Rage

Blain was dead, he knew it, the last of his men knew it, the Knurligs knew it, and Ciray, who he knew was watching, also probably knew it... Ciray...

Watching two more fall, it was just Raph and himself now, back to back on horses, turning on the spot, they hacked and slashed at any Knurlig foolish enough to approach, but several were approaching with spears, Blain accepted his fate. The first spear man pushed through the crowd, a greedy smile on his tattooed lip, the man stabbed at Blain, who caught the tip on his shield, the Knurlig twisted his spear, using the dagger like tip to gouge a hole in Blain's shield.

"DISMOUNT!" yelled Blain.

He didn't know if Raph had heard him, but he swung a leg over the horse, dropping to the ground he turned to face the spear wielding Knurlig. But upon the mans face, was gone the greedy smile, replaced with terror, his eyes going wide. The man was looking at something behind Blain, right before he was engulfed in white flames, Angel indeed.

Pushing back, in order to regroup with Ashlard and Raph, Blain found himself beside Ashlard, who from the look of things, was struggling to remain in control of his emotions, he was snapping between eyes of glowing embers and the deepest black. Slashing out with claws and teeth, trying shaking off black demonic eyes, that wanted to engulf enemies in flames.

"Ashlard!" Blain yelled, "It's okay boy..."

Ashlard paused for a moment, before grimacing as a sword smashed into his shoulder, and that was it, now Blain fought beside a demon.

Kill... Kill them all... So much anger... So much... PAIN!

Ashlard couldn't think straight, he felt so much rage, these puny creatures just kept coming. Some he slashed, some he bit, some he smashed with his great tail, and some he tore limb from limb. Something bumped him from behind, he sat up on his haunches, bathing all in front of him in white flames. He turned to investigate, only to spot another filthy human, this one dressed differently... He would burn too, snarling and opening his maw, tensing his jaw, the man turned to face him.

"Remember Runë!" he yelled.

Runë... Runë...Ashlard paused, he couldn't help it, THROB... His head hurt, the image of a young woman flashed across his mind, blonde hair, blue eyes, dimpled chin... It was Runë... Runë! With a start, he stuffed his head under the soldiers legs, hoisting him up onto his back. If this man knew where Runë was, he would spare his life.

Almost as if the soldier was reading his mind, "to the gate, I'll take you to Runë!" The man yelled

Runë....

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Blain was in awe, riding atop Ashlard, he didn't even know if Ashlard knew who he was. But simply by talking about Runë, something had awoken in him, something he recognised. Ashlard was a devastating force, every Knurlig within reach was torn to pieces in those massive claws. He replenished energy by biting every fifth or sixth, and any foolish enough to sneak behind was smashed to pieces by his spiked tail. Even now, with the Knurligs backing away, trying to allow the demon to escape. He wasn't satisfied with his blood lust, bathing the fleeing Knurligs with flames so hot the dying men didn't have time to scream for more than a moment. Before Blain knew it, he was passing through the western gate, watching it close behind him.

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Runë was sprinting now, she could see Ashlard, he had lost control. Somehow Blain was riding him like some demonic steed. He disappeared from view as she came closer, only just seeing Blain's green plume above the backs of all the soldiers. There was a soft thud as the gate closed and locked, before a terrible screech rang out. Ashlard had thrown off Blain, and was raising himself up on his haunches, turning to face all the soldiers. They did what they were trained, pointing their weapons towards him, only making him more enraged.

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Sucking in huge volumes of air, Blain realised what was about to happen. Scrambling to get away from Ashlard, before he burned everything, he heard a strange noise, almost a cough, but with a chirp. Turning back, there was Runë, in all her good graces, standing tall, arms wrapped tightly around Ashlard.

Blain watched in amazement, as Ashlard, dropped to all fours. Sniffing Runë all over, and seemingly satisfied, began rubbing against her. Bumping and jostling her, in a similar way a cat would. Runë gently took his head in her hands, kissing his nose gently, Blain watched the fire re-ignite in his eyes.

Ashlard came too, staring at the woman he loved... She was so beautiful. Realising he was in the form of a beast, he surged his energy, twisting and contorting back to the shape of a man, retracting his scales, he looked Runë in the eyes, those perfect blue orbs, and collapsed.

