Thank you to all those that have read. Also I'd like to thank the two of you that have reviewed so far. I've been working very hard on trying to perfect the following chapters and I hope that they will entice you!

Chapter Two: Waylay Overture

Emerald waters foamed up and crashed against the red sandy beach not far from Logs-helm. Situated off the shoreline was a small burned house. Crows circled its open roof cawing for meat. The murderer watched the ocean toss about from a sturdy banister.

"We are free to love each other Peter. Why are you so depressed?" His sheath flashed a glow at every word.

"I think of her often…the woman whom was spared."

"You know they will use her against you."

"If she be fool enough to aid them I will have to sacrifice her to you early on, Augustine." He secured his weapon at his waist then hopped to the earthy landscape below. "We are here for one purpose: To start the clock of End Days. This world will cease to exist."

"Only ninety-six hundred souls left!"

"Gwyn will be the very last. I'll make her death long and sweet."

"And here I thought you wanted to enjoy the leader of the Scarlet Serpentine last."

"Foolhardy punk…I've killed many like her who want to push their idealistic changes on society. She'll fall but she won't take away Gwyn's stage. She will die in the worse way and in my hands only."

"We've found him!"

Warrior voices carried through the wind to Plague. Fifty men fully equipped for battle came charging forward. Water splashed up the sides of their heavy armor. They surrounded him closely. There was no running.

"In the name of Light, in the name of our King, and all of Ealhdun we have come to arrest you. Give up you cretin or be slain where you stand!" The captain stepped forward with his spear extended to the throat of Plague.

"This is sadly familiar."

"Do you surrender!"

"No I will not surrender…I will not!"

Metal blades pierced deep into Plague's greenish flesh twisting sharp pain through his senses. Hollering agonizing exclamations for freedom did nothing to the veterans. They carried out orders with precision. He had committed rape and murder; all of which he envisioned in his battering. So many lives destroyed those left to carry the burden now released their rage. Once the brightness dimmed from his eyes they desecrated his corpse with urine and deep carvings.

"Captain, are you sure that His Majesty will be okay with this?"

"He ordered his head on the spire. He said nothing of the body." The leader replied.

One of his men, a scarred man in leather armor, began to disrobe Plague in search of valuables. Nothing good was there except the katana. He took the blade, Augustine, into his possession.

"Captain Louis may I keep this?" He presented it with care. "It's in good shape."

"No. It will be a trophy to our King."Louis snatched the item. "Men set up camp here! We'll head out at dawn. You boy come here!"

A young child in torn rags ran in front of the warrior. He addressed him as master and bowed.

"Can I look at his body sir?"

"No, this is not sight for a boy. All I ask is that you head out to the capitol and inform the lords that our enemy has been defeated!"

"Right away sir…I'll be as quick as light." The boy shouted before taking off with all his speed.

Night crashed over the makeshift camp. Adrenaline kept the men restless; from all the stories they assumed there would be a terrible skirmish. Some admitted they believed this to be their last sight. In the center there was a large fire where men drank and danced from their clothes. Today was a glorious day.

From the house Captain Louis watched his men. Tired he closed the shutters on the view then turned his focus to the deranged body of Plague. It laid on its back completely naked reeking of what the soldiers had done. Louis stepped over the body to study the being's face.

"I don't know how the Scribes have done it. You look just like the Peter in the old books, a disgusting piece of shit. How does it feel to be treated like your victims?" Louis stomped the breathless body. "I should have tortured you to death like you did my wife and son!"

He kept stomping and battering the corpse until there was no energy left in him. The captain removed his armor revealing his long night shirt. Fresh air seeped between his sweat filled crevasses. He gave Plague one last kick before setting up a cot. Louis got on his knees and said prayers to the light god to give them a safe passage home. He grabbed Augustine and crawled into bed. For good luck he kissed the blade. A glance at the dead man pushed up his cheeks before he drifted into a light sleep.

Heavy gust of winds whistled through the walls. Gentle kisses from the air moved the corpse's eyelashes back and forth. Plague shook from the chill. Smells of piss burned in his nose. He shifted into an indolent crouch. Sparks snapped over his hideous frame. Flames singed smoke into the atmosphere. Louis jumped up from bed and ran to the window. All lights from the camp had been dimmed and the men slept soundly to the ocean noise.

