Thursday, May 1, 2014

A: Ch. 10.1




Chapter X

“Stop pouting. This is what happens when I get bored.”
“There was no reason to push him like that. You could have seriously injured the girl.”
“Yes… the girl…”
“Not to mention the harm you inflicted on Evelynn.”
“Rubbish. That hag is too sensitive. It’s not like I was exposing her hidden sanctuary to the very people that destroyed it. She cries too much. She’s really obnoxious, Brother.”
“Aru—“
“Silence. The girl is waking. I need to see her reaction, and more importantly, what she saw.”
“What she saw? She saw the Lycaon, as you wanted her to.”
“As you say.”

The soft splattering of raindrops bouncing noisily was the first thing to rouse her from a numbing, dreamless sleep. The cold attacking her skin hit her next, followed by the horrible aching throb behind her eyes.
Why was her head so sore? Her tongue felt thick and fuzzy, as if it had been ages since she last used it. She swallowed hard, but her throat was swollen and prickly. Everything tasted of smoke and ash.
Ash? Why did that thought set off a clattering of alarm bells in her mind? Why was it so difficult to remember? Confused and disoriented, the Lieutenant tried to pry open her eyes.
“Careful, now,” a familiar voice said. It permeated the air and struck her ears like a piercing arrow. Of all the times! Why did the bloody General have to be in her bedroom?
But she wasn’t in her bedroom. It didn’t rain in her quarters. She was outside.
Raking her tongue over her teeth and desperate to decipher what had happened, Kya propped herself up, blinking away crusty goop and tears from her eyes. Her head panged in protest, so she stopped, barely raising herself up more than a few inches.
“What…?” Kya asked. Her voice was raspy and hardly recognizable to even her own ears. The girl looked around, trying to take in the scene. Bramble and the General’s horse were nearby—she didn’t have the mind to remember his name. The sky was dull and monotonously grey as it dribbled fat droplets of rain around their camp.
A camp, then? When did they start traveling? Kya looked around, noting that Hilt was seated unnecessarily far away from the small fire. His eyes were weary with dark circles beneath them, yet very concerned. It was a strange expression, much like you would see from a terrified child caught in the act of stealing some sweets.
General Noden was staring at her with fierce determination, yet Kya could not understand why. She tried to piece together everything she could remember. She had gone to see Master Silae and he gave her the small bag. She had taken it to the stables and ensured that all her packs were organized and Bramble’s saddle oiled and fit for a long journey. Then she went to bed.
And then she awoke to smoke.
A whirlwind of frantic, jumbled memories attacked her mind in a flurried onslaught. Panic consumed every other crevice, eliminating any room for pain or reason. Kya was suddenly on her feet, flailing as a tight blanket had impeded her desperate desire to escape. She stumbled, her heart stammering so loud she could hear nothing else.
Her foot caught on something and she hurtled back toward the ground only to be snatched back upwards by a strong, solid arm.
“Stop!” Hilt roared, pulling her upright and trying to pin her arms at her side.
“Let go!” Kya screamed, tugging, pulling, scraping and kicking everything she could. Hilt seemed torn between keeping her close so she couldn’t escape yet far enough to avoid her scratching claws.
Kya used this to her advantage, quickly seeing an opening and leaping upon it. Instead of pulling away, the girl quickly lurched forward, darting swiftly underneath Hilt’s arm and dashing away from his grasp.
“Kya—stop!” Hilt called, turning quickly to go after her. But Kya was already gone. She had to go. Fast. Faster than ever before.
She ran to Bramble. The pony scampered back, nervous from the scuffle. No saddle, only a bridle and harness. No reins. That would have to do. Kya catapulted herself onto the small horse’s back just as Hilt caught up with her.
Eyes. Eyes like nothing she had ever seen. A figure enshrouded by purple mist with a wicked grin of brilliantly sharp teeth. The memory latched onto her mind, blocking all other senses and movements. It was crippling, petrifying. What had she seen? Nothing in this world had ever created such numbing, impervious fear. Not even the man-beast that had just grasped hold of her pony’s harness.
Kya sat upon her darling Bramble, panting heavily. Her legs were clutching the pony’s back, her fingers trembled and turned white as she squeezed the pony’s mane. She stared at Hilt. She was acutely aware of each hair on her arms as it slowly stood on end as well as trickling sweat that mixed with rain upon her brow.
