Calleb curses his mate as he stares into Accashia’s grayish blue eyes. He begins to take a step closer to her. He balled his fist so hard that the sharp nails dig into his palm, blood dripping down from his fist. He’s too angry to feel the pain — to feel how much it hurts. He’s too upset to even notice anything more than the irritation and emotional hurt twisting at his heart. After the confession he made the other night, in Accashia’s eyes, he had always been a murderer. A killer and a bastard. “You wish you had never met me?” Calleb knows this already, knows it as a fact. But it still pains him, for the feelings that were building up inside him were real. The love he felt for Accashia, the adoration and the faith. He had hoped. He tried. He really did. And the young man sighed, not knowing what else to do with the surging of emotions inside of him. “Huh…” He wondered to himself as he shook his head. He could feel Accashia’s eyes on him. Her stare was laced with regret. “Calleb. I
The endless void was beginning to crumble. The otherworldly sight and beings were nothing but silhouettes and shadows and her vision was starting to play tricks on her. Everything was spinning. And it felt like her head was splitting in two. “I. Can’t… breathe…” Ember managed to speak up, her bony skeleton-like hand forcing its way up to her neck — wanting and needing to remove something that seemed to be blocking the air out of her lungs. Like a tightrope was mercilessly tied around her neck. She was sliding out of reality. The curves and angles begin to slip and slide out of alignment in defiance of all the laws of physics. Ember hears the Wicked Witch bark out a curse and words, even as everything begins to fade to gray. “Idiot!” Ursula cursed, mocking the mother. “How can you breathe when you’re dead?! I’m the one that breathed you to life from the dead — and yet you dare to defile me! IMBECILE!” They’re being dragged into a dark, depthless and endless vortex. Then a flash of
While Accashia wouldn’t call herself the sharpest tack in the box, she’s pretty sure that she’s not the stupidest either. More like in between, or damned close to it, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Luntian is trying to tell her something. It’s just that the old woman couldn’t put the right words to it. But then she heard the right words, and it almost rendered her breathless. “You mean we’re going to rescue my mother?!” Accashia cried in panic, she was grabbing onto Luntian’s sleeves tight. Her knuckles were turning white as she grabbed the thick cotton material. “Calm down.” Luntian replied as she stared at Accashia’s eyes. The young lady’s eyes were as cold as ice before. And now her beautiful eyes were sparkling in excitement. Her grayish blue orbs glistened. The warmth in Accahsia’s heart made Luntian smile. “When will we leave?” Accashia asked, and Luntian felt like the question was rhetorical. “I mean… I know where the castle is? Does Calleb know,
The expression ‘bouncing off the walls’ hasn’t really made sense for Accashia just until that night. She felt it on her skin, on her soul and on her entire body. Her heart was racing and as she ran with Calleb — she did not feel fatigue or tired. She was exhilarated, the thought of releasing her mother’s soul was enough to give her the energy of the world. The three of them were still pretty far from the castle. The thistles of the forest prickling the soles of her feet. As she ran, she kept her eyes on the castle, staring at it intently. “We’re close.” Luntian said as she was running behind them. “Keep your eyes open. The Castle of Shaldan is near.” As Calleb’s eyes looked up, he stared at the moon. The insistent pressure of the battle streaming into his insides. Unlike Accashia, he wasn’t excited nor was he nervous. But he felt like something heavy and raw was about to dawn on him — the only thing is he doesn’t know what or why. It took him the better part of half an hour before
Inside the thriving Village within the deadly forest of the East. Men and women from all over the Village participated in a duel. Something that they usually do to keep themselves strong, a play-pretend, gladiator-like set-up that the village head thought of. To maintain a strong community of hunters and huntresses just in case someone or rather, something would make the mistake of taking over their humble home. “You’re rather distracted today.” Xaphar told him Keith conversationally. Other than being a bit hard and slightly cool to the touch, it was actually rather comfortable and Keith had to breathe out a sigh of relief as he sank into the chair. He was wounded from the spar he had with Tyrone — the strongest hunter in their nameless village. Last round before the festival of the Lobo begins. The festival where they celebrate the life given to them by the great Lobo. When the great god breathed life to their people, their ancestors. He winced slightly as the burn along his arm
“Wh-who is attacking us?” Keith asked breathlessly. He knew he should be frightened — and he was … somewhere deep inside his heart — but for some reason. He felt more ill rather than scared, more nauseated rather than terrified. Something felt wrong. Something evil was coming towards them. Something dark and unknown. He could feel it – he didn’t know and he didn’t care to guess but it was almost like waves of evil were emanating from somewhere ahead of them. The forest — the trees and the bushes before him seemed to gape open, and the sound of trees crashing against the ground made him take a step back. A sound so loud resounded and it hurt his ears, making his ears ring and he gritted his teeth. The sound was so loud that it resembled a cannon being fired. And when he saw the creatures — the monsters that were responsible for all the commotion, Tyrone had to blink a few times to make sure that he wasn’t having a nightmare. The light from the stars and the moon were obscured by a w
He had imagined that he would have felt remorseful or even the slightest bit shocked but it surprised him, and scared him — that he felt a sense of defeat and a great sense of loss. It almost felt as if seeing and hearing that he wasn’t the only beast around left him completely mortified and yet he was not. He saw an illusion of another beast. It appeared then it was gone in a snap of a finger. Calleb thought what could be or what could have been the best thing that he could have done. For he was left motionless, and almost felt number when the Shadows fists landed on his jaw and stomach. He heard another sniff and then another one of the Shadows moved into the light. And then another and another … and another. Within moments, six more of those creatures appeared, twining their bodies against one another, coating each other with more blood and more human remains. Rotten flesh, absolutely putride and gut wrenching. The stench was unbearable and Calleb had to hold on to his breath fo
Calleb growled, there's an unexplainable ache in his heart and he wonders why he is remembering his mother’s face right now. "Don’t play with me..." “And why would I play games with you, hm, Calleb Shaldan?” The Wicked Witch raised one eyebrow in mock surprise. “I’d never play around with royal blood. After all… I was one of the anointed ones to serve you.” Ursula let out a loud cackle and it made Calleb grit his teeth in sheer frustration, obviously the witch was playing with them. And he did not like it one bit. She flicked a quick glance at Luntian, which surprised the Shaman after seeing how much Ursula had changed. “And you… my dear sister, Luntian. I’ve heard that you’ve been taking care of the young Prince ever since the day his parents died. Then… Why didn’t you tell him about me? About why his parents died. How many years have passed since that day? Hm? 600 years or more, perhaps?” “What is that twisted woman talking about, huh, Luntian.” Calleb growled through gritted teet