Rage

He was skinny, with dark hair, but his features were indistinguishable as he was severely bruised and swollen. Bleeding from his nose with dried blood around a cut on his lip. The man clambered to his feet.

"So the boy really was honest," said the figure, gesturing towards Ashlard, Blain only then noticed that his eyes never left Rothkin. "lets settle this then, Rothkin, what are your terms?"

Rothkin, looked pale as he shifted from side to side, thinking desperately how he could turn this to his favour, and with an evil grin, he whispered something to a guard, who ducked off through the door.

"Shield and sword," he said casually.

The centre of the room was emptied, only Ashlard remained, staring defiantly at Rothkin. A guard dropped Ashlard's sword beside him, before gesturing towards a wall of shields. Ashlard snarled, kicking his sword against the wall, before locking eyes with Rothkin... How he hated this man... How he couldn't wait to break him...

The sounds of a struggle dew attention, the door behind Rothkin flew open and a young woman was thrown into the room, wearing a revealing leather tunic, Rothkin quickly grabbed her, pulling her upright and taking a hold of the chain at the base of her neck, he spun her around to face Ashlard and drew his sword.

Ashlard felt a momentary pang of regret, before pushing it aside, he would make her death quick and painless if need be, but Rothkin would suffer before the end. Ashlard approached the pair, getting ready to tear the air itself apart, when Rothkin drove his sword into the woman's hip, using it as a brutal cattle prod, to position the woman between them. The woman cried out in pain, the cold steel passing through her soft flesh, she tried to pull away, but Rothkin yanked on the chain and twisted the sword slightly, causing the woman to arch back, her blonde hair falling away from her face, exposing blue eyes, and a dimpled chin... How?

White... Hot... Burning... Anger... Ashlard couldn't focus any more... All he could feel was an intense desire to embrace this beautiful woman, and eat the man holding her captive... Surging with energy, Ashlard rose to his full height, scales extending themselves like black waves passing over his skin, his wings extending straight out to the sides and his eyes burning so brightly, they illuminated the walls, casting demonic shadows throughout the chamber.

The woman went white with fear, this wasn't the first time she had seen this beast. Before she had time to scream, he simply disappeared, reappearing beside her, she flinched as the blade was pulled from her hip, quickly followed by the sound of a sharp crack and the bandit Rothkin released her.

Falling to her stomach, she scrambled away, turning around. She witnessed with silent horror, as the beast tore Rothkin's arm off at the shoulder before grasping his head in one hand. She watched in horror as Rothkin screamed in agony, the sound punctuated by snapping and crunching sounds.

The beast lifted him from the ground, Rothkin grasping pathetically at the beasts wrist with his good hand, before the beast simply drove a single claw into the base of his neck, his body going limp almost immediately.Rothkin was dropped onto the ground, completely limp, but his eyes, open in terror, and his mouth gaping open and shut in a lame attempt to breathe. The beast bent over him, driving claws into each eye socket with one hand, and grasping his jaw with the other, and with a violent twist, tore the jaw away in a single piece. The beast slowly rose to it's full height, but remained staring at the body, the only sign of life the tongue, rolling around for a full minute before slowing and finally going limp. She felt hands on her, dragging her backwards, it was the figure in the hood. This close, she could make out a beak from under the hood, and the hands that grasped her were more like the talons of a great bird.

"Well well," said the figure, "aren't we full of surprises?" Flicking his head back, revealing his face, the feathers and beak of a great eagle. One by one, the guards shimmered, some forming figures, like apes, dogs, and even one with a surprising reptilian resemblance to Ashlard, without the glowing eyes. "If you want the girl..." he said, "join me, I'll not give her up willingly."

Ashlard's eyes flashed brighter for a moment, how dare this creature attempt to bargain with him... how dare he insinuate that he couldn't take the woman away from this place... How dare he touch her at all... The light from his eyes faded, his pupils turned jet black, endlessly deep, swallowing all signs of life, Ashlard was gone... Only the beast remained.

