached I. There will be a mirror by the voicing animal.

Messenger

To voice?

Master

To have voiced made so when they finish digging, I will bring them what I find to plant. Maybe then will they remember my promise. Then reflect with mine, we might see each other in this darkness by makings done. Go now, relay. Until there is light. 

Messenger

Until there is light. 

\\\

\

M359: The Serpent Servant

M359: The Serpent Servant

Kylesa hurries herself into a building and urges the scared languescents to exit while there is vacant opportunity to flee and before the undead swarm them, they languidly leave their confines following to sudden swarm and are overcome. Sino watches Troy use his surroundings in leverage and springs from impossible distance swift and flighty, comparative to fain glory and realization commemorate, he sees Troy’s magic and gives himself into thought.

A powerless rise for any mischievant, doted by the soulless wanderers staring on Lilith in her glory, wandering malaisant extático and like them hoping the next hexed she seeks presents itself to its execution.

The phoenix begins to nest as saturnine in slumber while the bodies continue mounting consumed by walking into scoria and becoming ashes. In arginine ash it cools and continues to tire, the roaming shells of lives fuel an onset regeneration dilemmatic, Merlin shouts to Troy thereto the leaping rider startles phoenix into motion and thereof depart leaving Merlin at a defenseless start against urgent horde.

Several lengths of distance separated, Merlin enters the street facing Sino, as buildings burn do others cinder by the waves, of twilight approaching do walls buckle as embers rumble do crematories crumble, by a tufted billow of black smoke Sino disappears. In a ginnel passage, Sino finds two things, an exit and Ophiuchus drinking blood with a gaze and from a neck that are broken, silently standing drops the body and approaches him.

Oph: Nothing has changed, master Sino.

Sino pushes his hand to his chest and him to the wall.

Sino: Remember that.

Oph shakes him loose and walks onto the chaos. Sino places his hand on a corner beam of a building and closes his eyes, he lifts his hand and departs a glowing handprint, steadily the glow becomes a fire. r

The rain keeps the fire from leaping to and between rooftops, but there is a subtle resonance to the embers of remaining fires. Dour muddied vampires find Mara in the street, watching her walk backwards from the onslaught of infected, ignorant to her guise they pause as she flees.

Werewolves rush toward the vampires only to search thru the bodies and fell the infected, they turn quickly toward the vampires, readily armed to defend themselves but slowly exiting they point to where Mara has run.

Troy: Werewolves, what do they want?
Kylesa: Let’s not soon learn how so.

They aim arrows at wolves climbing walls, but there are others whom attack before arrows fly. They have leapt and pinned both Troy and Kylesa to the rooftop, learning their scent.

Lupirion: Stay still.
Canaris: This smells of Sino – get tell the huntress!
Troy: Had we, just, a tale of conflict.
Canaris: Simple boy

A short laugh, smells again, she trembles.

Canaris: This is not the stench of conflict. Go!

Berserkers depart. Sincerely she screams.

Multifarious contempt for decency, Sino continues collapsing buildings with rage and fire, over and thru flames of walls and rising ruble, trapping Merlin into an arena enclosed with the serpent servant.

Ophiuchus, flippant by hunger of vengeance only looks forward, Merlin steps behind him, his raised hand near the villain’s shoulder begins to glow, by the time Oph turns, noticing the light, Merlin triggers a large explosion of blue fire, harmless to himself, yet throwing Oph many measures.

Oph stands with esoteric time enough to be without words. The hole in his leather almost as wide as his back he discards his vestments of robe and jacket, his skin sheds slightly over the burn, the body long possessed slumped and lethargic is now mightily robust, muscles of rage and carrying the tempo of a steady heartbeat in his veins occasionally, a snake swims under his skin, as the snake passes under the back the skin heals. His eyes roll into his head.

Oph: This doesn’t begin to scratch the surface of my power.
M: Not your usual self?
Oph: Yes, waste your time –

Sino spying the battle decides to leave at first sight of conflict, one of the wolfmen running pushes him over a walkway thru a ceiling into a burning building.

Angered into alertness, Sino cracks his knuckles with fists and begins punching one as more crawl for entry. Three against one in close burning quarters, he hits each opponent with swift force, missing a swing he is hit twice before regaining defense before renewed attack, each strike missed he is struck twice over the same. His attack skill is double two of theirs, but his defense is the same as each by scale of one. His dexterity is less than theirs as they ascertain his stamina and begin to gnarl him, as they must face a black flame magic from his blood there is an evolving rage of fire and beast.

