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Messages - Jonathan Ryan

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[SEP/OCT 2019] School / Re: [Sep/Oct 2019] - School - Submission Thread
« on: November 01, 2019, 09:29:31 PM »
The Queen of War and Sorrow

1500 words.  I hope you enjoy.

Spoiler for Hiden:
Timaeus led her through several corridors along the southeast wing until she was thoroughly lost.  At the tender age of fourteen, Lilith had yet to explore the vastness of the school of magical learning called the Arcanum.  The massive, sprawling complex housed not only young students such as herself, but older, accomplished wizards and witches pursuing various magical studies.  It was truly the greatest house of learning for those in the magical profession.

Her grandfather stopped outside a great wrought iron door carved with a mural of warriors locked in combat.  She recalled a text from history class detailing the final confrontation of King Arthur and his bastard son Mordred. 

She looked questioningly at Timaeus.

The Keeper placed a hand reverently on the door, “You are about to meet a dear friend of mine, Lilith.  He will teach you to control your emotions and hopefully, your magic.  Trust me, Little One, this will be difficult.  It will test you.  That is why this is both your punishment and your salvation against further outbursts like today.  Ok?”

Lilith was pretty sure she wasn’t OK, but she nodded, “Yes, Grandfather.”

They entered a chamber that Lilith could only describe as an arena.  Bleachers lined the walls to her left and right, while rows of weapons were stacked neatly at the far end of the arena.  The floor was layered in sand and gravel that scuffed her shoes as they walked towards its only occupant.  He was tall and greying like her grandfather, with a stern countenance, deep black eyes and a more impressive build.  Whereas Timaeus Darnell was a scholar, there was no mistaking this man for exactly what he was.
 
Dangerous.

As they approached, Lilith watched him slowly move through different forms and poses that fluidly flowed into one another, like a slow, purposeful dance.  Her grandfather whispered to wait while he went to speak with him.  They greeted each other warmly, exchanging the pleasant banter of comfortable old friends, before turning to hushed tones and whispered opinions. 

About me undoubtedly, Lilith thought gloomily, What the hell did Grandfather bring me here for?

Before she could muse any further on her current situation, her grandfather bade farewell to the man and began walking back to her but before she could inquire, he walked straight passed her, winked and whispered, “Have fun, Little One.”

Lilith watched in alarm as he disappeared through the wrought iron door and she was left alone with this man.  She turned slowly around to find him looking at her.  No, she corrected herself.  He wasn’t looking at her, that’s what normal people would do.  He was sizing her up, like a predator analysing it’s prey, looking for signs of strengths and possible weaknesses to exploit.

He shook his grey streaked head as he approached her, “Well your old pops sure was right, you haven’t an ounce of discipline and you sure as hell ain’t a fighter.  Not yet anyway.  Come on, let’s see how you do.”

Before Lilith could reply, his left hand shot towards her in a straight punch, aiming for her face.  If she had been a normal, pure blood human, he would likely have broken her nose.  But Lilith was not normal, and she most definitely was not pure-blooded human.  She moved her head to the left and spun away from his strike, putting several feet between them.

He smiled, grinned actually, like he expected her to react that way, “And there it is, that reaction speed.  The tainted blood of the fey coursing through you.  Even without training your reflexes are astounding.”

“It’s not polite to hit a girl without introducing yourself first you know.”  Lilith said as she kept her distance.  She could feel her anger rising, first he attacks her and then insults her?

His grin turned to laughter, “And you’re a smartass, just like your father.  Good, I might enjoy this after all.  My name is Magnus.”

That stopped Lilith short.  She was curious now, who was this Magnus?  “You knew my Dad?”

Magnus nodded but didn’t reply.  He circled her, lithe and ready to pounce but seeming utterly relaxed at the same time.  Lilith was amazed, it was like watching a tiger, all coiled power and grace, ready to erupt at a moment’s notice. 

He lunged from the right.  Lilith saw it coming and made to dodged it.  She failed to anticipate however, that it was a feint, and she felt his elbow connect solidly with the side of her head.  She landed heavily on the sandy surface, the grit and dirt entering her eyes and mouth as she gasped in shock and pain.

Magnus bent down to kneel beside her, “You can’t always rely on your natural abilities alone.  You need training, control and above all, discipline.  Especially someone of your…blood.”

