Tyrothane Keltier's Story

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A solid, single knock on his door pulled his attention. Tyrothane moved from where he’d been standing while getting the rest of his attire prepared. The long white coat covered his black leather shirt beneath, crisscrossed with strips of leather that stretched down his lithe frame to his hips where the buckles came together to hold on the sheathes to his many weapons. A single piece of metal covered the vital area around his throat, not too high up as to make it suffocating to move in.

Opening the wooden door, he peered out at who had summoned his attention. Once he laid his gaze onto the tall imposing figure of the Captain of the guard, he immediately swung open the door and clenched his fist to his chest as he bowed to the man in a formal greeting. The enormous Captain crossed his arms over his chest as he gave a sigh at the youth’s display.

“At ease, Tyrothane. We’re not on duty nor are we in the public eye right now.”

“Captain,” the dark haired knight responded as he straightened and returned into the room with the Captain right behind him. The large man had an eye patch across his right eye, a giant scar running down from over the eye to his neck. There were other scars that crisscrossed the man’s imposing frame; most were only seen during training when the Captain only wore a black jerkin to spar with the other men.

“You’re being summoned. Congratulations, Tyrothane. You’ve been promoted to a very rewarding and difficult job.”

“The sarcasm in your voice is easy to pick out, Captain.”

The man smirked, “Sharp as ever. You’re going to be the King’s bodyguard. How’s that for a punch line?”

Tyrothane stopped as he’d been pulling on the large gauntlet to cover his left hand. Turning, he looked up at the Captain with shock in his gaze, “The King’s bodyguard? Well, the attacks have increased.”

“Yup. What a pain in the ass job that’ll be.”

“That’s treasonous, Captain,” the young knight responded calmly as he finished pulling on the gauntlet and flexing his fingers to make sure the metal claws were still functional.

“It’s the truth. Don’t get me wrong. He’s a great King and takes care of his own, but he’s damned difficult to work with. Now you get to be with him 24/7. I wonder if even you can handle it. I’m sure you’ve got your own limits don’t you?”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out. If it’s protecting someone, I’m fairly confident I can do it. Besides, he is our King and I will do anything for the crown.”

“This is the King we’re talking about. Are you even on the same page as I am?”

“Yes. Should I be doubting my skill?” Tyrothane asked, turning his head off to the side as he regarded his Captain.

“No,” he sighed, “Well in any case, I wish you the best of luck. I have a feeling this is really going to test you.”

“I’ll be fine, but thank you for your concern, Captain.”

The man released a heavy sigh as he reached up and scratched at his balding scalp, “Alright, come on, let’s get you to the throne room so that our King can meet you.”

Tyrothane left the room, striding into the hall that led to the main castle as the barracks were situated just on the other side of the palace. Behind him the Captain fell into step, mumbling about his hopes that the King would receive Tyrothane well. They crossed the open walkway that passed through the gardens and soon entered the enormous castle from a side entrance known only to those that worked in the castle.

In a few minutes they were heading down the near empty hall towards the throne room. Their boots clicked against the black polished floor beneath them as they walked briskly towards the imposing double doors of deep mahogany. Once they were there, the two guards on either side of the door pushed open the dark colored wood to allow the pair entrance into the hall of the throne room. They approached the throne rapidly, coming to a halt several feet from the dais.

“My Lord,” the Captain started, bowing to him much the same as Tyrothane had done to him not to long ago, “I’ve brought your appointed body guard. Starting from now on, he will be by your side at all times. He will protect you with his life and serve you well. He is called Tyrothane, my Lord.”

With his name given, Tyrothane stepped forward and bowed to his King. Strangely he felt a heavy tension in the air as he was presented to the dark haired King sitting above him. He pushed it aside though, passing it off as nothing but the nervous tension flooding from the others present in the room.

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The King's day had started awfully, as often his days did. Being awake much earlier than he should have been, due to terrible dreams, the last thing he wanted was to be caught in a hangover from drinking the night before. He lay miserably in bed until he was re-awoken. Three times, guards came to retrieve him for a large amount of duties he had forgotten about. It took quite a while before he managed to pull himself together into a somewhat acceptable state. He threw himself into a baggy, white button-up shirt and a pair of ordinary brown pants.

Stumbling out of his room, hand on his sword as he walked, he made his way to the throne room. He casually ignored the way his soldiers awkwardly attempted to avoid his gaze. He was used to it by now, as most people felt uncomfortable when around him. He had a certain way of unnerving people, which could have been the fact he was cold and unsocial, or that people were attempting to kill him every other day.

He would have liked to tell them they didn't need worry about their lives, but that would be untrue. People had died trying to protect him- which had left him emotionally terrified when it first happened, but now he didn't have the time nor energy to mourn them. In fact, right as he sat down, he was rushed by guards, advisers, and any other random Joe that needed him to sign something. Half the time, he didn't even read the papers he stamped his seal on, especially on days like this when he really couldn't care less.

The only eventful thing up until lunch was when he witnessed guards tackle a citizen who had somehow wandered into the castle, as security was tight and the people were supposed to stay outside due to the reoccurring attacks. When lunch did arrive, Abbas refused it, just as he had skipped out on breakfast. No one even bothered to persist about his health anymore, as they knew it was impossible to persuade their King.

It was about at that time that the deep mahogany doors were thrown open, and two soldiers, one a Captain, marched in. The Captain first bowed. "My Lord, I've brought your appointed body guard. Starting from now on, he will be by your side at all times. He will protect you with his life and serve you well. He is called Tyrothane, my Lord.” Abbas sighed, as the thought of having yet another person with their life submitted to protect him was growing tiring.

"Right, good job, er-" Abbas started. He shrugged the thought of remembering the Captain's name away. "Yes, anyway. I hope this one is good. The thing about body guards is that they die much to easily." The Captain seemed to grow pale at this, as it might have been just a horrible joke, but no smile came to the King's solemn face to prove so.

Tired of conversation, Abbas stood himself up from his throne, and headed toward the door. "Well, it was nice chatting, but I have- you know- duties to attend." With that, the King made an attempt to excuse himself from his new guard.

(OOC: Sorry it's short! I'll try to make it longer as I go.)

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"Right, good job, er-" there was a pause as the King's shoulders shrugged slightly. Tyrothane lifted an eyebrow as he watched the man, "Yes, anyway. I hope this one is good. The thing about body guards is that they die much to easily."

"Yo-Your Majesty..." the Captain stuttered as King Abbas had spoken in such terms. Tyrothane stiffened next to him, his gaze dropping to the floor. So even the King had lost hope in any body guard meant to protect him. Was it really such a difficult job? Were the men appointed to him before Tyrothane all that weak? He didn't really know, but the cold tone set off the young knight as he watched his King stand and drop down the three steps that led up to the dais and pass them completely.

"Well, it was nice chatting, but I have- you know- duties to attend."

Turning on his heel, Tyrothane watched with wide eyes as the man brushed past both the Captain and himself. Next to him the hulky man gave a sigh as the double doors opened for the King. Looking up, the young knight arched an eyebrow again in confusion as to what exactly had just happened.

"You better hurry up and go after him, or he'll surely leave you behind and find trouble easily. I told you this was going to be difficult. Do you believe me now?"

Tyrothane's shocked look quickly fell to his usual stony features as he straightened himself and gave a short bow to the Captain, "I will not fail, and I will not allow myself to be killed so easily as he thinks."

"Such a strong statement. I hope you can keep to it," the Captain said as he crossed his arms while Tyrothane turned and quickly went after his King.

The young knight soon caught up to the man and fell into step right next to him. Tyrothane rested his hand on his sword as they walked down the hall. If the King was unsettled by his presence, he didn't let it bother him. He was there to protect the man, nothing more and nothing less. Even so, at the back of his mind, the youth was trying to figure out why the King was so seemingly uncaring about his situation. The more he thought about it, the more questions came to mind. However, he didn't ask them, knowing full well that it wasn't his place and the most he was sure to get was to be told to mind his own business.

Still, the one part that did bother him was the fact that the King seemed to think that he would die rather easily. Was his Lord expecting it? Did he wish it, even? He swallowed the thought, a bitter taste in his mouth. Surely the King would not wish for another's death, especially if that person were trying to protect him. With a deep frown, he glanced over to the taller man. Finally, with a soft sigh, he closed his eyes briefly as he spoke.

"Sire, I assure you, I will not be so easily killed as you say. I will fulfill this task given to me and prove to you my capability," he proclaimed as they strode down the hall. Briefly, Tyrothane wondered where it was the King was intent on going.