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Ashlard woke to the sound of a distant booms, sitting up, he was immediately grabbed by soft hands. Pushing him back down, his vision cleared, seeing Runë's worried expression for the first time. He was sitting in an almost bare room, except the bed he was laying on, a single chair beside it and his swords propped up against the wall. Pulling her hair aside, Runë leaned in, pressing the skin of her neck against Ashlard's jaw, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly and bit down.

FLASH

Humming... this time she hummed... surging power...

A bed... Runë holding him... A sunset... A sunrise... A kiss...

FLASH

Ashlard had to release her neck to catch his breath, but she wouldn't release him until he fed again. She knew her limits better than he did, and he needed all the strength he could gather. Holding her close, he kissed her gently, before standing up, still holding her tightly in his arms. They were in a room Ashlard didn't recognise, so he placed Runë back on her feet.

She quickly opened a door, beckoning for him to follow, Ashlard quickly grabbed his weapons, strapping it on, and followed. It lead to a long corridor, with multiple doors on either side, from the few that were open, it occurred to Ashlard this was likely a recovery are for an infirmary.

Exiting this corridor, was a very different sight. People were everywhere, some nurses, some soldiers... Missing limbs, blood, unidentifiable body parts in buckets. The sound of the dying, moaning in agony, or their last breaths.

More than one cried out, "angel save us!"

More than one begged for their mother, Ashlard caught a glimpse of a boy, no older than twelve, with an arrow lodged in his chest, staring at him with wide eyes. Ashlard approached the boy, who reached out, Ashlard grasping his hand.

"Will you save us?" the boy asked weakly.

"I will try," said Ashlard.

"Thank... you..." the boys eyes glazed over.

Ashlard gripped his hand tighter, "no..." he said, "NO!"

Soft hands gripped his, as tears welled up in his eyes. He found himself being held by Runë, stroking his head, she gently pried his hands away from the boy and lead him away.

"If this is the cost of war, then I will end it," he said, trembling with rage.

Runë led him to the war chamber, she stood aside, allowing him to enter. He paused, taking her by the hand, and brought her in with him. He found himself in a small room with King Raynor, Blain and half a dozen other men, all arguing simultaneously. Seeing Ashlard walk in, the room immediately went silent.

"Thank the heavens you're back," said a man.

Ashlard nodded his thanks, before turning to Blain and the King.

"How do I end this war?" he said.

"It's not that si-"

"HOW DO I END THIS WAR!" he roared, flashing the embers in his eyes.

Blain stepped towards him, "You could always kill Arctur, the Armoured Knurlig," shaking his head, "foolish boy."

Ashlard knew what Blain said was meant to be sarcastic. But it didn't make it any less true, quickly turning towards Runë, he bent, wrapping his arms around her and pulled her close.

"I love you," he said.

Quickly releasing her, he stood, turning and heading for the exit. Blain saw Runë's expression, her features twisted into pain, tears already falling from her cheeks.

"Ashlard wait!" he called, running to stop the boy.

Ashlard ignored Blain, pushing the door open and immediately taking to the air. He could hear Blain yelling, but he ignored his mentor, there was only one way to stop this war. Flying over the battlefield, he could see the burnt remains of the war towers. He could see trebuchets launching barrel sized stones at the walls, some smashing against it, some sailing over the top and into the city, destroying buildings and homes. He could see the Knurligs felling trees to rebuild their war towers. But what he was looking for, he couldn't spot. So be it...

Snapping his wings closed, he dropped like a stone, drawing his claymore as he fell. Landing atop an unsuspecting Knurlig, he impaled another with his blade. Standing to his full size, the surrounding Knurligs didn't have time to respond before he started swinging. In a matter of moments, there were screams of agony, bodies lying stacked atop one another. Some missing limbs, some cut clean in half. There was a wide circle around him now, with all Knurligs facing him. He pulled his second sword form it's sheath, before rushing headlong into the Knurligs immediately in front of him. Hacking and slashing, Knurligs fell on his blades, by the dozens. His skill with a blade made all the more dangerous by his incredibly speed and strength. Shields were useless, his claymore carving them, and the arm beneath, clean in half. Ashlard decimated anyone who stood in his way, leaving a trail of pure carnage.

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Blain was watching from the gate, Runë beside him, he didn't offer her his spyglass, she didn't need to see what was happening, the trail of bodies staining the earth red was visible to everyone on the wall, it was a terrifying sight.

"Runë..." he said, "The Ashlard you know, and the Ashlard on the battlefield, are not the same man."