Dousing the room with flames, most of the guards were incinerated before they could react to the attack, a spiked tail formed at his rear, his body contorting to accommodate his new adaption, flicking the tip of it around caused the air itself to shriek, and as the remaining guards attempted to overpower him they were torn to pieces, if not from the tail, then by great slashes from the beasts claws, or by being crushed in the jaws of the demonic beast. Ashlard turned towards the leader of the bandits only to witness sharp claws being dragged across her delicate throat. The woman collapsing to the ground, gasping for air. Ashlard tackled the man into the wall behind, crushing his body in a single blow sending a shower of shattered stone pieces flying around the room. Ashlard stood up, turning around, he saw Blain carrying the prince out of the room, quickly followed by Blain's men. The only one remaining was the woman, crawling slowly away, leaving a trail of blood.

Ashlard quickly closed on her, flipping her onto her back, he lowered his fanged maw to sate his thirst, when she muttered something... Pausing, he retracted slightly, she coughed up some blood, before...

"A...Ashlard," she said, "please... No..."

FLASH

The woman from the forest... tied to a tree and tortured by a Knurlig, the limp body of a man hangs beside her.

FLASH

Ashlard's eyes light up, he remembers her now, she's bleeding, there's not much time, she must be saved... He'd do it right this time. Tensing his throat, his venom welled up in his mouth. Raising himself up slightly, he lifted her upright, rolling her head to one side, tears welling up in her eyes as she mouthed "please."

He gripped her tightly, before drooling his venom over the deep cuts on her neck. She only screamed for a second, before Ashlard camped his jaw over her neck, licking away the venom, leaving the wound cauterised. She needed a healer, but she wasn't going to bleed to death. Ashlard cradled her gently as he carried her from the catacombs. She drifted in and out of consciousness for the thousandth time as he placed her on a kite-shield and dragged her down a narrow passage, before lifting her into a dark forest. She glanced around for a moment before realising there were kings soldiers surrounding them, before giving in to her exhaustion and going limp. Ashlard carried her over to the old familiar wagon, laying her gently in the back, before covering her in a horse blanket. He flinched as a sudden impact to his head knocked him sideways. Spinning around, he found himself face to face with Blain.

"YOU'VE KILLED HIM," Blain roared, "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KEEP YOURSELF UNDER CONTROL!"

Ashlard looked beyond Blain, to the young boy, lying limp on the ground, with Con pressing a cloth to his chest, trying to stop bleeding from a deep gash across the boys chest. Ashlard realised the explosion of stone pieces had injured several of the men, but the Prince was so close to the impact, he had taken a large shard directly to the chest.

Ashlard stepped around Blain and approached the Prince. His eyes were closed, there were drying tears on his cheeks and his breathing shallow. Ashlard tensed his throat, gathering venom again, before quickly pulling Con's hands free and drooling liquid firenacross the wound and licking it clean again. This time he was too late, the Prince didn't even shudder, he just stopped breathing. Ashlard felt the weight of the world fall upon him... This was his fault... An old instinct kicked in. retracting his scales, Ashlard gripped his chest, cutting straight through the bone with his own talons. He placed his hand directly on his heart, feeling the sharp throbbing beneath his hand, he found what almost felt like a seam and running his claw along it, a large piece came free in his hand.

FLASH

Binding her heart to his, to save her life

FLASH

Ashlard quickly cut a hole in the Princes chest as Blain grabbed his arm trying to prevent him from working. Ashlard threw him off, shooting him a quick look, he hoped looked like an apology, before fitting the piece of his own heart, over the princes. For a moment, nothing happened, then with a slight hiss and the smell of burning flesh, the two pieces became one, and the Prince flinched in pain. Ashlard was taken aback when suddenly he could feel the Prince's wound running across his chest. And just as quickly, he collapsed.

When Ashlard woke up he was in an unfamiliar place, naked, it was pitch black, walls made of stone, lying on a bed of straw and feeling the weight of a huge chain attached to a ring around his neck and anchored on the floor. He remembered nothing since binding his heart. And now it appeared he was imprisoned. He waited for what felt an age before the sound of approaching footsteps began to echo from the distance. Soon there was a faint light and Ashlard could see that he was indeed in a barred cell. It was bare, save the bed and what appeared a hole in the floor opposite the door.

"Ya awake then... Spose I best leave you light," said a voice, as a large man came into view, "I'll send for food as well."

"Where am I?" asked Ashlard.

The man chuckled, "Don't you worry yourself, it's my job to keep you alive until the king demands otherwise, and that's all you need to know."