((OOC: No worries, it was just fine :) ))

King Abbas had almost escaped around a corner when he heard his guard's footsteps echoing closely behind him. He cursed under his breath, as freedom had been only a few sharp turns away. Abbas had to credit him though, as this boy was quite fast- which was something he noted in his mind for later reference. As the soldier's strides became in sync with his own, the King slowed his pace as if to see how well the soldier followed. An awkward silence followed as the two walked, the King heading to nowhere in particular. He uneasily looked over to see the guard's hand resting on the hilt of his sword, in case he needed to pull it out. What made the King feel worrisome was that he was now alone with this practical stranger- it would be the perfect time for this soldier, Tyrothane, to strike against him. With all the attacks, the King could never be sure if anyone was out to kill him or not, and if this young man fought him in that moment, in his hangover, Abbas knew he would lose that battle. Abbas slowly let his hand inconspicuously slide nearer to his sword, but before it could reach it, the boy spoke.

"Sire, I assure you, I will not be so easily killed as you say. I will fulfill this task given to me and prove to you my capability," said Tyrothane, and the King turned his head to look at the boy. His words in the throne room really had unnerved him, hadn't they? Abbas tried to smile reassuringly, but his upper lip just flickered before falling back into place.

"I would hope you'd attempt to think with that mindset- negative people are always such a bore," he droned, turning down the hallway toward the winery where he suspected a bit of alcohol might do him good. The walk wasn't to long, but with a soldier following Abbas with every step, he felt as if it was eternity before he reached the wooden door. He pushed it open, as being the King, knocking was almost unnecessary. He grabbed a goblet off of a nearby table before finding an appropriate wine barrel. After filling his cup with the maroon drink, he headed back out into the hallway, leaving so fast that Tyrothane couldn't have even gotten his own glass if he wanted. He strode down the hall and raised his goblet to drink, but with one sniff of the pungent odor coming from his wine, he dumped it into a nearby plant. The plant almost immediately began to welt, and with that, Abbas sat his goblet down beside it.

"Poisioned," he said nonchalantly, as he dealt with this sort of thing often. "Can't even get a good drink in these times without having to worry if you'll kick the bucket because of it," he said, crossing his arms in annoyance. He turned to the young soldier beside him. "Someone should really be told that the wine barrels are poisoned- would you do that for me? I really do have some things I need to get to, and I'm beyond my normal lateness. I wouldn't want people thinking I've been hurt or anything, would I?"

Without waiting for Tyrothane's response, Abbas took off down the hall, evading the normal passageways. He hadn't even had a guard for twenty minutes and he already felt as if he was on a leash- a short one at that. His court didn't seem to realize that he was able to take care of himself. And, although he didn't wish to give his poor body-guard a horrible time, he didn't really enjoy spending time with others. It was here, pretending to be doing his made up duties, that he felt best.

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"I would hope you'd attempt to think with that mindset- negative people are always such a bore," King Abbas said, his tone dull and seemingly uninterested in Tyrothane's presence. The young knight didn't say a word in return, only followed after Abbas. His thoughts did come to the conclusion that perhaps his Captain had been correct in the fact that this man was going to push Tyrothane to his absolute limits. The youth wondered briefly if he was going to get through to the man, or break before ever making any progress.

Tyrothane followed after his King as they made their way into the winery. Barrels upon barrels lined the walls and several isles full of shelving with the brown cases as well. He watched with a slight frown on his lips as his majesty took a goblet and filled it with a dark red wine. The young knight followed after King Abbas without a word about the drink. Tyrothane wasn't one for alcohol to begin with so he usually stayed away from it. They were off again, down the hall but not long after leaving the winery did the King tip the goblet into a flower pot. Startled, Ty watched with a bit of shock as the plant began to wilt almost immediately.

"Poisoned. Can't even get a good drink in these times without having to worry if you'll kick the bucket because of it. Someone should really be told that the wine barrels are poisoned- would you do that for me? I really do have some things I need to get to, and I'm beyond my normal lateness. I wouldn't want people thinking I've been hurt or anything, would I?"

Lifting an eyebrow, Tyrothane listened to his King's request. However it didn't feel right to be leaving the man so early, especially after having a poisoned drink and the young knight not even knowing it. He mentally kicked himself. He was going to have to pay closer attention if he wanted to do any good for this man, not that it seemed Abbas wanted it. As the taller man turned away from him, Tyrothane took several steps forward, trying to get his attention again, "Sire! Where will you be..." the end of the sentence faded away as he realized that the King wasn't paying any more attention to him. Even if he was, Tyrothane was sure Abbas wasn't going to answer him.

With a frown he watched the man stride down the hall rather quickly before disappearing. He memorized the way that his King had gone and turned back to go to the winery. Staring down at the floor, a frown plastered on his lips he wondered how he was going to do this job. Already within the span of only a few minutes he was starting to see that things were going to be especially difficult. He sighed as he opened the door to the winery a second time. Looking up into the room full of barrels he made his way slowly through the winery, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor.

"Excuse me, sir. Do you maintain the wine here?" he asked as he came into sight of a stout man standing behind a small desk. The man's back was to Tyrothane. Shifting his weight, the young knight, rested his body on one leg, his hand resting over the pommel of his sword lightly.

"Yes, what do you need?"

"The barrels of wine are poisoned, I need you to remove them. All of them."

"Poisoned, you say? Who are you?"

Tyrothane frowned, his hand shifting as he started to feel a bit of unease with the wine keepers back to him, "I'm the King's body guard and he was here just a moment ago. The wine he'd taken was poisoned."

"How... unfortunate," the man said slowly before whirling on Tyrothane. The stout man threw something at the knight who raised his hand to block it. His clothes sizzled as the liquid splashed all over his arm and side. Thankfully the concoction only burned the surface of his skin slightly, but his clothes were ruined then, tattered holes where the acid had hit him. Grinding his teeth, Ty reached down and drew his sword quickly, recovering from the previous attack. The wine keeper had come across the desk, wielding a small knife in the hopes of taking Tyrothane by surprise.

The knights features calmed into a cold and collected stony feature. Reaching out with his hand covered in the large gauntlet, he gripped the man's wrist that held the knife. Turning on his heel, he threw the man into the shelving where the barrels of wine where precariously perched. The entire structure shifted when the wine keeper hit it. Like dominoes the shelving all collapses, the wine barrels breaking open to splash the contents all over the winery. Getting his footing again, the wine keeper turned to face Tyrothane who had his sword leveled at the man's throat.

"You've very few choices, keeper. Shall I end it here, or do you wish to live?"

The man scoffed, "Live? The cells would be minimal punishment, but my crime is far worse than just pick pocketing. You and I both know that bloody heretic of a King will have me hanged for trying to get rid of him."

"For good reason," Tyrothane answered. The wine keeper ground his teeth at the youth. The man moved, grabbing something from inside his robes. Ty shifted, his blade cutting downwards to intercept the item being thrown at him a second time. The clay broke upon impact with the sword, spraying more liquid, this time down the length of his sword. The blade steamed as the acidic solution began to corrode the weapon. Ignoring that for the moment, he brought the blade back around and shoved the weapon through the wine keepers chest.

Removing his weapon he watched the man drop to the floor, his blood mixing in with the dark crimson of the wine that had spilt. Without sheathing his sword, he left the room, shoving the door opened and walking into his Captain. The man stumbled backwards, startled by Tyrothane's sudden appearance.

"Hey... what the hell? You're bleeding, are you alright?" The captain reached out and lifted Tyrothane's face, peering at his cheek. The young knight hadn't noticed the injury. It probably happened when he'd cut into the clay jar a second time, splattering the liquid all over.

"Fine. The wine keeper had poisoned all of the wine. I've taken care of it."

"Where is his Highness?"

"He said he had some duties to tend to before ordering me to take care of this," Tyrothane answered as he reached up to see how bad the wound was on his face. There wasn't much blood, so the wound was probably very small. He'd probably only been hit with a small drop of it when it splashed.

"We'll take care of this, you go get yourself cleaned up and find him."

"I'm fine. I'll find him right now," Ty answered and left the Captain in the hall, "Destroy all of the wine, shouldn't take any chances with any of it," he called back as he went after his king, following after the route the man had taken before Tyrothane had fought with the wine keeper.

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King Abbas Coren had a knack for getting himself into trouble, and knowing the secret passages of his own castle was just another tool to do so. It hadn't taken him long at all to retrieve his deep blue cloak from his chamber, remove his crown, and escape to the castle's lowest level. After a large amount of sneaking around, he found his destination: a large painting of himself and his parents.

He could have stayed to revel in its beauty, but the painting was actually quite grotesque. The bleak coloring and distorted imagery of his parents was the reason it was shoved in a mostly barren hallway.

Abbas gently unhinged the mural from the wall, revealing a small, black tunnel, so familiar that he didn't need to candlelight to pass through it. This tunnel was one of the many secrets of the castle that Abbas's father once showed him. Abbas and his father had once been very similar, but in the many years before his murder, the former King had grown stern and seemed constantly disappointed with his son. Abbas was used to being a disappointment, but he never really cared to change. After climbing inside the hole, he pulled the painting back in its place, not knowing that he had accidentally placed it crooked.