“Stay away from me,” Kya whispered. She was shocked she said anything. She had expected them to stay locked in a battle of stares for all eternity. To be frank, she would have been fine with that.
Hilt glared at her, but Kya did not flinch. “I need you to listen to me,” he said. “What you saw—“
“What I saw was what you truly are,” Kya growled. Her voice was shaking, but she ignored it. “You’re a monster, a demon, a cursed beast designed by Aru’mat the Baleful himself to live a torturous life on this world.”
A shiver crawled down Kya’s neck as she heard a distant cackle.
Hilt clenched his teeth together, though he appeared to hear nothing. Kya must have imagined it. “If you would just listen—“
“To more of your lies?
“Lies?” Hilt asked, smirking. This infuriated Kya.
“Cress tried to warn me! He told me that you were a monster. And here I was defending you at the castle! And after everything that I saw… I’ve been a fool for ignoring it for so long!” A sickening twist tugged at Kya’s stomach as she remembered coming upon Vawl, the corpses lying about, tortured and dissected in a variety of perverse fashions. And Cress… For the second time, Kya felt the lump form in her throat. Cress was dead. He was in the castle. She saw it collapse. There was no way he could have escaped. Her lungs ached and tears prickled at her eyes. They did not fall.
It appeared that Hilt saw this lapse into silence as acceptance of the situation.
“What you saw at the castle was not something that I planned on showing you,” Hilt said calmly, though Kya noted that his grip on Bramble’s harness grew stronger, as if he feared her sprinting off into the forest. To be fair, she was still considering it.
“Let go of my horse,” Kya ordered.
“No,” Hilt responded. “I still need you to take me north.”
“And why would I do that?” Kya demanded.
“Your precious Capital is destroyed. Every last man, woman and child was eliminated by that demonic flame which engulfed the castle. No building stands. No life remains save for some rice patties and a few stables of horses. You have nowhere else to go. As your position requires, you are to go to the royal family and report the status of the Capital. As I recall you telling me, your precious King Yaro is in your northern fortress.”
He was right. That’s where she should go, where she would go if not for him.
“Armies need to be rationed and dispatched while the smaller villages must be evacuated to the bigger cities. You need to move away from the coastlines, into the inner countryside. It’s the only way your country will survive at this point.”
Kya blinked, trying to comprehend the transition Hilt made. He was giving her tactical advice?
“Once Nibheis hears of the fire in the Capital, it will attack from the Ylid Sea, taking Port Herring and Parsear. Nibheis’ navy will destroy your own. If your pluvial nation wants to survive, the people must move inland, as quickly as possible. The only person capable of such a mass relocation is your King.”
Befuddled, Kya tried to understand Hilt’s words. He was trying to help her. Those eyes which had been so intense, so scrutinizing, were round and full of concern. But it didn’t make sense. This was the monster which consumed (Kya felt her stomach wretch at that realization) an entire village because she had touched a nerve by taking his horse.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to break her gaze. She felt a twinge of… acceptance? Belief? She couldn’t pinpoint the feeling. It was strange.
“What are you?” Kya finally asked.
Hilt smirked, loosening his grip on Bramble, but not letting go entirely. “I’m a Lycaon.”
The name seemed familiar, yet she knew she had never heard it before.
“It’s an ancient species that was developed alongside humans, Hafga, and the Watchers. We are opposite the Despearti.”
Hilt lost her entirely and her face obviously showed it. The General shook his head and tugged at the pony that obediently followed him back to the camp.
“You should rest. You hit your head pretty hard, well, several times. I expect you have a concussion. I tried to splint your wrist as I couldn’t completely cushion our fall, but you effectively destroyed it in your escape attempt. You need to stop doing that. It never ends well for you.”
Kya looked at her wrist. It was bruised, swollen and quite tender. The remnants of a makeshift splint were unraveling. She looked at Hilt, confused. What was a concussion?
“How long have I been unconscious?” Kya asked.
“Two days. We’re about half a day’s ride west of the Capital.” Hilt stopped the pony and reached up to help her off. Kya flinched back instinctively.
Surprisingly, the General appeared hurt. He shrugged it off and finally released Bramble before walking back to his distant spot, far from the small fire nearly extinguished from the rain.
Kya paused, contemplating her situation. She could go, right then. It would be difficult without reins or saddle (or even a pack) but she could flee. She felt behind her, instinctively looking for her bow or even her small blade.
“I wouldn’t bother,” Hilt scoffed, watching her. “I took all your weapons. I assumed it would be painful to sleep upon a quiver of arrows.”