Lilith felt it again, the heat rising within her, just like it did in the classroom when Rosalia Thorn insulted her dead mother, insulted Lilith’s silver hair and violet eyes.  Spat on the fey heritage she inherited from her mother, the only remaining link she had to her.  Lilith let the flow of the heat course through her and rode it to the surface, embracing the fury that encompassed her. 

Azure fire erupted, cascading through the arena in a wave of heat and magical energy.  It was euphoric and satisfying as she gave into her need, her anger and desire for retribution against those who wronged her and her family.  She rode the wave of rage and fury until the tide ebbed, lost its edge, spent as quickly as it was released.  The blue flames slowly burned away to embers and finally nothing, but the residual heat left over from the magic.

Lilith regained her senses as the anger dissipated and panic flooded through her.  Magnus! Had she killed him?  He had been right beside her, in the centre of the outburst.  She frantically looked around and was met with the smiling face of Magnus.

Somehow, the grizzled warrior looked pleased, “My my, well aren’t you just full of surprises.  Wondering how I’m not roasted like a well-done steak?”

Lilith nodded dumbly, her words escaping her for once.

“This arena has a bound field that cancels all harmful effects of magic.  You just treated me to the most spectacular light show.  Cheers,” Magnus grinned at her and stood up, gesturing for her to follow, “Come sit for a minute.  Let’s have a little chat before we try that again, eh?”

Lilith joined him on the bleachers, sitting a safe distance away, warily eying him for another attack.  Magnus must have noticed as he smiled and said, “Don’t worry no more sneak attacks.  A history lesson instead.  Come, sit beside me.”

“Have you ever heard of the Queen of War and Sorrow?” He asked as she joined him.

Lilith shook her head.  She never had, which was odd as she loved history, especially anything rooted in mythology, a trait she shared with her deceased parents, “No, who was she?”

Magnus smiled warmly at her, “Firstly, before I continue, I must apologise.  What I said before about your blood, being fey, that was just to get a rise from you.  I needed to see your reaction for my own eyes to best gauge how to proceed.”

Lilith nodded impatiently, she wanted to hear more about the queen, “Apology accepted.”

Magnus nodded in approval and grinned again, “Very well.  Eager to learn, aren’t you?  An admirable trait.  The Queen of War and Sorrow is a mythical figure even among the fey.  She was the first and only of the fey kings and queens to unite the courts into one unified fey nation.  Her name has been long forgotten now by history, but one truth remains above all else.  Can you guess what made her so different, so capable of bringing together the Courts of Winter and Summer?  When Titania and Mab failed repeatedly?”

Lilith sat for several moments, deep in thought as she delved in the recesses of her mind for an answer.  Eventually she gave up, “No, I can’t.  But I’m sure you’re gonna tell me?”

Magnus shook his head but was smiling as he did, “That lip of yours will get you in trouble, you know that right?  She was a halfling, like you are Lilith.  She had humanity, she had compassion and understanding.  Something her counterparts sorely lacked.  It was this that gave her the strength to unite them in their most dire hour.  But in the end, it was also her downfall.”

“Why?  What happened?”  Lilith was intrigued now, her thirst for history was piqued.

Magnus stood and crossed the sandy floor to the centre of the arena, spreading his arms in invitation with a mischievous smile on his face, “Dodge my attacks while keeping a rein on that temper and I’ll consider telling you, deal?”

Lilith smiled, the idea of the challenge and the reward at its completion compelling her to try.  She nodded, “Deal.”

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[AUG 2019] BtR: Weather / Re: [Aug 2019] - BtR: Weather - Voting Thread
« on: October 03, 2019, 07:10:03 AM »
Thanks a million everyone, there were some fantastic stories this month and well done to everyone they made for some good reading.  Thanks for voting for me it's much appreciated :)

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If it was continued I would participate, I have a story idea just been mental at work this month. :-\

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[AUG 2019] BtR: Weather / Re: [Aug 2019] - BtR: Weather - Voting Thread
« on: September 03, 2019, 12:52:58 PM »
Voted 👍🏻

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[AUG 2019] BtR: Weather / Re: [Aug 2019] - BtR: Weather - Submission Thread
« on: September 01, 2019, 09:57:07 PM »
Been a while since I submitted anything so here goes.  This story turned out to be a lot longer than I'd planned and I've really enjoyed writing it and how it turned out so I couldn't bring myself to cut so much to make it fit, so I hope posting the first 1350 words is acceptable?  If it is, I hope you enjoy.