In what felt like only moments, he was emerging out of the tunnel and into the bright sunlight. He stood in a ditch under a small sewer grate. After clambering out, he saw the familiar landscape of the alleyway he had visited so often. Abbas was in the village that rested just below the castle, only he preferred to stay in the more shady area where the people didn't care about his royalty status and alcohol was good. In fact, his favorite bar was just around the corner from where he stood.

The Duck's Beak was a less than fine establishment, as the stench of unclean, barbaric, drunken men rang fresh in the air. Most visitors were quite strange, if not trying to wage war on other customers, clinging to the shadows and just watching everyone else. By wearing his blue hood over his face, Abbas would blend in almost totally, as there were plenty of other hooded figures that walked into the pub. The servers didn't ask questions as long as you were a paying consumer.

Abbas sat down at a brown wooden table, a lit red candle blazing in front of him. He stared at the fire, so completely lost in thought that he almost didn't notice the slightly pudgy serving woman standing over him.

"Can I get you anythin', Sir? Or Ma'am- I can't really tell with the hood and much stranger things 'ave happened."

"If my limited studies of science haven't failed me, I would have to say that I am male. And, yes, I would just like a glass of water," said Abbas, as the earlier excursion had left him no longer wishing for wine.

"Comin' right up. Sir, I mean," she added with a wink before hurrying of to fulfill her other orders.

The water arrived at his table with no more conversation except a nod of gratitude to the serving woman. He leaned back in his chair, the wooden boards beneath him croaking as he went. He began to take a gulp of water, happily finding it to be cleaner than anything he had drank in weeks, considering half of the food he touched was made specially for his execution.

"Why don't you hurry up with my wine than, woman?"

Midway through drink, Abbas sat his drink back down on the table and turned toward the commotion. A highly intoxicated man was harassing the serving woman who had kindly attempted to converse with Abbas. Angrily, the King stood up and faced the drunken customer. "And why don't you show respect for those serving you and have patience?"

The pub went almost completely silent. The man, short with red hair and a beard that looked as if it hadn't been trimmed in years, stood to face Abbas. They stared at one another for a moment before the redhead swung a punch, which hit Abbas squarely in the eye. He swung once again, but the King moved out of his way, extending his foot and tripping the man who fell into Abbas's table. The man grabbed Abbas's drink and threw it onto his opponent, drenching him.

Abbas pulled his sword out of it's place on his belt and pointed it at the redheads throat. He thought of some choice words he wished to utter, but the screaming bar tender interrupted him. "Get out of my pub! The both of you!"

Catching the thankful eyes of the serving woman before leaving, Abbas swiftly exited the bar in a frustrated rage. In his anger, he almost ran into Tyrothane, who was just approaching him. "Ah, you followed me here," he started, coldly. "Good job, you clever- What happened to you?" He had just noticed the bloody injury on his body-guards face, but his tone showed more curiosity than concern.

(OOC: I assumed Tyrothane would pick up on the crooked picture and you might elaborate on it, so I thought Abbas may run into him, but I don't want to seem like I'm control your character at all, so I'll happily change my ending if you wish. ;D))

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Tyrothane had followed the route that his King had taken down the hallway and the first turn he'd seen the tall man take before they'd parted ways. However, after that was a complete mystery. The young knight moved swiftly through the halls, trying to get a clue as to where his charge had gone. By the time he'd found the crooked picture down an abandoned hallway, it had nearly been an hour since they'd separated. His heart pounded hard in his chest as worry crept through his entire body. Tyrothane had gone through almost every part of the castle before finding the picture and he cursed himself for not finding it sooner.

Checking around the hall to make sure no one had followed after him, he gently pulled aside the large picture. The knight was hardly surprised to find the tunnel behind it. It made sense as to how the King was getting in and out without anyone noticing or even questioning his absence. The palace was so large that it was easy to put it off as just simply 'missing him'.

Tyrothane moved swiftly through the tunnel after replacing the picture properly. His mind was playing terrible tricks on him as he rushed through the rather short tunnel. Thoughts of finding his King dead somewhere, or being attacked by multiple enemies. It was all a possibility, and only because he'd taken his eyes off of him. Not even a day into his job, and he'd almost seen the King poisoned by his own winery, and to top it off had lost him immediately afterwards. Of course it doesn't help when the King doesn't want a body guard in the first place Tyrothane thought to himself with a heavy sigh.

He soon found himself out in a small ditch in what seemed to be a drain of sorts. Looking up, he spotted the grating over head and sheathed his sword -he was going to have to get it repaired when he had the chance-. Reaching up, the young knight pulled himself up and out of the ditch and into an alleyway. Tyrothane took a deep breath and held it as he gauged his next obstacle.

The city.

Slowly his eyes narrowed, his lips pulling into a deep frown as a bit of angry frustration took over his anxiety with the situation. Though it wasn't particularly crowded, there were still enough people to make it difficult for a King to go walking around openly. Thus, Tyrothane figured that Abbas had done something to keep himself from being discovered, a simple cloak most likely. Glancing down at his own attire, he ground his teeth. His long, brilliant white coat was an immediate sign that he was of the royal guard at the palace, especially with the insignia stitched on the shoulder and on the back. Groaning slightly, he quickly pulled it off and tossed it down into the ditch where he'd come from. He would reclaim it later.

The simple black tunic that hugged his form was far less revealing of who he was along with the rest of his black garb. The weapons, however, were completely visible as the coat usually hid them from sight. It'll have to do he thought to himself as he took the first few steps into the street. He could only hope that his overly armed appearance didn't invoke any unwanted attention that may harbor his search for Lord Abbas. It also didn't help that bits of the black cloth were eaten through by the acid that the wine keeper had thrown at him an hour ago, though it wasn't half as bad as the coat.

Ty stood in the street at the mouth of the alleyway for a brief moment looking down one side of the street to see if he could spot anything that would tell him where his King had gone. When he didn't see much, he turned around just as a loud commotion filled the air from the area he'd been looking at. Glancing over his shoulder he felt his heart skip a beat as someone very tall came clambering out of an inn and into the street. He was suspicious, having the dark feeling that it was Abbas who had exited the 'Duck's Beak'.

As luck would have it, the tall man crashed into him without paying any heed to where he was going really. Had Tyrothane not been ready for it, the taller man probably would have knocked the young guard over with the brisk pace he'd been moving at. Looking up under the cowl of the hood he sighed heavily as he recognized the face.

"Ah, you followed me here. Good job, you clever- What happened to you?"

Tyrothane frowned as he watched his King, "I took care of your request Si-" he stopped himself quickly from saying 'sire' as he remembered their location, "Sir," he corrected smoothly wincing inwardly as he hoped that Abbas wouldn't take offence to his downgrading the title of his King. Ty ignored the comment about his appearance entirely though, preferring not to go into detail.

Stumbling from the inn almost immediately after Abbas had left was another man, this one very obviously drunk. Tyrothane moved, not wasting a moment as he felt the overbearing crush of hatred flowing from the drunkard. There had been a fight, obviously. The young knight could tell that Abbas had been a part of it, the shadow of a bruise along his eye was significance enough.

"My L- Return to the alleyway, please," he asked being mindful of his words again and forcing himself out of the habit of calling Abbas 'Lord' or 'sire'. He had positioned himself between the drunkard and his King who was coming after Abbas in a fit of acoholic rage. Tyrothane didn't draw his sword, rather he drew a small knife, easily concealed under the tattered sleeve of his tunic. He kept his gaze steadily on the drunk while taking a step back to try to get Abbas to move as he'd asked.

"It's enough that you're injured already," he commented lightly with a quick glance over his shoulder, a frown on his lips. Why do you insist on not allowing me to do my job? he thought to himself as he turned away to concentrate on the other man.

"If you value your life, you'll leave," Ty warned the man briefly.

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"My L- Return to the alleyway, please."

Abbas who had almost been completely oblivious to his surroundings, was caught by surprise as his guard stepped around him to block him from impending danger. Swiftly turning on his heel, his hand gripped on his own sword, he caught sight of a familiar, seething face.

It was the drunken redhead from the Duck's Beak who, from the looks of it, was not happy that Abbas had gotten him kicked out. But the man didn't have a weapon, and Abbas and Tyrothane both had numerous stored in pockets and belts. How the man was of any danger, Abbas was not sure. He was about to tell his guard to withdraw, but Tyrothane spoke first.

"It's enough that you are injured already," he said, obviously annoyed with his King. Abbas crossed his arms, saving his argument, and smugly grinned. If it was his guards wish, he would let him preform his duties, although the King saw no possible threat from the drunkard who had only gotten lucky with an earlier swing. So, he allowed his guard to threaten the troublemaker.