Realization hit Kya. “How did we survive that fall? Let alone get our packs and horses! And when I fell from my room—”
“I’ll tell you everything later,” Hilt said wearily, resting against the damp trunk of a tree. “You need to sleep, unless you plan on staying up on that runt.” His shoulders slumped and the lines in his face finally relaxed. It occurred to Kya that Hilt likely hadn’t slept the whole two days.
Slowly, Kya slipped from Bramble’s back. She touched the pony’s neck, appreciating the soothing familiarity of the pony’s fur and bristled mane. She walked, rather awkwardly with stiff steps, back to the makeshift bedroll. It wasn’t until now that she noticed the canopy of evergreens Hilt had tried to make to block her from the rain and keep a fire lit. She had destroyed it in her rampage.
Strangely embarrassed, she settled down on the bed of needles and a wool blanket. She had a right to be upset, right? Then why did she feel like a scolded puppy?
She swallowed hard as the vision of the man on the cliff came back to her. There had been more than one figure there, but her eyes had locked on just that one. Had Hilt seen them, too? He must have, Kya told herself. She just wished she could shake the vision as easily as Hilt seemed to.
The Lieutenant looked at the man as she curled up under the battered canopy. He seemed to accept that she wouldn’t flee as his eyes were already closed and his breathing even. 
Kya prayed for sleep, but as she laid her head down, her vicious mind only greeted her with visions of swirling flames and eyes within the rocks.

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Monday, April 21, 2014

A: Ch. 9.2




He took the form of a man; tall and slender, with rather bowed shoulders. His face was perfectly generic, as if the features could not be distinguished among the various humanoid creatures. The chin was sharp and the cheekbones high, like the Watchers, yet the nose was rounded and upturned, similar to the Hafga. His hair was exceptionally long. It cascaded down past his knees and rippled in an absent and ominous breeze. His silhouette was foggy, as if Lazuris was watching him through a screen of fabric. The edges just weren’t as crisp as they should be.
Lazuris’ darling rarely took such a form. His Karst had always been a sprite or an orb. A human form was cumbersome, she had once told him.
“Darling,” Lazuris whispered, inching back. The immense, oppressive wave of dread clouded his mind. It was viciously familiar as it quickly dragged his memory back to when he had first met the great Aru’mat the Baleful, and then his precious. The vision of flame, the sensation of falling, then emptiness. So empty.
Say nothing,” Karst whispered, her voice twinkling in his ear.
Why are you trying to kill my new host?” Aru’mat asked. His voice was exceptionally deep and it vibrated through the slick rocks. Even Lazuris’ Friends could feel the pulsing power and he felt them recoil in the castle.
A small smile crept along Aru’mat’s face as he too sensed the retreating flames. It was disgusting how much he reveled in his power.
As Lazuris thought this, the Spirit turned his chiseled face to gaze at him. His eyes flashed a vivid amethyst and Lazuris flinched. Another smile, this time with a chuckle. How could Aru’mat have heard him? Unless…
We aren’t killing him,” Karst said calmly from Lazuris’ shoulder. Her crackling feathered wings were gone; her form was only that of a softly glowing orb, like a brilliant marble of starlight.
Then what are you doing?” Aru’mat asked.
We,” Karst paused. Her voice was wary. Even she feared him. “We are testing him, as we were told.”
As you were told,” Aru’mat corrected. “How hard is it to get a single Lycaon to transform into his bestial form?”
“We tried with the—“
“Silence.” He did not scream, nor yell, nor even raise his tone. Even still, the word fell heavy upon their ears. Lazuris could not pry open his mouth, even if he wanted to.
“Of all the species upon this miserable planet, this one is the most predictable,” Aru’mat said calmly. “They are dictated by the prowling animal within them. Though each has a different desire that will satiate such a beast, they all succumb to it regardless of how much they try.”
Why the lecture? Lazuris knew this, of course.
“This one, this… Damien. His own safety is not his downfall, neither is his hunger for flesh. Lust, though it stirred his feral soul, could not change him. Granted, I could have tested that further at the sacrifice of the girl. No, it is something else. Had I been more observant, I would have seen it earlier, isn’t that right, brother?”
Brother? Lazuris glanced up. Ah. So he was here as well.
A young girl with spiraling corn-silk curls crouched just inside one of the many hidden crevices of the cliff side. Her eyes were fixed on the burning castle, tears streaming freely down her face.