Runë looked at him, tears still running down her cheeks. But her expression, one of fierce resolve. Blain had to remind himself again that while Ashlard had power, Runë had the inner strength. He had no doubt in his mind Ashlard came back on her call, and he fought now to defend it.

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Ashlard stood, admiring his bloody work, the Knurligs were actively trying to flee him now, everywhere he turned, they tried to run away, it was no longer a battle for him, but a slaughter. Quickly grabbing a stumbling Knurlig, he tore into the man's throat, ignoring the pull of memories, rebuilding his energy reserves, lowering his weapons to his side.

"ARCTUR!" he roared, "How many of your men must I kill before you face me?"

The surrounding Knurligs made no attempt to approach him, none dared come within reach of his terrible blades. But while the battle raged on behind him, there was no sign of their leader, this Arctur...

"So be it," he said quietly.

Tearing into the fray again, men by the dozens were torn from this world in moments. Their deaths coming swiftly and without mercy. Ashlard ducked a crossbow bolt fired at close range, stabbing the shooter through the chest with his claymore. He bent, picking up a fallen war axe, feeling the weight, he turned, hurling it into the crowd of Knurligs with all his might. Seeing it carve straight through the first man, he turned, pulling his blade free from the dead shooter. He heard a dull, THUNK. Turning back, he had a moments notice before spotting the axe tearing through the air back towards him... Finally... Swatting the axe away with the flat of his claymore. Snapping his wings open he leapt into the air in the direction of Arctur. Wasting no time, he attempted to cleave the Armoured Knurlig in half as he landed, skidding to a stop behind the enemy leader. Turning around, Arctur was standing back up, after ducking the blade.

Blain was tense now, he could see Arctur, almost as tall as Ashlard, Blain hoped their training had been worth it.

"If I kill you, the war will end," said Ashlard.

"Killing me will change nothing," Arctur hissed, "I do not want to fight you."

Ashlard didn't care, swinging his claymore, hoping to catch Arctur off guard, but was quickly blocked. Following with a quick uppercut with his short sword, Arctur dodged, stabbing at Ashlard. Twisting past the blade, Ashlard stepped forward, driving the hilt of his claymore into Arctur's stomach, before bringing the claymore down hard on the ox-skull helmet. Arctur slammed into the ground with a crunch, Ashlard stepping back before swinging hard with a kick, only to have his leg caught. Arctur surged upwards, lifting Ashlard off the ground, before swinging his weight, throwing Ashlard into the nearest group of Knurligs. Ashlard lashed out, killing several Knurligs, before climbing back to his feet,

"Stop brother!" Arctur hissed.

"I have no brother!" roared Ashlard.

"No..." hissed Arctur, "but you do have family."

THROB... an image of a young woman, blonde hair, falling into snow, an arrow in her back, a small bundle in her arms.

Ashlard shook his head, he needed to know, "were you there?" he growled.

"Yes," said Arctur, standing tall.

"Then it was you..."

The light drained from Ashlard's eyes...

"NOOOOO!" screamed Arctur, "Ashlard stop!" grabbing Ashlard, by the shoulders shaking him roughly, "Brother listen!"

But Ashlard was no more, now the beast remained. Rising up on it's haunches, snapping his wings together, he screeched, the terrible sound causing all the Knurlig to flee in terror, clutching their hands to their heads, desperately trying to block the sound. Then the fire began, before he had even finished his demonic battle cry, he was oozing venom from between his scales, slowly dripping liquid fire underneath him, his body engulfed in a burning inferno.

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Blain lowered the eyeglass, he didn't know what happened, the fight seemed to be going in Ashlard's favour, but now, he'd lost control, he clutched his ears in pain as the sound of tearing metal ripped through the air. Runë was doubled over, holding her head. When the sound stopped, there was chaos, raising his spyglass, he could still see Arctur, but Ashlard was nothing but a hulking figure of flames. The Knurligs spirit had broken at this point, fleeing away from Ashlard's terrible form.

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Ashlard lashed out with his claws, Arctur ducked out of the way, but he pressed on, slashing, gouging holes in the ground, the air cracking as his speed tore holes in the fabric of space itself. There was nothing Arctur could do to stop him, except to keep dodging attacks. A well placed slash, caught the enemy leader in the shoulder, sending the Armoured Knurlig tumbling through the air.