The drunkard began shouting incoherent threats at Abbas, causing many passing townsfolk to stop and stare. Abbas was beginning to feel uncomfortable- he came here to be left alone and yet he was now the subject of ridicule by an inebriated citizen. This citizen was actually one of his subjects, yet just because he wasn't wearing a crown with the visible power to execute anyone whom he pleased, he wasn't being respected. His earlier frustrations burned into fury.

He would have almost been okay with seeing Tyrothane put this man in his place, but, against many of his usual habits, he decided to reveal that he actually had a merciful soul somewhere inside himself. "Leave him, Tyrothane," he said, completely ignorant to how many people were actually listening to their conversation. "The drunkard isn't worth your blade or time."

Turning, completely okay with leaving his body-guard, he began to walk back down the street, pushing past those in his way. He wasn't sure if his body-guard was keeping up, so he controlled his temper. He wasn't quite sure where it had come from, exactly, although he knew a small portion of his anger was because of his throbbing eye. He also presumed that realization what little control he really had on his people had put him in a mood.

He just kept walking to the front castle doors, where he pulled of his hood and entered to the astonishment of the guards, who looked at one another inquisitively as to how the King had gotten out on their watch. He felt as he had given his poor guard enough grief, so he stood so young Tyrothane could get a good lock on his position.

((I apologize for it's short and sloppiness! I've had to rush a little bit on this post.))

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The drunkard advanced on them, his voice drawling as he slurred out a string of threats and curses. He was loud, and causing a scene, something that Tyrothane wanted to put an end to rather quickly. His eyes narrowed as he watched the man get ever closer. He shifted his body slightly, the movement probably hardly noticeable to his King, and even more so to the drunk. His body moved rather quickly, lunging forward and letting the blade flip down in his hand.

Ty had absolute control over his body, so much so that when his King ordered him to stop, he halted immediately with the knife right beneath the man's throat, the cold steel just barely pressing against flesh.

"Leave him, Tyrothane. The drunkard isn't worth your blade or time."

He heard Abbas turn on his heel and start down the street. Lowering his arm, Tyrothane followed after the man who had outdistanced him rather quickly. The young knight worked his way through the crowd that continually kept him from catching up to the tall man. Even so, he wasn't too far behind. What surprised him was that Lord Abbas walked straight through the gates of the palace, drawing back his hood as he went. Ty frowned slightly, discarded my coat for nothing. He would go back and retrieve it later, not that it really mattered the material had been ruined from the fight earlier.

Catching up to his King, he slowed his pace and stopped next to the taller man with a brief glance up into Abbas' gaze, "My Lord," he said simply, his tone flat and somewhat distant.

"Tyrothane," the voice came from the Captain who was making his way towards them from the palace entrance rather quickly. The young knight looked up to his name. He sighed heavily, sure that he was going to be scolded for letting their King wander on his own into the city and for coming back with an injury.

Beside the Captain was another young knight whom Ty knew as Fyi, "My Lord," the Captain said with a slight bow as he reached them. Fyi followed suit as well, but didn't say anything.

"Captain, what is it?" Tyrothane asked.

"The winery's been dealt with. More importantly I'm glad you both returned safely, when we couldn't find either of you we had thought something had happened."

Tyrothane sighed heavily, "We're fine. Just dealing with some drunkard is all."

The captain lifted an eyebrow as he turned slightly to allow them to pass and head to the palace. When they reached the large eloquent building, the burly man gave a short bow and excused himself to resume the rest of his duties. Behind him, Tyrothane felt a hand on his shoulder and he stiffened slightly, eyes narrowing as he immediately went from relaxed to tensed. Fyi leaned forward, his head coming up to Tyrothane's shoulder and his lips whispering into his ear.

"Hope you can do better than that, Ty. You're doing a mighty fine job at letting our King be on his own. And only in the first few hours of being appointed his guard. I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

Tyrothane growled slightly, pulling away sharply from Fyi's touch. Normally he would not have gotten angry, but the use of the pet name 'Ty' and plucking the strings of his irritation to top it off, he couldn't help it. With a cold glare over his shoulder briefly he turned away and continued after his King.

---

---

It wasn't with much surprise that Abbas that he found his young guard had kept close to him. Just as he stepped into his palace, the soldier seemed to melt into his place at the King's hip. The guard seemed quite dedicated to his duty, as the King's attempts to shake him had all failed. Abbas looked at him through the corner of his eye, unintentionally meeting Tyrothane's gaze.

"My Lord," said the young man, his words sounding quite far off. Abbas wasn't sure if his body-guard was expecting orders or something of the sort, but he needn't come up with an errand for Tyrothane to attend to, as the Captain arrived just at the right time to intervene. The Captain wasn't alone at all, actually, as he had a knight at his side. Abbas had forgotten the knights name- Fiji or something of the sort?

"The winery's been dealt with. More importantly I'm glad you both returned safely, when we couldn't find either of you we had thought something had happened," said the Captain, looking nervously between Abbas and Tyrothane. Abbas allowed his guard to expand on the drunkard, as he didn't feel like wasting his energy. To his surprise, Tyrothane didn't tattle on the King's secret passage or his bar fight. To relieve him more, no one bothered asking about his blackened eye.

The Captain quickly excused himself to other duties, exiting the conversation, although his knight seemed to hang back. The King slipped ahead and Tyrothane eventually caught up with him, an annoyed grimace adorning his face. Abbas, curious, peered over his shoulder to find Fiji looking quite smug.

"Have you no duties to attend to, soldier?" asked the tall man, causing the knight to look quite panicked. The soldier nodded vigorously and stumbled away to preform his required acts. Abbas contained his smirk, as he found his joy in the man's embarrassment a bit inappropriate. In fact, his cruelty was a bad habit entirely.

An awkward silence arose as he and Tyrothane walked down the hall. Abbas meant to keep going without speaking at all, but silence interrupted by the squeak of freshly polished boots from down the hall. Abbas thought nothing of it, until he remembered this was the direction of the hallway in which the passage to the outside resided.

The King peered over at his body-guard, inquisitively. "Tyrothane," he asked, "if I correctly assume that you followed me through my father's old passage, then may I also assume you tightly closed the grating?" Not patient enough to wait for an answer, he swiftly turned on his heel and rushed down the hall to find the painting lying on the ground, the tunnel completely exposed for all eyes to see. Abbas's stomach lurched, but he stayed relatively calm compared to someone else in an identical situation. If someone was residing in the castle, he assumed his guards would find them before any harm could come to him.

Gently placing the distorted image of his family back onto the wall, he turned back to face his guard. "We may have a possible problem," said the King, slightly smiling.

King Abbas had turned to watch as Tyrothane made his way back over to him. Obviously the look on the youths face had dictated the questioning that Abbas engaged in with Fyi.

"Have you no duties to attend to, soldier?"

Ty didn't turn around to see what the effect was. Not that he cared much for the outcome really, so long as the other knight let him be. He didn't like the feeling that exuded from the other youth. The young knight wasn't quite sure what it was that set him off entirely, but all he knew was that he didn't like Fyi... at all.

A sharp sound filled the hallway as he followed after his King, silently keeping his place at the man's right side. He had his senses stretched out all around him, keeping a watchful look too as they passed by other rooms and halls. The sharp sound caught his attention and he glanced over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, his hand slowly creeping down to his sword at his side.

"Tyrothane, if I correctly assume that you followed me through my father's old passage, then may I also assume you tightly closed the grating?"

"Sire..." he answered back, turning on his heel to quickly follow after his King. He was starting to get used to the fact that Lord Abbas didn't wait for answers and acted rather quickly before anyone else. Though it kept Tyrothane on his toes, he had figured that Abbas was going to streak down the hall without waiting for him. For a mere moment, the young knight cursed his height. His legs weren't quite as long as Abbas' and thus his King kept the lead rather easily.

They both turned into the hallway where the secret passageway was and Tyrothane's chest clenched tightly. His eyes fell on the exposed tunnel and the painting that had been carelessly tossed aside. He ground his teeth, fingers curling around the hilt of his weapon tightly. Turning around he searched the empty hall in the hopes of finding whomever it was that had used the tunnel. Tyrothane's mind was buzzing with possibilities... how would someone have known to go down the grate anyway?

A sharp intake of breath filled his lungs as he realized his mistake. Cursing himself for his own stupidity the gauntlet on his hand curled into a fist, the metal grinding together.

"We may have a possible problem,"

Turning he faced his King who had a small smile on his lips. It was kind of unnerving to see such an expression and Tyrothane swallowed dryly his lips pulling into a deep frown. He watched his King from the corner of his eye as he took a breath to explain his thoughts.

"Sire... I believe this was my fault. I left my coat in the ditch because I did not wish to attract attention when I went to get you. It seems someone may have found it and thus found the entrance into the castle," turning on his heel rather sharply he faced his King and pressed his hand against his chest as he bowed forward, a sick feeling at the back of his throat, "Please allow me to fix this. I will find who has intruded and present them to you. I'll take whatever punishment you deem fitting afterwards."