A Storm of Shadows

1350 words

Spoiler for Hiden:
Pale, broken moonlight danced across the brewing waters of Lunala Lake as the encroaching storm rumbled in the distance, banks of iron clouds toiling across the darkening sky, heralding the fury that followed in their wake.  The merchant city of Calathea was quiet in the distance, the sprawling metropolis settled in for the night, safely sheltered within the shadow of the Daggerline Mountains from the worst of the coming weather.

The small lake house several miles outside the city, however, would not find such comfort as thunder growled beyond the mountains.  But that suited the thief perfectly as she steered her small vessel through the choppy waters of the lake, easing the rudder towards the private dock built along the shoreline.  She cast the anchoring rope along the dock as she scrambled onto the slippery stone and tied the noose to steady the skiff, keeping a close eye on the lake house as she worked.

No light, no movement, no sign of any inhabitants.  But she remained wary.

Breathing deeply as the wind set her golden curls dancing to its tune, Rayne Emblyn checked her gear beneath her midnight cloak and dark fitted clothes.  Satisfied, she drew upon her well of magic and summoned her power.  The shadows pooled about her, caressing her, inviting her into their embrace and she gladly stepped into it.  She was a wraith, a living shadow as she strode purposefully down the dock to the shore and the dense undergrowth beyond.

The thief kept to the darkness the tangled canopy provided, invisible within her shadows as she surveyed the lake house.  All remained still, quiet.  She sent tendrils of liquid night ghosting towards the house, probing for any sign of magical wards.  Her emerald eyes narrowed in suspicion when she found none.  Surely, he couldn’t be that reckless.

But it’s possible he is that stupid, Rayne mused as she approached the back entrance and slipped inside the property, the lock of the carved oak door quickly giving way to her small pick tools.   

The lake house was a graveyard of couches and armchairs sheltered in dusty white sheets arranged around an exquisite marble fireplace. The floors were a richly coloured mahogany but smothered in a fine layer of dust and grime.  Her booted feet slid effortlessly across them as she prowled from room to room, her magic probing ahead of her seeking any sign of life.  Rayne marvelled at the beautiful artwork that adorned the walls, some artists she even recognised from her contacts among the merchant city slumbering across the lake.  A veritable fortune lay here, unguarded, everything of value kept in plain sight and left to gather dust.

Or so the ruse would have me believe, she thought wryly as the probing shadows uncovered what she sought.  Her magic guided her to the polished oak doors of a study.  Leather bound books and rolls of parchment littered the floor and shelves, but it was the back wall that drew her attention, as she spied her shadowy tendrils clawing at the wooden bookcase. 

The thief drew back her magic and examined the books set neatly along the shelves, the shelves themselves and the floor beneath.  Nothing was immediately evident, no seams cut into the stone indicating a hidden door, no hinges or handles of any kind.  Drawing on her power, Rayne pressed her shadow wreathed hand upon the wood, sending a small wave of her magic through it and felt a faint thrumming emanating from behind it.  The thief smiled as she recognised the type of magic, a rune-lock door. 

You are far more cautious than I gave you credit for, Mr. Lemaire.  But there is nowhere I cannot go.

Rayne dipped a little deeper into her well of power as she drew her magic back to her, bathing herself in the darkness of the flowing shadows.  She let the darkness course through her, envelope her like a second skin and pervade her entire being.  She was the darkness.  The thief could feel the seams in the wooden floor, the minuscule crevices between the stone walls, the spaces in the pages of the books. 

This was her playground; her world and she was its god.

Once she was certain of her path, Rayne released the magic and herself along with it.  Her shadow-self dissipated and flowed through the channels her magic detected in the air, the wood and the stone as she passed through the rune-lock door into a hidden chamber beyond.  The shadows coalesced, reforming into her physical body.  She always felt so heavy afterwards, like her limbs were chained with weights after flying free.  But she was all too aware of the dangers of maintaining that form for too long.

She shook off her discomfort and surveyed the room, her gaze piercing the gloom with a spark of magic.  A small work desk and chair were set against the rear wall, with some small display cases adorning each side, laden with rare and exotic idols and artefacts.  What she sought would likely be locked within the desk.
 
Quickly, she approached the work desk, pried open the drawer and rummaged through piles of paper until she found the ledger.  Her excitement grew as she leafed through the pages, her verdant gaze roving over the well of information contained within.  This was what the High Circle had hired her for, this information that could turn the tide and wrest the city back from the control of the Lemaire family.