"Why do I smell smoke?"

"You're all sacrifices count yourselves fortunate!"

Black wild fire swiftly devoured the remains of the house; Louis became ash. Plague retrieved his blade before spreading his powerful spell across the sandy beach. The soldiers scrambled but they were inebriated and without proper armor. They had slipped up and they all lost their lives to the fiery darkness. Each deadly particle twirled into the blade and made it flash a poisonous violet.

"Fifty more added to the toll—"

"No Augustine there is but one more. The child headed to the capitol. We must follow him and properly introduce ourselves to the nation. "


Being a resident of Ealhdun's capitol was privilege for those of the highest class. Cool air suited the industrial setting and moist cobblestone roads. Gwyn had never experienced an environment so well groomed but it fazed her little. Watching Ivan die over and over in her mind was the sole thing to occupy her thoughts. Exhaustion kept her rubbing at her wrist to stay focus. She wanted to cry out in mourning. There had to be something to get her to calm down. She did not want those around to assume she was weak of mind but her recollections became harder to manage.

Sitting in front of her was the head witch of all of Ealhdun, Lorain. Her dark ebony skin reflected the street lights that shone through the horse drawn carriage. In all moments this woman remained ascetic. At her side was a warrior also to attend the meeting at the grand palace. It was very hard to remember his long elegant name, so he instructed them to call him Jack. Impatience toyed with Gwyn; these people were so relaxed. People were being slaughtered by Plague! To her cordiality should have ceased and the flag horns of war should have been blasted. Vlad noticed her dismay and desired to break the ice. He looked at the witch across from him.

Loraine nodded then lent a warm smile to the girl. "Jack may not be able to tell, but we magicians can easily hear your loud thoughts. We adding fuel to the fire will not aid in killing the monster, so calm down. This is a whole new arena where only favor gets you the things you want. These mummies have long since forgotten passion."

"She is right." The elder man added. "You must make the king feel good to get anything done around here."

"B-but that's not right." Gwyn's bottom lip quaked. "I watched someone die! People could be killed and they plan to have a party—"

"It's not a party—"

"It is too and I won't go to something as terrible as this! I've read the expenses for these meetings! I have access to them all as a Clerk."

"Then you've taken an oath of death not utter the private matters of the king have you not?" Vlad stared into her green eyes. "This is no party and you shall see why. Now take your seat."

Only then Gwyn had noticed she had bolted up. Careful not to bump her head she sat down. Loraine enjoyed the fervor of her spirit and was equally nervous of it. There were many passionate ones to come before the king. There were also many passionate ones who lost their heads to an axe.

"These meetings are strategy by not only our majesty king but the people he will entertain. Think of it as one big chess match. He puts these on four times a year to further investigate his court and country. Those invited attend to win his favor ergo gaining the things they most desperately need. Those who don't show up are either arrested and or killed. This is the reason you must attend, you were invited. He was planning on doing something big with Logs-helm and then suddenly all of the people there die with you being the sole survivor? Tonight you fight not only for revenge but for your life; for if he finds you guilty you will be killed."

"You gave the impression of me having a choice…why?" Gwyn's fear began to paint her face pale.

"You did. If you were to decline…I am afraid I would've had to—"

"Enough. Gwyn you can trust us. Vlad is not a murderer and neither am I. Jack only kills those who are against this country's safety. If you want to cry about this do it later right now we are closing in on the castle and you must know who you are dealing with."

"Fine, please tell me what I must know."

"There are to be two other persons at table aside from us four. Lesslie Dauntier the warrior prince of Coal. He is next in line to be king and our Majesty wishes to be sure he means our country no harm. The other is his body guard, a man that simply goes by the name Graves."

"The name is appropriate. He is a nasty old demon who's taken on a human form to better serve the Dauntier house. I've never fought him personally but his reputation has reached ears all over the world. He hardly ever spares a soul since he eats them to stay young. He is especially attracted to depressed sorts so keep your wits about you Gwyn." Jack's stern voice shook trembles from her.

"And what of this Lesslie man is he a demon too?"

"Not necessarily. It's best we just leave our conversation now…we've reached the gates."