Hiding out

[Azrael Emony]

The Overlord puffed his way up the large hills, falling here and there. He had a blood trailing behind him from his wound, but he couldn’t help that. The dagger had entered his shoulder deep and he couldn’t seem to stop the blood flow from leaking from his body like a cracked pipe. When Azrael was a ways up hidden in the mountains, he leaned back on the rock sliding down onto the ground.

Breathing heavy, the man looked down at his wound and just winched at the thought of it. A small light green aura started to surround his wound and slowly heal. It was from some of the magic he took from Kellan, but the healing was so slow it would take about two days for it to heal fully. The Overlord held his wound and looked around at the night, hopefully he had damaged the vampire enough she wouldn’t track him.

(blah..bad muse..bad muse....)

[Jahanara]

Jahanara was wandering...again.

That was all she seemed to do. Even though Zara had accepted her into the Forest Lycans clan, she still felt a certain detachment. Probably because she was different from Zara. She held no contempt for the human race; only confusion, and mild frustration, with the fact that they could not accept anyone different from them. She'd lived in that village for most of her life, and had many friends...but they all betrayed her when they found out her secret.

The silent padding of black paws on the hard-packed dirt path leading up into the mountains left footprints, but Jahanara couldn't be bothered to avoid a hunter. Who would be hunting her, after all? If the group of humans who had been hunting her before somehow made their way into Dreygen, she'd find out about it before they could find her. A pang of sorrow twisted her gut--the one who had claimed to love her was the one leading that hunt. And he was intelligent, clever; his was part of the reason she'd fallen in love with him.

The black wolf shook her head, trying to snap herself out of such woe. Zara had been right; this was no time for self-pity. Especially since there was an evildoer on the loose.

Jahanara had heard of his entrance into Dreygen, and his fight with the vampiress Kellan. She won, apparently, and Jahanara did not doubt that. She'd met Kellan once before, and she gave an aura of immense power. Power that this lycaness probably would never attain, but she didn't really care. She had her strength, her speed, her dual body, and her mindo--what more did she need?

It was then that she smelled the blood.

Jahanara's ears perked up at the scent, trying to detect if the source was moving. It was not. So she set off in the direction of the smell, on her guard constantly, her ears swivelling around on her head in order to sense any others that may be lurking nearby. Her yellow eyes moved incessantly, aware of every shadow, every bush, every spot that someone could be sitting and waiting for her. The smell grew stronger; she was growing closer. Jahanara decided that she would deal with this in her human form, since it may be better not to alarm whoever it was with the appearance of a wolf. A girl was much less of a threat to most.

She made the transformation, changing from a black wolf to a girl with ebony hair that fell straight most of the way down her back, porcelain skin, and a moon and star pendant dangling from her neck. She wore pants and a tunic made of a soft and durable brown cloth, and a tight shirt underneath the tunic colored deep green, like the moss that grows at the base of trees. Her eyes, though, remained yellow, instead of turning back to their usual greyish-blue. The smell of blood simply would not permit that change.

She walked around the corner with deliberate care and slowness. She found a man lying on the ground, blood pooling around his body from a deep gash in his flesh. But that wound was glowing slightly. He's using magic to heal it, she deduced, but it's healing slowly. He must not be powerful in that particular area. Jahanara could tell he was strong in other realms of magic. And he had a dark aura. Could this possibly be the evil overlord of the outer world who had fought with Kellan?

Jahanara did not assume anything. She merely stood there, stock still and silent. She would have spoken, but she really couldn't think of anything to say. So instead she watched him with her glowing yellow eyes, waiting for him to speak.

[Azrael Emony]

Azrael heard the sound of quiet footsteps; the overlord looked in that direction with narrow eyes. Kellan must have followed him here, just what he was hoping she wouldn’t do.

The overlord stood tall after he saw the woman with yellow glowing eyes. This one indeed wasn’t Kellan, but someone knew. Heavy chains fell to the ground and dragged as Azrael moved forward. By the feel of her aura, she was a Lycan, a werewolf so to say.

There was a loud scrapping sound as the overlord unsheathed his long iron claymore and slammed it into the ground in front of him. Azrael’s long cape flapped in the smooth wind currents, and his glowing green eyes burned through her soul. He has sucked many of her kind dry.

This girl looked young and beautiful, but that wouldn’t flatter him into some kind of fool. Most fell for a girl with charming looks, but Azrael didn’t seem the least bit interested in her.

Not a word came from the evil figure; he just stood there like a statue. If she wanted to fight, then it was a fight she was never going to forget. Just because he’s wounded at the moment did not mean he was an easy defeat.