And hopefully gain my freedom from the Guild. 

She pocketed the ledger in her cloak as she readied herself to leave, her escape route mapped out in vivid detail in her mind.  Rayne summoned the shadows to her again and ghosted through the air, wood and stone back to the study beyond.  She was about to reclaim her corporeal form when her magic detected movement in the hall.  Rayne quickly darted into the furthest corner of the room where she could meld with the shadows there and wait to observe the threat.

“I know you’re here, Rayne,” A tall, broad shouldered man entered the doorway, predatory onyx eyes scanning the shadowy gloom of the study.  His blood red hair was tied tightly back into a stylized tail, hanging down to the waist of his dark grey, fitted clothes that emphasised the contours of his well-muscled body.  His smile did not reach his eyes as he prowled in, “Come out, come out poppet.  You know I’ll find you in the end.”

Rayne shifted from one corner to another, feeling out the pathways and channels in the air and gloom for a way passed this man she hated more than anyone.  Mohle Tamorak was the lowest kind of thief.  He had no pride in his skill and would as soon slit your throat for a score than do some honest to gods thieving.  He would sell her out to the Master without a second thought. 

And any chance of freedom will vanish.  I need to leave, but how?

She could feel the strain of maintaining her shadow form beginning to take its toll on her.  It would be dangerous to keep it going for much longer.  If she could create a distraction it might allow her the room to flit through the doorway.  Rayne began to feel her magic ebb away, but she dug deeper, drawing more than she ever had before, drawing enough to feel the edges of her limits.  But she needed it, anything less would mean the end of her.

Rayne cast her magic into the study and formed a shadow that resembled her as closely as possible.  She hoped Mohle would take the bait and move towards it and almost whooped in delight as he drew a wicked blade and rushed towards her shadow.  As quickly and quietly as she dared, Rayne maneuvered through the channels of air and shadow and darted through the open doorway.  Her shadow-self dissolved as she reclaimed her solid form and burst into a dead sprint through the lake house, Mohle’s scream of frustration following in her wake.

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[JUL + AUG 2018] Games / Re: [Jul+Aug 2018] - Games - Discussion Thread
« on: August 28, 2018, 09:32:49 PM »
Not happy with how my current story is going, starting to panic a bit with deadline approaching but have an alternate idea so I have a quick question, does a battle royal tournament count as games??? (Waits with bated breath in hope) 🙊

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[JUL + AUG 2018] Games / Re: [Jul 2018] - Games - Discussion Thread
« on: July 09, 2018, 09:45:44 AM »
Finding myself inspired by Winston Churchill 🙄😎

"War is a game that is played with a smile. If you can't smile, grin. If you can't grin, keep out of the way till you can."

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[FEB 2018] WASIASGYNDL / Re: [Feb 2018] - WASIASGYNDL - Submission Thread
« on: February 28, 2018, 11:28:59 PM »
So in writing this, I decided to do two things I normally hate doing when writing...writing in First Person POV and writing without an outline.  I just had an initial inkling of an idea, the opening sentence rolling around in my head and this is what happened when I tried to put it into words...I think once I go back to this with my usual fervour and a solid outline at some stage down the line it might actually make a decent story, but for now I hope you enjoy this effort.

Word count; 751.

For your consideration, RED DEATH UNDER RED SKIES.

Spoiler for Hiden:
I remember when the sky turned red.  Not the beautiful crimson wash of the sunset that faded to orange hues like flames across the horizon.  No, this was something far removed from beauty, a sinister thing that foreshadowed that which came after.  I remember a baptism of blood as death stalked the earth, craving the taste of flesh and the sweet ecstasy of the scent of fear. 

It was my greatest shame, a moment of fear that caused the near extinction of man and the rise of a malevolent force unlike any seen since primordial times.  I had left the Well unprotected, and the consequence was a walking death that could not be fought. 
Their true name had long been lost to the decay of time. 

We simply called them the Old Ones.

First came the Scourging, the reaping of humanities strength as monarchies fell and our own armies turned against us, their will taken from them as they slaughtered their own.  Kingdoms were left in ruin as the people fled, herded in fear as death preyed upon every man, woman and weeping child without mercy.  In the end, despair corroded every last shred of hope and the will of humanity was extinguished.

