He had the upper claw. His nails were now bloody, his eyes extremely sharp. Slowly, his steps were nearing the figure that was attempting to back off. To no avail. Another swipe of mace, upwards. A useless move; he finally kicked it out of his grip, making it fall next…

They had chased. All they could do was chase. And yet, it did not feel it was enough. They did not have wings; they could not reach as easily the place where they had ventured. They only reached danger, and still too far, only the tip of the surface. A…

The panicked steps echoed all over. Screams, yells, none as loud as the strikes, the rumbling of flames. Two human eyes looked back in terror, as he rushed ahead through the chambers, hearing the steps behind him. His arms clutched desperately the books he had been reading before all had…

Not ten, not twenty. Fifty figures advanced. All mounted, all armed. Each one marched north, some from the east, a few from the south. They would be more soon, joined by others in far distant roads. But for now, they were enough; and they had an appointment before they would…

“You can’t go!” His yell still echoed in his mind, angry, outraged; full of fear too. “Stay here!” He had not listened. He needed to go, as soon as his wound had healed. His angel had tried to keep him from venturing, his amber eyes pleading, dreadful. “Let me shield…

Three shadows moved in the dark. Their steps were calculated, direct. Even though their presence could be assumed as dangerous, the night still had echoes of wildlife. Their demonic presence was not seen as a threat, for it was known by the forest, familiar. In fact, it was during the…

“You have me worried.” The whisper echoed through the chamber, its stony walls letting it flow all around them. Even though it had been said quietly, hesitantly, it reached him. His hands finally moved away from a row of bookshelves, his concealed wings twitching under his robes. “You always worry.”…

The sound of cavalry echoed, as a multitude of riders rushed through the forest; each day less uncharted, less foreign. The woods now belonged to them. Long ago, their people would traverse it warily, perhaps in dread. But no more; their horses were led directly, with intention. Their grandfathers had…