Beside her was a young boy, likely no older than ten or twelve in human years. He glowed with a soft gold aura as he tried to comfort the girl. She was cringing away from him.
“Lazuris,” the boy said softly. “If you don’t mind, the flames bother her.”
Aru’mat rolled his eyes, looking rather frustrated. “Why did you bring her?”
“Because she is mine,” the boy responded. He was unaffected by the strange power Aru’mat seemed to have over Lazuris and Karst. 
“She’s pathetic,” Aru’mat snorted.
Taerce ignored him. “Lazuris, if you please?”
The silver-haired stranger nodded slowly, as he still could not speak. He closed his eyes and allowed his fingers of webbed consciousness to extend. His Friends were eager to leave. They feared the Spirit of Shadow and made their escape to burn the city and abandon the scorched and melted castle. Only the embers, the runts that Lazuris could not control, were determined to stay.
Lazuris returned to his own mind to find the boy standing next to Aru’mat.
“Is it so important that he change?” the young boy asked.
“Yes,” Aru’mat said quickly. “I must know what kind of control I can have. I must test his limitations. You know this, Taerce.”
“He is stronger. His weaknesses are fewer than the others,” Taerce told him. The Light Spirit looked out upon the ruined castle, his eyes fixing on the singed and battered pair hiding within the dungeon. “Brother…?”
“Oh,” Aru’mat groaned, obviously bored that he had to notice. He flicked his wrist in the general direction of the Lycaon and the girl. With his excellent vision, Lazuris watched with a sickening anticipation. Would he kill them both on the spot? It would have to be him if he wanted the male as a host.
But nothing happened. If anything, the two simply… stopped.
A crease formed across Taerce’s brow. He seemed concerned about something, yet he remained quiet. But with his abilities, what could he question?
“I want him. Now.” Aru’mat’s voice was firm, yet he crossed his arms across his chest and pouted like a young child.
“Patience, brother,” Taerce tried to say. Aru’mat the Baleful ignored him.
“I want him as a beast. I hate this form. Too constrained, too limited. When I take him, I shall force him to stay that way.”
Taerce frowned. “No, you know the rules.”
“The rules you made.”
Despite the fear that prickled at Lazuris’ neck, he couldn’t help but be fascinated with this pair of brothers. In all his years, he had never seen the two together. Not in the open like this, not before the eyes and ears of others. Granted, he was certain no one else could see the Spirits. They were exceptionally careful about that. Taerce likely had a veil of secrecy around them at this point.
The girl that had appeared along with Taerce was sniffling pathetically. Her mouth was turned in an exaggerated frown and her violet eyes were puffy and red. Lazuris didn’t understand this one. He knew her, of course; she was chosen by Taerce not too long after Lazuris met his own darling. Her maturity had grown stagnant, though. Perhaps that was her curse along with the eternal boredom. Lazuris suddenly felt himself quite lucky. He could at least travel the lands as he pleased.
As the brothers bickered, Lazuris felt his jaw unhinge and his throat open again. Aru’mat apparently had a singularly focused mind and grew lax on his other powers.
“Karst,” Lazuris whispered. “Can we--?”
“YOU!” Aru’mat roared. The Spirit whirled around to face Lazuris.
“Yes?” Lazuris asked. He was pleased to notice it was even and dry. Was this thanks to Taerce’s presence?
Aru’mat swooped from his perch, gliding effortlessly down so he stood on the same landing as the tanned man. As he did so, the Spirit grew taller and wider. He easily stood at three times as big as Lazuris, who was already taller than the humans. It was a tactic, Lazuris knew this. It was also a very effective tactic. He tried not to flinch.
“The Lycaon, can he see you from his position?” Aru’mat asked. His voice was slow and deliberate, yet Lazuris didn’t understand. Why was he asking him? He knew the answer.
“Yes,” Lazuris responded. He glanced across the falls. The duo was still trapped in the time splint that the Shadow Spirit placed upon them. The open wall of the dungeon allowed a decent vantage point of their position. “If he looked hard enough.”
“I want to make him look,” the Spirit responded.
Taerce had followed his brother down. “Brother, you’ve had your fun. We shall test him at some other time.”
“No. The time is now. I know what he wants, or more, what he doesn’t want.”
Lazuris was confused. Had he figured out the Lycaon’s weakness? Lazuris hadn’t figured it out himself. True, he hadn’t given it too much thought. He hated the Lycaons anyway so he saw no need to work so fervently to decipher this one. Unfortunately, he hadn’t anticipated the Spirit of Night to be quizzing him.