The King listened as his guard presented the information he had, that the entire issue was his own fault, with a slightly impatient impulse surging through his veins. Although he did take heed to what his guard was saying, he was feeling quite irritable. He disliked the nobility knights were forced to wear, which was evident in Tyrothane's remorseful explanation. It was much simpler to be a coward, which was the exact reputation he had earned from his behavior to his people.

"Please allow me to fix this. I will find who has intruded and present them to you. I'll take whatever punishment you deem fitting afterwards." At this, Abbas just laughed, most likely to the discomfort to the young knight before him.

Once he contained himself, he spoke. "I will allow you to try and fix this issue before it becomes a threatening problem, but there is no need for punishment. It's like you wish for me to behead you. I assume that alerting the Captain of an intruder would be a wise choice for our next step."

Taking one last glance at the horrible artwork, Abbas headed down the hall, slowly enough that his seemingly distressed guard could keep up with him. The whole castle seemed silent except for the sound of Abbas and Tyrothane's boots clicking against the floor. It seemed like just when there was an issue, no one could be found.

Despite putting on a seemingly careless face, the King was beginning to grow slightly paranoid at the thought of someone being in his castle, knowing his own hidden passages. And pretending to be apathetic didn't stop the fact that he kept nervously glancing to his side. He felt as if he couldn't trust anything, as if he might look over to find his own shadow, knife in hand, ready to attack.

When someone else's shadow flickered across the hallway, Abbas nearly crashed into Tyrothane, yet somehow managed to maintain his ground. He silently inhaled and allowed his hand to casually slide to his sword hilt. Around the corner came a burly, short figure, who innocently tossed his hands up.

"'Aye, sorry fellas! Didn't mean no harm! Jus' deliverin' some food to some a'the people around the castle," said the quite awkward man, nodding to the hand-twined baskets filled with bread, grapes, and a large assortment of herbs that were all hanging from his arms. It was the castle cook, a man who probably couldn't muster up the cruelty to harm an insect let alone attack the King and his guard.

Abbas cleared his throat and removed his hand from his sword hilt. "Would you happen to know which way the Captain went?" he asked, the cook just shaking his head with what little neck had had.

"I'm not sure, Sir, but I think 'e may'a went toward your throne room." Abbas nodded, only for a moment wondering what the Captain was doing spending time in the throne room before hurrying past the clumsy kitchen dweller toward safety.

---

Tyrothane stiffened as he heard his Lords' laughter. His dark gaze was wide as he stared at the floor, his breath hardly going into his lungs as he stood there, frozen in the bow that he'd been giving Abbas. Was... was the man making fun of him? His heart skipped a beat, a painful twinge passing through his chest at the thought. The young knight straightened his body, his face solemn once again. The usual slight frown on his lips, the stony gaze of his eyes as he shifted to look to his King as the man spoke.

"I will allow you to try and fix this issue before it becomes a threatening problem, but there is no need for punishment. It's like you wish for me to behead you. I assume that alerting the Captain of an intruder would be a wise choice for our next step."

Without a word, he nodded his head slightly and fell into step next to the taller man. Silence preceded them as they moved steadily down the hall. Tyrothane kept his discomfort well hidden, at the back of his mind. Certainly, this man was insufferable. It was clear Abbas disliked the young guard, and probably the entire knighthood itself as well. Even so, Tyrothane was determined to prove himself, no matter what it took.

As they walked, the youth kept his guard up, fingers slightly twitching at every little thing as they went down the hall. With the thought of someone who was not supposed to be inside the castle running around rampant, he felt everything was an enemy. So much so that when Abbas started and nearly crashed into him as they rounded a corner and shadows picked up across the wall, Tyrothane nearly took out the poor cook who had been the cause of the upstart.

"'Aye, sorry fellas! Didn't mean no harm! Jus' deliverin' some food to some a'the people around the castle," the cook said, throwing his hands up as Tyrothane drew his knife, putting himself in front of his King nearly instantaneously. His dark look was probably what caused the poor man to stutter as he had as well as the display of his hands up in the air.

Taking a breath, the young knight withdrew, sheathing his weapon and melding to Abbas' right side yet again. He listened to the exchange as Abbas asked where the Captain of the guard had gone. With the answer leading them to the throne room, Tyrothane was sure he wasn't the only one who wondered what the Captain was doing in the throne room when the King was certainly not there.

When they made it to the throne room, Tyrothane pushed open the doors to find the tall hulky man rummaging through some papers on a desk off to the right. Lifting an eyebrow briefly, Ty wondered what it was that the balding man was looking for, but dismissed it as there were more pressing matters to attend to.

"Captain," Tyrothane's voice carried through the empty room, echoing as if they were in a cavern of a sort.

The man turned to his name, glancing over his shoulder to see who had called him. His calm nature as if he were supposed to be there settled the young guards nerves a bit, "Tyrothane, what's wrong?"

"An intruder. There is an intruder in the castle," he said shortly, picking his words yet again, very carefully.

"Intruder?! How in the...?"

Ty shook his head slightly, his lips pulled into a frown as he watched his Captain warily, "At this point it doesn't really matter how they got in. What matters is how quickly we find them and get rid of them. I'm almost certain they are after Lord Abbas."

"The norm, really," the Captain sighed softly, then straightened as he realized he was in the company of the King right then, "I-in any case, I will have the guards sweep the entire place. Top to bottom. You stay with his Highness. It would be a really terrible idea to leave his side right now. Try not to let him out of your sight, Tyrothane," the Captain said with a sharp pat on his shoulder that shook Ty all through his smaller frame.

"Yes," he answered in reply as the Captain turned on his heel and headed for the double doors of the throne room. Looking over to his King, he waited a moment before speaking.

"Sire, perhaps your room would be a better place to be at right now?" he said making the suggestion a question for formality only. The last thing he wanted was to order his own King around. That would surely get his head on the block...

---

---

As Tyrothane and Abbas stepped through the towering wooden doors of the throne room, Abbas wasn't exactly sure of what emotions he was supposed to feel. At seeing the Captain rummaging through documents that the King himself hadn't been presented unnerved and aggravated him, yet he kept the sort of calm rage that was much scarier than any sort of outwardly anger.

But as soon as the Captain realized the King was near him, his act seemed to improve greatly. After assuring Abbas and his guard that he would find this intruder, he quickly excused him, only catching cold eye contact from his Majesty. Although Abbas wished he could hate the Captain, he was flooded with reassurance that the Captain was a good man. The former King had entrusted him with his job, so what right did Abbas have to criticize his authority and loyalty?

Lost in thought, Abbas almost mist the fact that Tyrothane was speaking to him. "Sire, perhaps your room would be a better place to be at right now?" said the young knight. Abbas did not enjoy the thought of spending the rest of his evening cooped up in his dreary chamber, yet he had to admit that staying out of the way of those who may wish to have his head an intelligent idea.

"Yes, of course," the dark haired King said, heading out the door in a slow pace so Tyrothane could easily keep up with him. Causing the knight grief was how they had all gotten trapped in this situation, so he decided to consider rational thinking.

It took Abbas hardly any time at all to find his chamber- he seemed to glide through the castle like a ghost. The path was so familiar to him that he didn't even have to think about directions, as long as he didn't lose the young knight following him. His room wasn't too far away, although it took him a moment to get the rusty door unstuck.

Abbas immediately stepped into the chamber, not even thinking to let his guest go in first. Taking off his deep blue cloak, the taller man just tossed it into the floor with most of his belongings. In fact, he assumed Tyrothane had to be unimpressed with his housekeeping- most of his dirty clothes were sprawled out on the floor and his bed was unmade, covers upturned. Arrows were sticking out out of the wall, due to the fact he was often bored and skilled with a bow. Broken wine glasses and beer mugs were thrown across his room, the hazard of stepping on shattered glass practically unavoidable.

"Home sweet home," Abbas said stonily, sitting himself down on the windowsill. He plucked an arrow from out of the wall and poked it's head with his finger, cursing his stupidity as it began to softly drip blood. He wiped the dripping red liquid on his pants in a nonchalant manner.

The King wasn't exactly positive to do with his company, as any other time he would have eagerly taken a nap. So, antisocially, he allowed his mind to wander to the intruder, and how persistent his attackers were. The worst thing about his predicament was that he couldn't argue with them- he wasn't suitable for the role of King, yet the title came to him and he had no say in the matter. Sure, he was unkind and, only a few years ago, had been a pompous prat, but the attempts on his life were becoming tedious.