The man reached through the bars with a burning torch, igniting one just inside the cell, before dissolving into the darkness again. Now he could see, Ashlard got up, stretching his aching muscles. He traced the scar across his heart, and wondered if it had worked, what was the fate of the prince?

As he paced the cell, the sounds of scraping chains masked the sound of approaching footsteps, only realising when he spotted the approaching light source. Unsure of what to do, Ashlard simply stood in the centre of the room, facing the door, when Blain appeared before him.

"Here lad," he said, tossing a plain tunic through the bars.

Ashlard slowly got dressed, having to awkwardly pull the tunic up from the bottom because of the chain.

"So what now?" asked Ashlard.

Blain simply unlocked the door and stood aside as a smaller figure stepped forward. Dressed in a brown, simple dress, cut just below her knees, blonde hair, blue eyes, a dimpled chin and a huge mottled purple scar across her neck... She was shaking, crying silently and carrying a tray of food as Blain opened the door. The young woman hesitated before stepping into the cell, she wouldn't look at Ashlard as she slowly stepped towards him. Ashlard was overcome with emotion, seeing her here, seeing her alive, he collapsed to his knees, causing her to jump slightly.

"You're alive," he said, "I'm so sorry... for everything... "

His eyes stung, hot tears running down his cheeks, "I'm sorry," Ashlard cried, his shoulders trembled with emotion.

The young woman placed the tray on the ground, patted him gently on the shoulder, and left, Ashlard listened to her footsteps fade into nothingness.

"You saved her life," said Blain, "but you took her voice..."

"I just.... I couldn't let her die," said Ashlard between heaving sobs.

"Her name is Runë," Blain said softly, "She's terrified beyond belief of you, but she's grateful you saved her," Blain turned and walked away, leaving Ashlard to his meal.

What must have been hours later, Blain and Runë returned with more food, Ashlard was still kneeling in the middle of the room, the tray of food untouched where Runë had placed it. Blain didn't have anything to say, he just opened the cell and Runë swapped the trays. Ashlard didn't acknowledge their presence, he was drawn into self loathing, he'd ruined everything. He had no past, no friends, no family, no future, he just wanted to die. At least then this beautiful woman would have nothing to fear any more.

The next time Runë brought his meal, she placed it directly in front of him, pushing the tray gently against his knees. She stood for a few moments, before leaving. Glancing back at him as the door to his cell closed. Picking up the tray with one hand, Ashlard hurled it with all his strength at the cell door, smashing into pieces, sending bits of splintered wood, hurtling into the darkness. Before staggering to his feet, and retreating into the darkest corner, furthest from the torch, and sitting with his back facing the cell door.

The next visit he received, Runë was confused as she walked in, it took her several moments to realise the tray was gone because he had thrown it, with a scowl, she stormed towards Ashlard, placing the tray on the ground she did the only thing she could think of and poked him in the back of the head. Ashlard quickly rose to his feet, turning towards her with a menacing growl he took a step forward as she stepped back.

Blain, seeing what was happening, drew his sword and moved to protect Runë, when she surprised them both, reaching back, she slapped Ashlard. They were both stunned, Blain wasn't sure what was about to happen, and Ashlard had no intention to retaliate, he just wanted to be left alone to die. But as he pondered his next action, he was overcome with a dizzy spell, falling sideways, he hit the ground with a thud. How long he had been unconscious before waking in this cell, he didn't know, but he felt as if he hadn't eaten in a week. Feeling soft hands on his shoulder, he found himself being shaken by Runë, and not wanting to hurt her, he quickly got on all fours, and crawled back to the corner, collapsing against the wall, and going to sleep.

The following day was no better, Runë brought him food, different kinds, fruits, vegetables, broths, stew's and even curries. Blain never said a word, even as Runë tried to physically force feed Ashlard by pouring soup into his mouth. Ashlard's response was to extend a single wing, and curling into a ball, cover himself from head to foot like a leather cloak. Blain wasn't sure what would happen if Ashlard died, would the prince live on? Are their fates bound? He could hardly blame Ashlard, the boy didn't deserve to rot in a cell.

Blain was still pondering what could be done as he carried a chair for Runë, she was going to sit down in the cell with Ashlard and attempt to coax him into eating, it was a simple meal, bread, cheese, a carrot and a bucket of fresh water. Placing the chair on the floor, he unlocked the cell, he could make out Ashlard's figure on the far side, at the sound of the door, Ashlard's wing extended, covering himself from head to foot, the only sign of him still living.