Ashlard pounced, throwing his bulk over Arctur, feeling something hot, he looked down, he had leapt atop Arctur's blade, it had pierced his chest, pushing out his back, below his left wing. With a snarl, he grabbed Arctur by the shoulders, lifting, then slamming the Knurlig into the the ground with a sickening crunch. Bending and sinking his teeth into the shoulder of the Armoured Knurlig, crushing bone and flesh alike.

FLASH

Playing with a doll he'd made her... she laughed, thanking him...

Giving a twisted and knotted piece of wood to a beautiful woman, she thanked him, kissing his cheek before placing it beside the carving of a howling wolf, she felt jealous about never receiving a carving.

"Ashlard," she called, running towards him, "Ashlard he's here, he's here, come see your little brother!"

A tall, slender man, taking a bent sword, walking into the darkness...

A woman, her eyes bleeding, she screamed, a terrible metallic scream...

Dragging his sister up a snowy hill, she cries out, an arrow lodged in her back, she collapses on top of a small bundle, he's falling...

FLASH

Ashlard recoiled, the fire ignited in his eyes, returning to human form.

"AMARA!" he screamed, pulling the helmet of the Armoured Knurlig, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."

She gazed at him, bleeding from the corner of her mouth, her soft green eyes matching his. The tips of her blonde hair stained red with gore. She smiled, reaching up, placing a hand on his cheek.

"Remember the Knurlig mother killed?" she hissed, "Knurligs scar... They don't have tattoos."

"Don't worry about that," he cried, taking her hand and stroking her hair. "Please," begging now.

"It's always going to be your choice," Amara said, coughing up blood, "I never meant for this to happen."

Ashlard tried to lift Amara up, "You need to leave, now," but something felt wrong. She was stuck.

Amara just looked at him, reaching down, she grasped a bone from the centre of her breastplate, pulling it free, the fabric underneath tore. Now Ashlard could see it, the blade protruding from her chest, he had done this, he finally found his answers, but none of it was worth killing his twin sister.

"You need to control your rage," Amara said weakly, "Protect your bond-mate."

"No..." sobbed Ashlard.

Amara stiffened, looking into the distance, "Mother... Says... She's proud."

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Blain couldn't see what happened, Ashlard sat hunched over Arctur. Neither of them had moved much, he could see Ashlard pull Arctur's blade from his chest, but Ashlard his mouth stained red with blood, didn't get up or move at all, what happened?

Even as he watched, the Knurligs started running, it seems whatever happened, had ended the war. The Knurligs decided to flee, Blain pulled a horn, blowing three short bursts, signalling to ride out. He watched as the cavalry rode out onto the battlefield, cutting down fleeing Knurligs. The soldiers on the wall cheered, horns of victory started to sound throughout the city.

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Ashlard sobbed, holding his sisters hand, she had long crossed over, but he couldn't bring himself to leave, crying her name over and over again, he had killed his sister... He was a monster... The sound of horses charging didn't phase him, they passed around him, cutting down the Knurligs, and still he wept. It was only as Runë touched his hand he flinched, looking up, the sky was dark. He had no idea how long he had been crouched there. Turning to look around, there was Blain, King Raynor, Prince Horuth, and the entire royal guard surrounding him. But none had dared to step within reach except Runë. Ashlard looked back at his sister, placing her hand gently by her side, he stood tall, turning to face the King.

"Her name was Amara, she was my twin sister, I... I killed my twin sister..."

Soft hands wrapped around his waist, dropping to his knees, he held Runë tightly, while he continued to sob. The King thought for a moment, before snapping his fingers, Blain approached slowly.

"Step aside Runë," he said.

Runë slowly moved over for Blain, only to gasp as Blain placed shackles onto Ashlard's wrists. Dragging him to his feet, he was marched back into the castle, placed in a familiar looking cell. This time nobody bothered lighting the torch. Leaving him to weep in the darkness...

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It was some time before Ashlard heard approaching footsteps, "drink up," said a cold voice.

Something was placed through the bars, and the person, whoever it was, simply left. The aroma of blood slowly filled the cell, he climbed to his feet, walking over and picking up what turned out to be a wooden bowl. Sniffing deeply, yes... Blood. Licking at the blood, he noticed it wasn't Runë's, he wasn't sure if that were a good thing or not... He hoped she were safe. Ashlard tipped the contents of the bowl into the corridor outside his cell, without knowing it was willingly given, he refused to drink. Then returned to the pile of straw that made his bed, and curled up, hoping to fall asleep. Silently begging that he would wake and find this was all a bad dream.