---

It wasn't long before King Abbas strode into his room, pushing the door opened as soon as it relinquished itself to him. Tyrothane followed right behind him, though he stopped right in the doorway. He was shocked at the state of the room, though his King didn't seem to pay it any heed. In fact Abbas even added to the mess by throwing down his heavy cloak. It was almost impulse to retrieve the dark blue cloak and place it somewhere, however the young guard stopped himself. He hovered in the doorway taking in the state of the room with a stony expression.

"Home sweet home," Abbas mused, catching Ty's attention. He turned his gaze over to the man briefly. Noting the King's pricked finger he resisted the urge to sigh. If it wasn't the actual intruder he had to worry about killing his King, he would worry about the man hurting himself instead.

Turning to face the hall, he reached forward to grab the handle of the door pausing to speak to the King before closing it, "Sire, I'll be right here outside the door should you need me," he started to close the door before pausing part way through. He knew something was bothering the man, but what could he possibly say that wouldn't be brushed off? He didn't even really know the man all that well. He glanced up to the King for a moment before closing the door all the way.

Tyrothane sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. I'm pretty sure that no matter what I say to him, he wouldn't take it seriously anyway, the young knight thought to himself.

~~~

It was well into the midnight hours, the torches lining the hall had been lit by Tyrothane and a few other knights who were doing their rounds. The young guard was leaning up against the wall right next to the door frame, one foot against the wall with both arms crossed over his chest. His head was bowed forward, eyes closed making seem that he was asleep. For one to think that he was sleeping, however, would be a grave mistake. In all actuality, he was very much awake with his senses to their highest as he stood there.

Nothing out of the norm had happened for the entire night. He'd heard faint sounds from the room as his King moved about, but aside from that, there was nothing else. Ty had hoped that the knights had found the intruder and were perhaps keeping them under guard in the dungeons until the morning. Partway through his thought process, he felt a dangerous aura stirring at the end of the hall. His eyes opened, head lifting up to see what it was that had gotten his attention. The fires at the end of the hall slowly began to extinguish themselves, working their way up towards him.

Tyrothane stood still, not moving as he narrowed his gaze. His sight adjusted rather quickly with the help of the moon filtering in through the windows lining the right side of the hall. Once he found who the culprit was to the ominous feeling he was getting, he moved. Ty put himself right in front of the doorway, standing firmly as he reached down and drew his sword. The figure at the end of the hall started their advance. As they walked, they lifted their hand, flicking it back and forth as if conducting music that must have been in their own head.

The glass of each window suddenly exploded as the figure walked past. The thousand pieces of shrapnel shattered into the hallway, exploding inwards. The sounds echoed throughout the large corridor. The young knight tensed, lifting his blade just slightly as he turned his body sideways to face them. As they got closer, he could tell from the figure that it was a woman. Her gait was slow and purposeful as she continued towards him, head down.

Three windows down from him, she stopped and lifted her face to look up at him. A wild grin pulled her lips back as she stared into his gaze with her black eyes. Ty's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword as he regarded her. This woman had magic, something he wasn't accustomed to fighting against. Already he was trying to figure out a way of dealing with her quickly should it come down to a fight.

"You'll come no further, woman lest you test my blade," he warned.

She laughed.

Her voice was rich, loud and confident as she regarded him. When her laughter faded, she took another step forward, "Lets test your blade then."

His eyes narrowed, teeth grinding together in frustration. He really hadn't wanted to engage the magic user, but there was no choice. There hadn't been a choice from the beginning. She lifted her hands quickly as he lunged for her. He swiped his blade at her, feeling the steel hit something, but not flesh. He dared not move to far from the door and attempted to push her backwards. When that failed, he backed away.

She didn't falter though and pressed forth. Her magic shot at him, exploding from her body in a powerful rush of hot air. The broken glass behind her flew down the corridor and the bit that was in front of her assaulted Tyrothane's frame, ripping through his dark clothes and lodging deep into his skin. His entire body hit the door of his King's room, giving a resounding thud. The air was driven from his lungs, a deep cough exploding from his throat to help compensate for the loss. Ty groaned as he felt the pressure of her magic holding him in place.

He couldn't move to get his blade up to defend against her and struggling only caused a slight burning to pulse through his body from the multiple injuries and glass embedded in him. The woman strode up to him, coming just a few inches away from him. She grinned as she reached her arms around him, her fingers searching from another of his weapons.

"Did you think a mere human guard would keep us from the King?"

"Us...?" Tyrothane ground. He felt his heart skip a beat, chest clenching tightly at the implications she'd just given him. There were more of them. Where though, he didn't know. There was only one way into the King's chambers as far as Tyrothane was concerned. Even so, he couldn't help but feel insecure about the situation. She drew back, his knives in her hands, the steel ringing from their sheathes as she pulled them out. She eyed each weapon carefully.

"Such beautiful workmanship. Soon to be covered in yours and the King's blood. Don't you think that's even more beautiful?" She asked condescendingly. Ty didn't answer her, only glowered at her. He was waiting for her to release her hold on the magic, which he was sure she would do at the last second before plunging his own weapons at him. He would only be able to deflect one, if he got lucky. Then he kill her in the same instant by simply lifting his sword and allowing her to run herself through on the weapon. He calmed himself, waiting for her to charge him. He didn't have to wait long either.

She lunged forward, both weapons aimed for his unprotected chest.

---

---

Abbas was falling. How long he had been falling he didn't know, but he could feel himself slipping further and further into the darkness surrounding him. With every inch he traveled his chest tightened, making breathing near impossible. Anticipating the impact was terrifying, as heights already bothered His Majesty, but it was more than just a simple fear that was rising inside of him. The feeling of zooming through nothingness to impending doom was indescribable.

BAM!

With a soft crunch, the King hit his cold, dirty floor. He quickly became aware that, much like his dream, everything was quite dark. He could see the outline of his own body, tangled in sheets like a mummified body. He saw the silhouette of cluttered objects scattered across the floor, but he was unable to tell what they were. Somewhere among them was his sword, which he had stupidly removed for comfort while sleeping after Tyrothane had left.

But, with a confused realization, Abbas figured it wasn't his accidental tumble that had made the loud noise. In fact, it had come from the now quite dark outside. He found it a bit strange that all the light that once shone brightly through cracks in the wooden door had vanished. He now wondered what exactly his guard was up to. Unraveling himself from his blankets, the tall man strode to the door, pulling it open.

"What on earth is going on out-" he started, but was plowed into by Tyrothane, who had obviously been up against the door. As the two fell, all sorts of weapons soared over their heads. Abbas wasn't exactly sure what was going on until he saw her. Illuminated by the moon stood a beautiful woman, the likes of which he had never seen before. Enchanted by her beauty, he almost missed her next words.

"Ah, the ruler of our lands himself. What an honor," she said, a devious smile sliding across her face, "that I get to kill you myself." Abbas slid back, searching in the dark for wherever he had put his weapon. The woman glided past Tyrothane, who had obviously been dealing with her long enough to have sustained a few injuries, toward the dark haired man.

The woman was too fast for him, but it seemed just in time that Abbas's hand came to rest on a smoothly carved wooden crescent. Grabbing his bow, and the arrow he had only just a few short hours ago pricked himself with, he aimed it at the attacker and let it fly. He assumed it would find it's mark in her forehead, but instead of piercing her, it stopped in mid-air right in front of her head. Panicked, the King dove between her legs, sliding on the residue of broken wine glasses, and squarely hit his head against the door frame. Abbas suspected that the mark it left would go nicely with his blackened eye. But, he didn't even have the chance to be dizzy, as the witch retaliated with speed.

Not sure of where his guard had gone, Abbas rolled out of the way and into the hall, where he leapt to his feet, armed with nothing but his own tenacity. His eyes not quite adjusted to the dark, everything was blurred in Abbas's sight. But, there was no doubt that his hearing was still keen when he heard them approaching from down the hall.

Eerily, the sound of song came from down the hall. There were more of her kind and they were approaching quickly. "T-Tyrothane?" Ab stammered, attempting to alert his guard. Then he let out a cry, as loud as he could, in hopes that he could somehow alert the other guards on a rotation around the halls. At his scream, the singing stopped, a horrid silence filling the hall.

He also noticed at this time that the witch had not attacked him. In fact, he wasn't exactly sure where she had gone. Nervously, he backed up against the wall, putting his hand against the stone to steady himself and blinking as if to clear his sight. "Tyrothane?" Abbas whispered again, hoping the young guard might have taken it upon himself to hand the King his golden-bladed sword, which he was quite in need of at the moment. Silently, Abbas prayed that he wouldn't die at the hands of the magic-users who had invaded his castle.

---