M: What hast Sino durst to thee to make my opponent?
Oph: Much that I must, little that I dare.
M: I’m sorry, but people change.
Oph: You don’t recognize me?
M: Should I?
Oph: You know me. I first took a boy to such not only did you steal my lunch, but you twisted me in the wind and left me in a road wrought of my essence.

Merlin’s face loosens to ponder, his head tilts to memory, of trees and winds of distant clouds.

Oph: Shedding skin having hunted you in a city with a disturbing amount of twins, I sought revenge, not supper, you then chopped me with a scabbard blade, almost killing me. Do you remember it?

A memory of soldiers and gallows of dusty roads.

M: You!? Perhaps I should burn you out!
Oph: You dare!

Sino fights the last of aggrieved three, despite bleeding arms and neck. But for battered across midsection, screaming with every shock by the time, he overcomes the final werewolf. The wolves’ hearts outward tears he while almost laughing. Squeezing the blood from a werewolf heart over his head and face he hears shouting from beyond the burning room.

Oph: Fallen, devoted, devour the burning world!

The dead that have risen focus on Merlin, in a gust of wind the proxy of foes tumble and theretofore the ghouls upon him, his hands glow and electricity leaps between his fingers and with their skulls in his hands.

Ophiuchus gradually steps rarely blinking. His host’s eyes are dullening and dry, sullen and red around edges, his tongue flickers mindless with each thought. The dead risen rise yet again, from floors they are bloody, from rubble they are dusty, from fire they are burning, walking toward Merlin who strikes them with his magic. They amass as he swings chairs, commotion brings him to hold a table top as shield only to kick it against a grouping of swarthy several and a bygone burner bashing a bottle of booze to burn them all and raise the acrid flames toward the gods. Forcedly, he jumps thru flames landing to surprise of a knife wound to arm from foe. He sends Ophiuchus to the wall with wind and rescinds the penetration.

The mist becomes light rain pouring enough cloud-cover to allow unnerving twilight.

Oph: I grow tired. Do you feel like dying quickly, Merlin, or should I torture you first?
M: I do appreciate such good timing. It’s good to have choices.
Oph: I think we all do.

Agnar, who some would say is twice the size of Ophiuchus’ host, picks him upward and throws him outward, but he will not be thrown easily, grasping at the sleeves he falls into the base of a wall that buckles, the fire has taken its roof and the rain taken the flames, but the center is a furnace. Ophiuchus digs feet running into the wall’s main beam making it topple onto Agnar. As he avoids fire flourishing and more of the insatiable dead, Agnar pulls himself from the rubble.

Agnar: Clip his wings!

Merlin attacks before the dead find him, thirteen exchanged punches and Merlin breaks Ophiuchus’ hand, he sets the bones and continues fighting.

M: Let’s break something else.

A hammering swing of anger starts eleven more and breaks the same arm, the limb straightens with his sign of pain.

Oph: Why are you so difficult!?

Seven more and he breaks the other arm, but Ophiuchus continues fighting, lame swings and shoving, a head-butt to weak effect.

M: Now I see your final moments.
Oph: I’m slowing you down, right where I want you, give up while you can.

Five absurd swings and he wrenches his foe’s shoulder.

M: What good would come in efforts just.

Three terrible struggles and Merlin kicks the knee to buckle bringing Oph to the ground.

Oph: This isn’t over.
M: Yes, it is… …into the moonlight.

Merlin snaps Ophiuchus’ neck, his body falls surfeit.

Agnar unburies himself by throwing the stones of the wall at the undead, Jonak arrives and cuts his own hand with a knife and speaks a terrible sound.

Jo: Give your hearts to me.

The undead begin tearing out their hearts and offering them to Jonak as they fall around them with black and blood hearts rolling. As Merlin attends to Agnar, Belladonna walks with pestilential fog beside her, she sees the snake master slither from the mouth of the body, to stop it she creates walls of fog to confine its direction. The smoke pains the snake and it moves faster until at the feet of Lilith who takes it between her claws.

Lilith: All this from a familiar…

She examines it squirming, biting her to no affect.

Lilith: I hope it was worth it.

She tilts her head and eats the snake, her eyes begin to close and she moans with a hundred voices, her eyes roll white as the ground and nearby buildings shake.

Lilith: Bittersweet.