“It’s cruel,” Taerce said calmly. The Light Spirit apparently knew. That was silly, of course he knew.
“Hardly. Cruelty will come later. This is simply a… taste.” Aru’mat smiled to reveal several rows of sharpened teeth. The piranha grin against the beautiful face was jarring and unsettling.
“He will not accept you when he learns how you tormented him,” Taerce tried to remind him, but even Lazuris could tell that there was no altering Aru’mat’s determination at this point.
“I haven’t done a thing. Our… friend here will do it.”
Lazuris forced himself to remember his ancient teachings. He focused on the sensation in his fingertips and the gentle swell of each breath. Panic was a dangerous yet valuable tool.
“You know I can’t have him kill the Lycaon if you intend to take him as a host,” Karst said, finally breaking her silence.
Aru’mat rolled his eyes and sneered at them. “Idiots. I don’t want you to kill him.”
Lazuris looked at Taerce for an answer, but the boy was staring determinedly at his own host. The girl was sobbing now, her porcelain face streaked with glistening tears.
Why would she cry so hard? Logic was easy for his kind, Lazuris knew. This was a simple problem. Taerce had told Lazuris that the fires scared her. The reason for that was obvious given the girl’s history. But she should have stopped when Lazuris banished his fires from the castle.
Lazuris gazed out the city of the so-called Capital. His Friends were happily destroying houses and taverns. They knew not to touch the stables or any of the crops. Just homes and people. The girl had no attachment to these people, so that could not be her concern. It was simply the… Ah.
The entirety Aru’mat’s plan fell into place. But there was a problem.
“I cannot bring my Friends back. They will not come with you here,” Lazuris stated.
Aru’mat was not pleased with this answer. He frowned and his eyes narrowed. “Karst,” he said after a pregnant pause, “you know what must be done.”
Lazuris instinctively looked at his shoulder, hoping to see his darling, but she had gone.
“Choose one, Lazuris,” Karst’s voice said calmly. He couldn’t see her, but Lazuris knew she was behind him. He glanced down at the sheet of rock before him. Five slender phials were displayed in a neat little row. He recognized none of them. He could only assume they were supplied by Aru’mat the Lethal. That name seemed to ring true at that moment.
Lazuris’ slender fingers reached out and gently stroked each of the flasks. He was procrastinating. He knew what was within each of those. But he had drunk that wine just an hour before! Why wasn’t it enough? He knew, of course.
He had to die.
Temporarily… He hoped.
Lazuris fingered the phial the furthest to his right. He pulled it from the perfect row and tugged the cork plug from it. A sickeningly sweet vapor swirled out of it. It stung his nostrils and made his eyes water in protest. Without delay, he swallowed the whole bottle.
Pain. He had anticipated the pain; death was intricately entwined with it. His throat burned and his muscles seized as the poison quickly took its toll. The itching though, that was new. His skin tingled with the feeling of thousands of squirming bugs burrowing deep inside him. He tried to ignore it, but it was infinitely worse than the pain alone.
Aru’mat was creative with his poisons, wasn’t he?
It would come soon. He knew it would. His mind latched onto that thought as he tried desperately to let go of everything else. If he gave in, it would be easier. Fear prickled in the back of his mind and Lazuris was certain that was due to the Shadow Spirit’s presence.
He had to trust her. Karst had not failed him. Ten thousand years and not even once had she lost her grasp on him.
His fingers went numb. His mouth went dry. Counting his heartbeats became increasingly difficult. He fought every instinct to grasp reality; it would only complicate the matter. He just had to wait.
A warm, dripping sensation slowly ran across his body, starting from the tip of his head down his spine and arms. It felt like warm honey, sticky yet comforting as it eased the pain and itching away. He felt light and free. He could no longer tell where one part of him ended and another began. His whole consciousness dissipated into a fluid, vaporous glob.
It was as if he were flying again. What bliss.
Lazuris was ripped from his trance with a vicious slash. He was burning. His whole body was searing in agonizing, blistering pain. He almost wanted the itching back. Almost.
He cringed.
“I’m sorry.” Lazuris heard Karst whisper it to him, but it did not help. It was the price he had to pay.
As quickly as it came, the pain vanished. Lazuris was standing upon the precipice, flames licking at the tips of his fingers, playing at the points of his ears and curling through his locks of hair.