He felt her release her magic just as she was about to hit him. In the same moment, the door jerked open behind him and he was suddenly falling backwards with her right on top. Moving his body as best he could, he quickly shifted his blade to try to run her through, but the angle was off and he missed, only scrapping her just slightly. His other hand, thankfully, closed in around her wrist as she continued forward with his dagger. The gauntlet crushed her hand, stopping her from running the blade to its hilt in his side. All three hit the floor, Abbas' words only just then registering with the young knight.

The witch then turned her attention to him, grinning wildly in the moonlight that flooded the King's room. Tyrothane felt Abbas slide out from underneath him as the woman lunged for him with Ty's dagger in hand. He lifted his body to help his King get free and rolled to the right. The movement made him very aware of exactly just how much glass had been embedded in his chest and arms. With a soft groan he steeled himself and pushed upwards to get back to his feet. A solid thump alarmed him and he glanced quickly towards the door to see his King rolling into the hall.

Fear struck him. Was the man injured? Had the woman thrown him out the door? Tyrothane didn't know but he wasn't about to let her kill him. Ty lifted his blade and shot at her as she was attempting to chase after the King. She caught sight of him at the last second, having been too focused on the King to realize anything else. Ty's sword went through her as she turned to regard him. She pulled herself forward on his blade as her lips muttered something that he figured was more magic. Grinding his teeth, he wrenched the weapon from her, ripping it free as random items in the room seemed to come alive.

At her beckon call, the woman manipulated the many inanimate objects in the King's room and shot them at Tyrothane. He managed to dodge most of it, his blade and gauntlet taking the brunt of the attacks. A particularly heavy item caught him across his eyebrow, throwing his head back. Ty stumbled, dazed by the hit and dropped to the floor with his sword impaling the wood as the only thing that kept him upright. There was a feeling of dizziness as every limb went numb. A soft buzzing filled his ears as he knelt there.

There was a soft thump in the room and then his name was called in the hall. He tried to answer, but found he couldn't move. He was struggling to stay conscious. The young guard concentrated on his breathing, forcing it in and out at a steady rate as his eyes slid shut. A sharp cry from the hall gathered his attention. Snapping his eyes opened he spotted Abbas' sword not to far from him. Leaning forward he snatched the weapon up into his grip and forced himself to stand. His eye stung from the wound, blood getting into his gaze, but he ignored it.

Stumbling out into the dark hall, he quickly spotted the King pressed against a pillar partway down the hall from his room. Tyrothane moved quickly, hearing the man call his name again albeit a bit softer than before. Was his King... nervous? That emotion being put across slightly startled Tyrothane. He wouldn't have thought that Abbas could have been nervous about anything. He reached out and took the man's hand and pressed the golden weapon into the palm of the King's grip.

"Sire," he said, "I'm here. She said there are more-"

He was about to suggest a few ideas as to what they should do next when a sound from down the hall interrupted him. Turning to the sound, he pressed his hand against the King's chest, holding him there as he looked out into the dark hall, eyes narrowed. There was movement in the darkness. Following it were voices, high pitched voices that were singing a cold song that echoed through the hall. Ty winced, one eye closing as the song pierced his ears and made his head feel as if it were going to explode. Grinding his teeth, he sheathed his sword and tore at the tattered sleeve of the shirt he wore. Rolling up the cloth he stuffed it into his ears, essentially blocking out most of the noise, though he could still hear mumbled bits of it.

Leaning forward he spoke to Abbas, "Stay here, cover your ears," he ordered. Ty moved into the hall to deal with the intruders, unsheathing a dagger as he went. They were still singing as they moved down the hall, giving him a slight headache. Tossing the blade up in his hand, he gripped it by the end of the blade and drew back his arm. Flinging the weapon forward, he moved as soon as it was released from his hand. The sword came free as he shot down the hall very quickly to engage the closest one on the left.

This one wielded a sword and he smashed into both weapon and owner, forcing them backwards. Steel slid across steel, grinding together to fill the hall with the noise. The second one had turned to try to help their comrade, unsheathing a weapon as well and rushing the young knight. Whipping around, Ty met them just as equally as the first. Deflecting the blade, he fell into a solid rhythm. The weapons clanged together as he switched between the both of them, knocking their weapons away from him and attacking at the same time. At the rate he was going, he could only fend them off with no real opportunity of killing either one, and should they decide to resort to more potent magic, he was certainly doomed to fail. Tyrothane could only hope that the guards of the castle would hear the commotion and come to their aid soon.

---

---

Abbas was quite panicked, as his sight had been thrown off somehow. He had originally blamed the dark, but now that the moon was seeping in through the broken windows, he wasn't sure of this. The darkness of his earlier nightmare seemed to be threatening to collapse over him again, and his eyes shot to the floor, to make sure he was still being held upright. It was about then that he felt someone near him, but before he could worry himself, the unidentified person spoke. "Sire, I'm here," said Tyrothane, unmistakably, as he pressed the King's sword into his hand. "She said there are more-" the boy continued, but even before his speech had been cut off, Abbas knew of what his knight was speaking of. He had heard it only a few moments before.

But this time, the magic-users had obviously gotten quite closer, as their singing was almost unbearable. Abbas felt extreme pressure rise into his head as if someone was beating on his skull with an ax. His grip on his golden-bladed sword tightened, his knuckles slowly fading to white. He didn't even hear Tyrothane speak to him nor did he hear the young boy leave. The pain just kept rising until it all popped.

He let out a small murmur of relief. It was like all of his senses had snapped back into place somehow, and he was once again alert. He finally got a good look at the situation. Glass lay across the hall from shattered windows, which the King assumed was exposing the castle in quite a negative way.

Abbas was about to rush into the fight after his guard, trying to drown out the singing by throwing his arms over his ears, when he noticed an eerie movement in his own chamber. He felt his heart skip a beat. Where had the witch gone? Silently, he glided back toward his chamber, trying not to step on the residue of the fight that had taken place only minutes earlier. Peering through his own doorway, Abbas saw nothing out of the ordinary, as everything was quite shielded in the dark.

Abbas, about to leave, felt a jolt when he finally noticed what was wrong with the entirety of the picture. There, in a fetal position, lay the witch woman, moaning a sort of chant to herself. Her eyes were glazed over, so heavily in a trance that she didn't even notice her target before her. She just lie there, continuing to moan. The sound almost seemed to match the singing, but it was much quieter and didn't cause Abbas's skull to feel as if it were about to burst.

She was the conductor, the King realized, and if he took her out he would possibly make it easier for his guard to fight the intruders. He quietly glided across the room toward the witch, raising his golden sword. She didn't flinch or move at all at his approach, as if it was completely unnoticed by her. That was, until he stepped on his bow, snapping the wooden tool in half with a loud crunch. The witch snapped up in shock, but her magic was not fast enough. Abbas swung like he was attempting to bring down a tree, the blade colliding with her neck.

A horrible, high pitch scream ran through the air as Abbas made impact, the sound obviously coming from the others like her, but it quickly dulled into a silence so quiet that the thud of the woman's head on the floor could have echoed through the entire castle. The King could hear shuffling beneath him, as the screams had obviously alerted the knights on rounds. Smiling, he hurried down the hall toward the noise of battle.

Tyrothane was holding his own quite well, fending off the beastly women. Abbas eagerly raised his sword, his spirits obviously lifted from the head that was lying in his chambers, and he charged to help hold the hallway until more help arrived.

---

Both women's blades slide over his gauntlet as he twisted underneath them. They'd tried to run him through on both sides, but Tyrothane had been too quick for them. Shifting his body, he stepped forward, slipping underneath their weapons and twisting to slash outwards with his sword. The weapon cut across the abdomen of one of the witches, making her hiss in pain and step away. Whirling around on his opposite foot, Ty struck out at the second woman. Turning his hand that was in the metal gauntlet, he gripped the blade of her sword tightly. She struggled with him, a bit of fear in her eyes as he kept her from running away.

Tyrothane lashed out with his sword only to have it deflected by her magic. Gritting his teeth, he pulled her forward via her sword and then shoved backwards. She stumbled from the sudden release, slipped on some glass and fell onto her back on the floor. Turning back around, the young knight met with the second woman, his blade dropping down to deflect hers off to his right side. He slashed at her with his gauntlet, attempting to cut into her face and neck with the long sharpened claws of the weapon attached to his arm. She pulled back, avoiding him for the most part though a nice crimson line appeared across her lower jaw where he'd just barely caught her.

Removing his blade from hers, he dropped back just enough to extend his leg out to land a rather hard kick into her stomach. The music was still ringing in the air, making his headache pound relentlessly, so when he kicked at her, he felt dizzy. Pulling back, his attack was far less effective than he'd wanted and he stumbled to try to keep his balance. Tyrothane's breath was already short as he took several steps back to reset himself. He watched them both carefully as they recovered and prepared to attack him again. As they synchronized their attack together, Tyrothane grit his teeth as he prepared for it. Then they both suddenly screamed rather loudly, stopping in their tracks for a mere moment.