Looking back now, there was much I could have done to help, to protect those in need and ease the pain of those beyond it.  But my pain knew no end and while despair gripped its claws around the heart of man, its claws had long clutched at my own breast.  I was paralyzed, unable to move passed the loss.  All that was dear to me, lost in a single night of blood and retribution, leaving only death and regret.

I had left the world to burn.

I broke the sacred vow I had sworn to uphold.

Thus, I was cursed to wander the world for eternity, hand in hand with the broken shards of the world.

In the aftermath, all that remained became the Desolation, the corrupted domain of the Old Ones.  They continued to hunt the remnants of mankind while they consolidated their power.  It was then that my will began to fail.  My shame faded to nothing and from nothing it was a lonely path to the darkness of the void.  I do not know how long I lingered there, alone, lost in the shadows as my identity was slowly stripped away, my memories, my life and even my name, lost to the dark corners of time.

But my shame remained, that burning memory of failure reminding me that humanities near extinction was as much by my hand as theirs.  I was trapped, forever haunted by the choice I had made.  I believed it right at the time, but my fear had cost the world.  If only I had closed off my emotions, my feelings could not have influenced me.  I could have been the protector the world needed.  I would have made the cold, logical choice and allowed them to die, so that the world could live.

Over and over I was forced to relive this despair, no relief from my pain.

It was then I heard the voice, deep in the recesses of my self-loathing, the warrior I had once been raging against the shackles I had struck upon him.

Fight...pick up your sorry ass from whatever shit hole you have let yourself crawl into...avenge what was taken from you.

No, I could not.  Just let me rot here, there is no hope.  Who am I now?  My name, my memories, they have faded from thought.  What am I now only a husk of the man they had loved before I let them die.

You did not let them die.  You broke your vows; you fled the Well because you knew it was a lost cause.  You tried to save you family.  They were stripped from your arms. 

Now, avenge them.

FIGHT!


Could I? 

It surprised me how much it burned in me to fight again, to avenge what was taken from me, from humanity.  The fires of vengeance roared through my veins, demanding release.  Demanding blood.

With my baptism of fire, I felt it all.  I felt the pain of the world, the cries of mankind in their perpetual misery as they prayed endlessly.  I could hear them all, man, woman and child alike.  Humanity prayed for a saviour, a messiah to guide them through this dark era.

Instead, they got me.

My name is Drazan of Anarra.

This is how my story began.

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[FEB 2018] WASIASGYNDL / Re: [Feb 2018] - WASIASGYNDL - Discussion Thread
« on: February 18, 2018, 05:27:46 PM »
Perfect, think I've got an idea so ????????

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[FEB 2018] WASIASGYNDL / Re: [Feb 2018] - WASIASGYNDL - Discussion Thread
« on: February 18, 2018, 11:17:24 AM »
I've never been particularly comfortable writing in first person PoV and always try to avoid it, would that count...?????????

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[NOV 2017] Water / Re: [Nov 2017] - Water - Submission Thread
« on: December 02, 2017, 12:01:51 AM »
sorry, literally right on the deadline, not my finest work I didn't even have time to edit it or check over it and totally not satisfied witht he ending or the fight scenes but read away and make what you will  :)

1084 words.

In Darkness Dwells.

Spoiler for Hiden:

Lilith touched the glowing blue amulet that hung in the hollow of her throat.  It was warm to touch and pulsed faintly with the life that was contained within it.  She smiled ruefully as she felt the nix brush against her thoughts, worry and fear reflected in them.  “Don’t worry little nix, we are nearly there.”

The sorceress then quieted her mind and sought out their pursuer.  She felt the vibrations through the fetid and murky waters of the London sewer system as she summoned her elemental magic.  The Bloody Gentleman was not far behind them now, making no effort to mask his presence.  Instead, she felt something else.  Another vibration in the water, smaller but quicker in pace. 

She tightened her concentration and tried to hone in on the new presence.  She recoiled immediately, pain searing through her mind.  She released the elemental magic and briskly ploughed through the putrid waters toward her destination, her rising anger blocking out the remnants of pain.   

Damn that bastard, he summoned grindylows to track us.

The entrance to the lost river was somewhere ahead, she could feel the magic of the gateway thrumming through the waters that sloshed around her boots.  Once she reached it, the nix would be safe and she could deal with the Bloody Gentleman.  She recalled what she knew of the mercenary.  His reputation was well known among her peers, a man with a tragic and violent past.

