The wooded alcove where Athakyn had seated himself was perfect. The dense trees caught
the April breeze and sent it his way. He sat beneath the trees, gazing through the lush foliage
admiring the clear sky. He could hardly image that the world he returned to had changed so much.
He remembered the way his elders had told him it was when they were young. A paradise of green
trees and flowering pastures, a place of magic and goodness. He imagined how the crashing waves
must have looked like the sea was motioning you back to the brine. But all he saw were the
monsters that crawled from the depths. He tried hard to remember the pictures of the night,
filled with stars and people dancing around glowing fires. Again his thoughts stole away his
smile as visions of vampires crept in from the dark. No, the world he was in now was a harsh and
demanding place, craving every soul still determined to walk it. And he was to blame. He knew
he personally wasn't responsible, but taking on the burden was what kept him going. Swallowing
the pride of a million dead kindred allowed him to continue the fight. I, Athakyn de Amstaad,
will continue the fight, he thought to himself.
He had been travelling for quite a few days, walking hundreds of miles. He knew he could
have phased down the ley-line he had been following, but he got a deep satisfaction out of
walking the distances before him. His life was to be invariably longer than most, so he ambled
through the daily routines, enjoying the time before the summer swelter. As an afterthought, he
knew his awaiting companions were just as long-lived, and besides, they could wait since they
left him behind in the first place. As the last thought drifted away like the wind, he finished
removing his left boot. He wiggled his toes to stretch them out and then pulled up his legs to
sit comfortably upon his rock. From his deerskin leggings he produced a knife and dipped it into
the jar of jam he pulled from the pack lying next to him. He stuck the knife in his mouth and
tasted the sweet jam as he rolled it around his mouth. He began humming a soft tune as he hunted
around in his pack for the bread he knew he bought two days ago. As he reached to the farthest
bottom of the pack he felt the plastic bag of the bread. He pulled it out in satisfaction, but
immediately he smile changed to a frown. The bread was completely smashed into one
indistinguishable lump. He held the bread up at eye level, admiring the rather intricate form it
had taken. Then, his eyes went from admiration to apprehension. Looking over the top of the
bag, a scant twenty yards away, was the second largest beast he had ever seen.
The thing easily stood four times Athakyn's already towering frame. It was also four
times as wide. He saw it lying down, or crouching, in between five very large oaks. The shadows
played across its back and where the sun ran across its back, the scales soaked up the light.
The rhythmic breathing echoed silently to Athakyn's ears. He was paralyzed still, the knife
still in his mouth and the bread held up in front of him, almost like he was giving an offering
to some great god-thing. As he realized the beast was not awake, he slowly lowered the bread and
placed it gently on the rock where he was sitting. He opened his mouth wide enough to release
the knife which he placed on top of the bread. He then placed his hands on either side of
himself and lifted his legs off the rock surface and slowly extended his legs down the side of
the rock until his feet sank into the soft earth. He next hand-walked down the rock slowly
making his body come into a crouched ball. All the time he kept his eyes on the sleeping thing,
not knowing how sensitive the beast's senses were. As his head lowered beyond the rock, he began
to regret his decision to walk.
Battle plans began to formulate in his head. He wondered if he would be able to defeat the
great beast in combat, should that event occur. He did not intend to fight the beast, but he also
had no such intentions of dying. As these thoughts raced through his mind, he instinctively led his
hand to his left chest, touching the heart tattooed there. A soft blue glow pulsed from the
image and slowly engulfed his arm and continued to envelop his body, stopping only as it
completed his form. He lowered his hand again and raised his head to see if the beast slept on.
He raised from behind the rock and peered into the copse of trees. He saw nothing. And then he
knew the beast was on him.
Athakyn turned to his left long enough to see the huge clawed feet driving toward him
from the trees. The trees splintered before it and Athakyn was hit squarely in the chest. The
blow picked him off his feet and carried him some distance into another tree. Athakyn slumped to
the ground, trying to catch his breath from the blow. He glimpsed movement to his left and
managed to duck in time as a long, thick tail sliced the tree in two, inches above where his head
once was. He rolled away and looked up. Standing merely twenty feet in front of him was the
beast, displaying it body in full glory. The head reared back and released an air-splitting
scream that caused Athakyn to recoil in pain. Athakyn fell heavily to the ground and rolled to
his right as one foreleg smashed the ground. As he completed the roll, he came up touching the
image of a crossbow with flaming bolts. He knew that there was no running now. And he knew he
was going to have to fight. The massive beast that was charging his direction showed no signs of
making any negotiations.
MORE TO COME!!!