At first, the young guard wasn't sure what had happened, but then his eyes widened and he whirled around to see where his King had gone. When he didn't see anything he almost took off down the hall to find Abbas. However, a sharp sound from behind him, kept him from going after the tall man. Flipping back around, his gaze locked onto the blades of both women that came right at him. Reaching out, he gripped one blade and threw it outwards so that she missed him completely. Dodging off to the left, he raised his sword and let it slide across the second witches as she blew past him. Turning his body with them as they streaked by, he slashed his blade outwards, catching across one woman's back rather deeply. She screeched, falling forward before catching herself at the last second to turn around and face him.

Tyrothane noted that Abbas was on his way to join him then and he wondered exactly what had just happened and where the King had gone. For the moment though, he pushed all that aside and concentrated on the fight with the magic users. With a little more attention to the situation, Ty noted that the song had stopped and both women seemed to be using less magic than before. Encouraged by this, he thrust himself vigorously into the fight. As Abbas took one of the women, he took the other. From the hallway that intersected into the King's hall leading to his chambers, boots sounded across the floor. The young knight ignored this as he fought with the witch, doing his best to keep going as he could feel his strength slowly fading. The wound across his eyebrow was pounding terribly, threatening to drop him where he stood.

He shook it off, his eye slowly closing as he couldn't see out of it anyway with the amount of blood that had spilled into it. Panting, he flipped the blade around to block one of her attacks, turning his body so that she was forced to come to his other side again. With his back to Abbas' room, he could now see when the guards of the castle would be coming to help them. At least he hoped they would be guards. He batted aside another slash at his chest, just barely knocking it away in time. The woman grinned, noting his slowing reactions.

Tyrothane continued to slow himself, purposefully to throw her off. However, it earned him a few too many more cuts than he'd liked, but he would deal with it. The witch took the bait very well and as she felt overly confident and lunged at him full force, he ducked out the way rapidly, lifting up his sword at the same time so that she ran through it herself. Her blade clattered to the floor next to him as she coughed, shaking slightly upon his weapon. Tyrothane stood up slowly and withdrew his sword. She stumbled backwards a bit before collapsing onto the floor. It was at that moment that the Captain and a contingent of guards arrived.

Turning to assist his King in fighting the last witch, Ty found that he didn't need to as his Captain had taken her by surprise. She'd been concentrating on the King only, her mission to kill him the only thing running through her that she didn't pay attention to her surroundings, much like the first witch that had attacked earlier. Even so, it made Ty wonder about all three of them. It seemed like those two were mere puppets to something bigger. Perhaps it had been the woman in King Abbas' room, the one he'd stabbed with his sword. In any case they were all dead finally and the King was safe again, for the moment anyway.

"Your Majesty, you're alright?" the Captain asked, slowly sheathing his sword and stepping up to the tall man to look him over for any life threatening injuries.

Ty stood slightly behind them, his breath short as he struggled to stay standing, "Hate... mages," he muttered slowly between heaving breathes. His head bowed forward as the other eye closed slowly. It was probably a bad idea to do so, but he couldn't help it. The blade in his hand slipped from his fingers as everything went numb. Already bleeding from multiple wounds, the one that was the worst was the one across his eyebrow. Tyrothane dropped to his knees first, then slowly fell over onto his side completely unconscious.

---

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The battle raged on in the dim-lighted part of the castle. After the defeat of the first witch, the women seemed to be weakening, raising King Abbas's spirits much higher than they had been only a few moments ago. Tryothane skillfully battled one of enchantresses, and, out of the corner of his eyes, his Majesty caught glimpses of their fight. But, Abbas was a bit preoccupied. His cockiness, dulled by his earlier pain and nervousness, had since returned as he glided in battle around the witch. Her strikes were easy to dodge and her magic wasn't aiding her any longer.

And that was about when the other soldiers came hurrying to their aid. No longer could he glance over to his guard, as the witch was giving him all that she had left in her. She jabbed her sword at his side, something he avoided with a quick side step, and as she turned to counter, the blade of someone standing directly behind her ran straight through her chest. With a soft wheeze, she seemed frozen in time, his unmoving face still alive with horror. Then, as the sword was yanked back out of her body, she collapsed onto the stone floor.

Now visible was the Captain, who was admiring his bloodstained sword. Quickly, he sheathed it and approached his King with a worried look upon his face. "Your Majesty, you're alright?" he asked, but was quickly cut off by Tyrothane. The boy muttered something inaudible to Abbas just before he crumpled to the floor. A few knights rushed over to the aid of their fellow soldier. Abbas raised an eyebrow.

"Oh dear," he said, eyeing the injured knight with a raised eyebrow.

The Captain, obviously irritated by his insensitivity, tried to hide his scowl. He quickly turned to the few soldiers awkwardly holding their comrade. "Take him to the medic," he ordered sternly. About three knights hurried off with Tyrothane's limp body. Abbas wondered if they had any relation to the guard, but was interrupted by the Captain back at his side. "You should probably go-"

Abbas, ignoring the sensible piece of advice, turned to one of the cavaliers standing nearby. The knight seemed quite startled at the attention from the King. "You there, go and round up the council for a gathering," he said, sending the soldier off down the hall. "Oh!" he called. "Make sure they have food in the hall too! I'm famished!" With that, Abbas hurried off in the other direction. Footsteps followed him, which wasn't surprising.

Stopping in place, Abbas allowed the Captain to catch up, noting the quizzical look on the man's face. "What, in the bloody name of sanity, happened?" he asked. Cooperatively, Abbas regurgitated the events that happened only a few moments ago, which actually took quite a while to explain. He did leave out his sinking suspicion that they were the intruders who had entered though his father's passage. The Captain looked almost shocked that his men hadn't come sooner.

"Your Majesty, I-" he started, but Abbas held his hand out to silence the bulky man. The voices of chattering people carried down the hallway- Abbas was quite impressed. The council had been called quite quickly; he applauded the work of the knight.

He wasted no time out in the hallway, as he would most certainly forget what he was about to say if he did. Practically floating right into the hall, he was hit by the aroma of food. The room, dimly lighted by the torches upon the walls and small windows that were big enough only to let in moonlight, was filled by a table. The table's length stretched from almost one end of the hall to the other, and every seat seemed to be filled. There was a small amount of food placed on the table, as the poor burly cook most likely had dished out what was left in his kitchens, opposed to making a feast on the spot.

Abbas, taking his seat at the head of the table, noted at how quiet the council got in his presence. He looked over their faces, most of them unknown to him. His mother and father had chosen this council, and he had never bothered changing it, except the occasional occurrence one of members died. In fact, some of the council deaths had been his fault, as they all had some kind of duty in helping him rule, thus the attacks were causing their numbers to dwindle.

"So," he spoke, after a small cough to clear his voice which was beginning to grow hoarse, "tonight has been quite fun." Some men uneasily chuckled at the sarcastic remark, but Abbas clearly caught the Captain shaking his head with a smirk on his face as if embarrassed to be associated with him. Ignoring everyone else, he continued. "I, personally, would prefer to drink to forget, but I'm afraid I must discuss a few matters with you all. Starting with how the attackers got in."

He was sure, if his guard was here, the young boy would have already been stammering how his head deserved to be on the block. That was precisely why he was saying it- because Tyrothane wasn't here. "I believe that was my fault in entirety." The crowd remained silent. No one seemed shocked to see that their King had done something idiotic.

"I neglected to tell you about passages in and out of the castle for my own pleasure, meanwhile risking the lives of all of us in here, especially myself. Behind the rather hideous portrait of my family is a tunnel that leads to the village right outside our castle doors. I suppose it needs to be sealed off, as that, I think, is how the witches entered our humble abode."

The Captain made an action that looked as if he was raising his hand, like a small school child. "Sire, I don't mean to interrupt, but if there is one passage you did not tell us about, are there any others?"

"Not at all," lied Abbas, as he thought of the few other secrets of the castle his father showed him. He didn't wish to disrespect the former King's honor by giving away all of his secrets. It was one special connection he had left with his murdered parent, something he didn't wish to give away quite so freely. "Yes, I do believe that is all. Now, enjoy the food, converse, or go back to bed. I really don't mind which option you choose."

So this was how Abbas spent the rest of his night, stuffing himself until he felt he might burst and dousing down wine like some glutinous pig. But, due to his genes and height, he knew the consequences would be nothing near gaining weight. He celebrated his victory against those who wished to do him harm; he celebrated the disemboweled head that lied on his bedroom floor. What a shock the maid would get when she saw that! He laughed and talked like the whole night had been nothing, and, as the sun started to shimmer through the windows, he knew he'd have to go through more danger and attacks once again.

And, with that depressing thought, Abbas went to sleep there on the table in a haze. Surrounded by people he didn't know and people who thought they knew him, he dozed away. And, once again, he was falling into a deep black.

(Gosh! Very, very sorry how long that took me! I'll try to be a bit more snappy next time... and not lose it all by shutting down my computer...)