[Jahanara]

Jahanara watched him look at her, studying her, and then rise. Her muscles tensed, poised to run or fight--if it came to that, of course. He was badly wounded, though, and the smell of blood was making her dizzy. But the lycaness stood firm, repeatedly telling herself that she was one of the fastest runners around, and could therefore get away if she needed to. Despite the wound, she could tell he was still pretty strong, so fighting might be a bad decision.

In turn, Jahanara began studying him. He was dragging along large chains behind him for some reason. I wonder why, she mused, thinking it must be symbolic of something. Like the human tale about their holiday Christmas, where there are ghosts--one had chains all around him because he was always a slave to his work during life. There had to be some good reason why this being carried around such a burden.

He withdrew a large sword from a sheath strapped to his side and threw it into the ground. Jahanara's sensitive ears caught the sound from the vibrations and she cringed slightly. Then, she took a precautionary step back, eyeing him warily. She knew that such an action would be considered by him a sign of weakness, but to her it was nothing of the sort. Running was only one way to get out of trouble, whether considered cowardly or not by others. She could feel his eyes burning through her, but she did hold fast, averting her own gaze to the ground.

There was also the fact that she was a bit afraid of him. Finally, in an urge to break the silence, she looked back up. "Who are you?" she demanded, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

[Azrael Emony]

The overlord noticed her eyes were gazing at his chains, they seemed to spark her interest, flooding her mind with wonder and mystery. The iron rings were indeed heavy, but Azrael had enough strength it would have no big strain on him. The girl asked him who he was. He just stood there, still not giving her the answer she seeks.

Why was this lycan even speaking with him? Everyone knew who he was, why wasn’t she one of them? The overlord narrowed his glowing green eyes a second before they went to normal state. Suddenly his chains came alive and one wrapped itself around her neck. Two others grabbed her legs and his last one snatched her right arm. All together, the chains put her about five feet above the ground.

Sure, she might have a free hand, but there was no way she was getting anywhere. These chains were strong enough she wouldn’t be able to break through them. His claymore remained pinned into the ground and his hands didn’t even flinch. His intention wasn’t to kill her, or harm her at that.

“Everyone knows me for what I am.” The voice was strong and low pitched, “For I am the Overlord that has return after being banished out of here by the magical forest. They thought that would hold me forever, but it seems that your plans failed. I have returned, and I plan to finish what I’ve started.”

The chains started too tightened on its grip so intensely that it would start grinding itself through the woman’s flesh. “Weren’t you ever told its was curiosity that killed the cat?”

Azrael smiled under his mask and he yanked the sword from the soil and pointed it up at her face. “You have a choice girl. You join me as my servant, or die right here. You knowing me as an overlord, you should know I can suck the power right out of you, keeping it for my own.”

[Jahanara]

Jahanara's tensed muscles tightened still, and she almost ran at the sign of the chains moving--but, alas, they were too quick for her. He was powerful, indeed.

Well, her curiosity had been satisfied, and her question answered. Here she beheld the powerful evil that threatened Dreygen's existence, which included her own. And he had those heavy, awful chains wrapped around her limbs and throat, and her body was suspended in midair. She noticed that she was still tense, her body stiff, and immediately she relaxed herself. She was afraid, yes, but not enough to lose her cool. If he wanted to kill her, he would have just done so.

Then he demanded her servitude, threatening death if she refused. Jahanara rolled her eyes, forgetting self control for a moment. As if she would submit to that. And I hope he doesn't expect me to answer his question, she thought to herself, since I can barely breathe, let alone talk. She had an odd feeling that he would try to penetrate her mind, as well, so she threw up steel walls around her mind. That was one thing she was incredibly powerful in, blocking out mental intruders.

Next, the issue of getting out of these chains. She thought as quickly as she could, knowing time was not to be wasted, wondering how she could possibly manuever her way out of such a trap. All the while her walls were up; Jahanara let her body hang limp so that most of her strength would go to protecting the sacred and private place that was her mind. After a minute or so, she had a plan, and immediately set out to free herself of those heavy bonds.

As fast as lightning, Jahanara's body slid from that of a woman to that of a wolf, and her limbs and head became thinner, allowing her to slip out of the chains. As soon as she hit the ground, Jahanara righted herself and bolted down the trail, as far away as she could go without removing him from her sight. Then she stopped and watched him, transforming once again into human form and continuing to watch him. Her eyes continued to glow yellow from the smell of blood, but her self control was better than that.

She panted hard, overcome by a bout of exhaustion from running as fast as she could after not properly breathing for some time. Soon enough, her breathing was back to normal, and she decided to take a very daring move, going against her own better judgement. Her emotions were, once again, getting the better of her. Jahanara called out to the evil overlord: "I hope you've figured out my answer by now," with an attitude befitting the stereotypical human teenager.

[bujingyi201]

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