Runë was terrified, she knew what she was doing was stupid, but she had pieced together enough information from Blain and the others that she had to try. He hadn't hurt her so far... Placing the tray of food on the floor by the door, she dragged the chair into the room, before quickly wedging it under the door frame. Blain leapt into action, trying to open the door, but it was wedged shut, these cells opened inwards to prevent blocking the corridor, and with the bars being open, unruly prisoners could be persuaded to cooperate with spears, bows or hot coals, but this was a problem.

" Runë!" yelled Blain, "What are you doing?"

Reaching down between her bosom, Runë extracted a small knife, she turned, nodding slowly towards Blain.

"Ashlard!" Blain cried, "STOP HER!"

Ashlard, hearing the panic in Blain's voice, lowered his wing, and twisting around he could see Runë standing behind him, she was standing awkwardly, like she was giving herself a hug, and with a quick yank, he spotted a flash of silver, and the feeling of something wet splash on his cheek. Then the smell hit, the overwhelming stench of blood, it reached out to him. Blain was screaming like a madman, charging into the cell door over and over again, trying to dislodge the chair. Ashlard pulled his head down, forcing his face into the corner of the wall, as hard as he could.

She smelled so good, but he couldn't, he needed to die, why wouldn't she let him die? Runë walked towards him, dropping to her knees, she leaned towards him, Blain was trying to hack away at the chair with his sword now, screaming at Runë to get away from him, but she ignored Blain, and taking Ashlard's head in her hands, she pulled him closer. Ashlard was crying now, shaking uncontrollably, he didn't understand why she was doing this, he wanted her so badly and as she pulled him closer, he could see the wound. A shallow cut on her shoulder, beside her neck, it wasn't life threatening, but even as he stared, a fresh stream of blood began oozing out of it, pooling slightly on her collarbone before running down her neck, staining her blouse crimson.

Ashlard couldn't resist any more, licking the blood from her neck, his head tingled slightly, like a whisper in the darkness. Feeling hands press against the back of his head, pulling him closer, he gave in, without thinking, he extended his fangs, sinking them deeply into her neck, allowing her to consume him, as he consumed her.

FLASH

Humming, beautiful humming, a tender voice, it doesn't make any sense, talking to itself and someone else at the same time... no... talking to Ashlard...

FLASH

Ashlard tried to pull away, what was this? Runë's hands held him tight, she was making hushing sounds

FLASH

Humming again, the same tune, and a voice, as if talking from different rooms of a large building, it was a voice of thanks, of fear, of a desire to help. Planning to persuade Ashlard was an act of devotion, she wanted him to live, as he had allowed her to live.

FLASH

Ashlard pulled away hard, holding Runë at arms length, she was crying, Ashlard rose to his feet, pulling her upright as well, Blain finally managed to smash through the door, Ashlard shoved Runë towards him before howling like a demon, whirling around and driving his clawed fist into the wall. Feeling the massive stone wall crack beneath the blow, he hit it again, and again, and again until pieces of stone began falling away from the wall. Ashlard fell to his knees, placing his head on the stone, and screamed, a long, painful scream, one the very foundations of his prison could feel. Hearing the click of the cell door being locked, Ashlard turned around, sitting with his back against the wall, he was staring at Blain, tending to Runë's neck, while she locked eyes with him, a faint smile on her lips, and a dozen heavily armed men, standing either side of them, pointing heavy crossbows at his chest. Ashlard leaned over, grabbing the loaf of bread, tearing off a piece with his teeth, finally settling into a meal.

The days came easier now, Ashlard waited patiently for Blain and Runë to visit, he treasured her gentle touch as she passed him his meal, their hands would briefly meet, and she would sit with him a few minutes while he ate. Blain never said a word until it was time to leave, even then, he would only grunt and Runë would get up and leave. This was the routine for several days, until Ashlard noticed he was hungrier than usual. Runë's next visit, he couldn't shake the feeling, he felt uneasy, and he sniffed the air, catching her scent, Runë shifted uncomfortably and she left shortly after. Ashlard didn't know what to do, he knew he would have to feed eventually, he didn't want to attack her, should he ask Blain for help? Would Blain care? Maybe they would stop coming altogether? He hoped it wouldn't come to that.