He was strong. He was invincible. She was him, and he was now her.
“Excellent,” Aru’mat squealed. The Spirit clapped his hands together in glee. “Now, destroy the castle.”
Lazuris moved without effort. His fingers pointed toward the smoldering ruins and they instantly erupted in a ravenous emerald flame. It grew and roared into an ancient beast, prowling the floors, hungry for anything that remained.
The lonely survivors had recovered from their time-lapse. They were furiously looking for an escape route. Lazuris watched them as he had nothing else to do; he happily allowed Karst to take control of his movements, to direct the massive monster.
The pair was scared. He saw it in the frantic movements of the Princess’eyes, in the jerky, haphazard steps in the Lycaon.
“Now, the tower.” Aru’mat’s orders were clear. Lazuris had anticipated them already.
Karst obeyed. Her beastly pet slashed at the singular remaining tower. The base shattered and the cylinder tipped almost casually down. It rolled, screeching and crunching as it fell, crashing into the cliff side only feet from where Lazuris was standing. Nothing touched him, of course.
Curiously, it formed a bridge to cross from the castle directly to them. The cracked roof tiles looked much like a cobbled pathway from the dungeons.
“Burn the falls.”
Karst was already ahead of him. Blazing scales from the monster separated from the fire, sprouted wings and darted to the falls. As they slammed into the thunderous water, there was an explosion of steam and mist, constantly evaporating the falls. A perfect little archway was created in the water, exposing the landing and the crevice which Taerce’s host was still cowering in.
The Lycaon saw it. He saw it for what it was: an offering.
“Come, my pet,” Aru’mat cooed.
The Lycaon could not hear him of course, could not even see him. No, he would only see the bridge and the lone figure of Lazuris himself standing at its end. The stones around the pair began to crumble and melt. The girl was screaming at the Lycaon, but the man’s glowing moss eyes were fixed on this makeshift bridge.
Lazuris could see the desire, the obsession in his eyes. Would he take the bait? It was an escape, but it was also everything he had been dreaming of.
The man took a step forward.
“Now,” Aru’mat ordered.
It was almost painful for Lazuris to do this, but he had no choice. He watched with a stoic face as claws of glistening flame grasped the bridge and smashed it effortlessly as if it an annoying gnat. The path disintegrated, collapsing into a million pieces before falling into the falls.
Aru’mat had been right. The Lycaon truly hated it when something he desired was taken from him. The fury was immediate and the hatred was palpable even from Lazuris’ distance. The man screamed which ripped into an agonizing roar. His back arched into a curved hump and joints squelched and snapped into painful, unnatural angles. His hands grew and dark hair sprouted from his growing arms as his clothes tore away.
The transformation was quick, likely quicker than normal. His wrath truly had been exploited by the Spirit. He was a magnificent creature. A sloping spine with a rippling musculature. Fangs protruded from black lips and a lion-like mane wrapped around his neck. Not a wolf, yet not a bear, kerrin nor any other beast. It was unique on its own. They were created with a singular purpose and the sleek, elegant physique displayed it beautifully: the Lycaon was terrifying.
The creature roared, rearing back to snarl. What would he do, Lazuris thought. It wasn’t really a question, more a pondering thought. He didn’t care anymore. His body felt light and fuzzy. He would lose consciousness soon, as he always did after he melded with his darling. He wagered he had one minute, maybe two, left.
Movement pulled Lazuris’ gaze. Ah yes, the girl. Judging from her shaky movements and agape mouth, he assumed that this one had yet to see the Lycaon’s true form. What a lovely reveal. She couldn’t ask for a more memorable scene.
The beast finally turned to stare at her, debris falling around the two of them. They had to make their escape soon. Would he have the courage to jump?
It was hardly a question. With this form, he would easily survive the fall. But with the girl…?
Lazuris watched with sleepy eyes as the Lycaon snatched up the girl and leaped with all his might from the crumbling dungeon. He soared through the air and for a moment Lazuris wondered if he would actually make it across and catch hold of the rocky cliff. Alas, not even as beautiful of as specimen as this could leap such a distance. Shame. The pair fell into the mist, disappearing from view.
The whole event, from the moment the bridge crashed down to their descent took less than forty heartbeats. Fascinating.
“Fascinating, indeed,” Aru’mat echoed.
The castle burned, the ravenous creature of flame and light consumed it until nothing remained but ash. 

Don't worry, they didn't die. Don't believe me?
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