They had crossed paths several times and had each left their mark upon the other.  But today, today he would not best her.  The life of the little fey safeguarded in her amulet depended on it.  Lilith had no idea how the water fey had ventured into this world and was puzzled even further that it would end up captured and sold on the shadow market.  When this business was done, she swore she would track down the buyer who had tried to purchase the nix.

But right now, I have bigger issues to contend with.

She felt the first of the grindylows cutting through the water, coming directly at her from behind.  The sorceress kept up her pace as she waited for the water demon to strike.  It was then she sensed two more waiting ahead of her at the next junction of the waterways.  She cursed under her breath and summoned her elemental magic once again as she drew Arondight from its scabbard over her shoulder.  She drew the spell into her with several quick and precise gestures with her hand and fingers and held it at the ready as she waded through the miasma of piss and shit that curdled in the water.

All three grindylows attacked simultaneously as she reached the junction, long spindly arms and sharp spines jutting from their greyish skin as they erupted from the water.  But Lilith was prepared.  She cast the elemental spell she had been holding and froze the air around her, catching the grindylows in mid strike.  Three quick slashes of her blade and there were three decapitated demons left in her wake.

Lilith continued through the labyrinth of tunnels, taking each turn at the gentle urging of the nix as it brushed against her thoughts.  Finally, they reached the gateway.  She could see it clearly at the end of the tunnel, glowing brightly through the gloom of the sewer, the light of Avalon cast into the mortal world.  She basked in its glow briefly, her own fey heritage reacting to seeing the immortal light.

But the presence of a horde of grindylows quickly brought her back to her senses.  She touched the amulet around her neck and muttered the words of release and the nix melted from it, a fluid azure liquid light that formed in the water before her.  It took the form of a serpentine dragon, its scales midnight blue and glowing with an inner light.  Its crystalline eyes were a warm ivory hue and they looked upon her full of gratitude and compassion.

Lilith urged it on, waving her sword at the gate, “Go now please, before the grindylows come.  I’ll hold them off.  Go on, go!”

The little water fey hesitated for a moment but then whisked away into the water as the grindylows crashed down the tunnel towards them.  Lilith spun around to face them, Arondight glowing brightly in her hands as she gathered her power and roared in challenge at the water demons, “Ventus ignis!”

Azure flames lanced from Arondights blade and erupted down the tunnel, encasing the demons in fire and water and boiling steam.  Lilith heard nothing but the deafening roar of the fire and steam until she sagged to her knees, her strength utterly spent.  Moments later, the steam cleared enough for her to see what she had wrought. 

Nothing remained but sludge and the shattered bodies of the grindylow.  She would have heaved at the carnage she had inflicted had she the energy left to do so, but it was all she could do to lift her head and cast her eyes upon what remained.

Without warning she felt a blade upon her throat, “Not bad little sorceress, but you should have known it wouldn’t be that easy to kill me.  Now, where is the fey?”

“Fuck you Gideon, I released it back to Avalon.  You’re welcome to enter the gateway and try and recapture it.  But I hazard that you would not last five minutes before the Knight of Seasons is on your tail.”  Lilith knew there was very little she could do to defend herself now.  She was at his mercy.

But despite that, she smiled.  At least the nix got away.

As she readied herself to face Gideon’s wrath, the tunnel was filled with a warm azure light and a haunting melody that touched her deep to her very soul.  The sorceress laughed as she realised what was happening.

The Bloody Gentleman spun around and dragged her with him, the blade still laid across the flesh of her exposed throat.  Before them was the nix in all its glory, glowing bright and filling the tunnel with its song.  Its ivory gaze settled upon Gideon, who fell back against the intensity of its glare before a shaft of azure light lanced from the fey and struck the mercenary squarely in the chest.  He fell back with a cry, and was washed away with the rising current.

Lilith met the eyes of the nix and smiled. 

They had saved each other.
   



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@ScarletBea hi sorry only just saw this now, yup I changed my name hope that's OK ???? yes I will definitely be entering again, currently working on a story for this months Contest ????????

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Thanks a million everyone, I'm really happy you all enjoyed my story!  :) i'll defo stick around and see what I can come up with next  ;D 8)

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Thanks for the votes everyone really appreciate it, all the entries were great and enjoyable to read! Can't believe I won on my first try ???? ????

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voted, sorry forgot to write it up the other day  :)

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