The Forgotten Zodiac

Werr had been lucky not to have been hit again before Jag and Welk had moved in to save him. He had seriously underestimated the damage to his arm and side, though. Now that it was safe, he felt the pain all at once, which caused him to cry out and fall back, his sword dropping to the ground.

The bones in his arm were shattered beyond natural repair, even his hand was bent in a way that he had never seen it before. There were a few holes from the spikes on the mace, but they were perhaps the least of his worries. His side ached with the agony of several broken ribs. To make it look even worse, nasty black bruises that were swelled already trailed up his arm and down his chest. The arrowhead had been dug in so deep that it was poking through the other side of his arm. He had been hit full-force with a spiked metal orb that had been twice the size of his head. To be honest, he was lucky to be alive, much less conscious still.

Seria would have healed him then, but unfortunately...

((In comes Dark and Light?

Oh yeah, and I MISSED JOO. -hugz-))

((-flails and hugs- :D))

Welk snapped himself out of his shock at seeing Cynyr and ran over to Werr, carefully sniffing over the boy's arm and quivering from his still-bleeding wound in his left side. Since all of the current battlefield lizardmen were dead, he was able to concentrate on Werr for a moment. "Your...your arm..." he said, staring in horror at the boy's arm. He sheathed and unsheathed his claws nervously, unable to look away from his closest friend's mangled limb.

Seria came over and carefully checked over Werr's arm, unable to heal him as she didn't have her powers. Instead, she chose to rip her shirt away to just over her navel and wrap the fabric around his wounds so they wouldn't bleed so badly.

Cynyr wandered over, his right eye closed, blood seeping out from under the lid. "Cynyr, your eye!" Seria said, moving over to try and see the wound, but the panther pushed her away. "Don't," he said. "We've got more important things to worry about." He jerked a bloody hand over his shoulder at a gate that was opening at the other end of the arena, where two terribly familiar figures were standing, grins on their faces.

Dark and Light, with their weapons already drawn.

Werr leaned against Welk with his good side, his pain-glazed eyes staring fearfully at Dark and Light. He murmured something along the lines of, 'oh no' as he somehow managed to slide behind his dear friend, his fingers clutching Welk's short mane.

The cheering that had come with the victory had descended to soft murmurs. The Tartarans were confused, to say the least. More intruders, looking as though they had the intent to challenge the ones already in the Arena? It wasn't proper, challenges had to be requested from king Titus if they wanted to proceed without interruptions. At least, that was as far as the Tartarans realized. They didn't understand the serious threat that Welk and all the others would have to face.

Welk snarled and stayed close to Werr, saying "Not them again! What do we do?"

"We fight," Cynyr said. "And we win. Simple as that."

"Easy for you to say..." Welk said, glancing back at Werr in concern.

Jag snorted, then said "Seria, you stay back here with Werr. The rest of us have to go out there and kill this sons of-"

"That's enough out of you," Cynyr said. "There's and young mind behind us that already knows more bad words than he needs to."

Welk frowned at him, saying "It's not my fault that Forin says a lot of stuff."

"Shut up," Cynyr said. "Concentrate on the fight or you stand a good chance of dying."

Welk gulped, then turned and quickly pressed his muzzle against Werr's cheek, nuzzling the boy for only a moment before he heard Jag say "They're advancing," and had to turn away.

Light and Dark strutted out onto the field, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh ho! Look at this, brother!" Light said. "It's our good ol' friends! The annoying gryphon, the crybaby cat, the wimpy little boy and the ruined panther! ...I hate them all." He smiled, showing off teeth that had been filed down to sharp points.

"Patience, brother," Dark said. "Don't let your overconfidance get the better of you,"

"Pah, I know that!" Light growled. "Just stay out of my way, brother."

The crowd went silent as immense magical power swept over the group. Titus landed behind Dark and Light, his claws slipping into the back of their collars, stopping them in their tracks. "You two...are not natural beings." He murmured, mild confusion inching its way onto his face. "You need not to state your business, but you must understand the way I prefer things around here. Despite popular belief, fighting is discouraged - and killing illegal - unless proper challenges are made. Unless you are willing to remain in my prisons for the next ten thousand centuries, I suggest you make said proper challenges." He watched them both, his magic settling around them as he felt what they were capable of. Interesting, indeed.

Light opened his mouth to retort, but Dark had the sense to clamp a hand over his sibling's mouth. "Very well, then," he said, letting go of Light and leaving a thin sheen of shadow across his mouth to keep him quiet. He strode forward and stopped a few feet away from his brother and Titus, raising his sword and pointing it at the group. "I issue a challenge for a fight to the death, by orders of Lord Obelisk, Master of all Shadows, King of Darkness, and Emperor over all who walk and breath life. I and my brother will fight the opposing forces until all members of one side cease to draw breath and it is impossible for them to reclaim their lifeforces. Once all of one side are dead, the fight will have been won." He said all of this without so much as a flicker of a smile, his eyes emotionless. Not like Light, who practically squealed as his brother made his challenge.

"W-we...refuse..." Werr spluttered at them, his eyes shakily locking gazes with Titus. His silent plea was met with cold hatred. Werr's heart plummeted as Titus spoke again while he released Light from his grip.

"Refusal denied." He stated bluntly before lauching himself into the air again, landing once more on his throne. "A fight to the death, it is. But I shall make it more interesting...all wounds gained by any member of either side, from this point onwards, shall be shared by all other members of that team." Of course, such a thing meant nothing to Dark and Light, who were already bound in such a way. But it was quite serious.

If one went down, all of them would.

Titus snapped his fingers, sealing his words into reality.

And the cheering started once more.

"What?!" Cynyr said, his jaw dropping open and his sharp fangs gleaming in the light. He growled, ignoring the throbbing in his wounded eye. If Seria could heal it in time, perhaps he could keep his sight in that eye. But at this rate, he had already lost hope of that and had given up seeing out of his right eye ever again. He snarled, his ears flattening against his head in preparation for the fight.

Light stuck his tongue out of his mouth and licked his lips, saying "Ahh, I can already taste the blood!"

"You little vampire," Dark said, letting Light step up next to him before they both started walking towards the group together.

"Here they come," Welk said fearfully, twitching his stumped tail. He flattened his ears as well, swallowing.

Jag took gryphon form and leapt upwards, beating his wings strongly as he soared up. Once he was high enough, he let out an ear-piercing eagle cry and swept downwards like a bullet, arching towards the brothers.

That was the signal for Cynyr and Welk, who both shifted effortlessly to animal form and took off running, meeting the brothers head-on.

Werr closed his eyes and leaned up against Seria instead, afraid to pass out. What if all the others fell unconscious, too? It would be the end of them all! He had to stay awake, no matter what. He kept his eyes shut tight, though; he didn't dare watch the fight, nor did he want to see any new wounds forming on his own body in correspondence with the other's. He could do nothing but sit there and tremble against Seria, hurt and afraid. A helpless human.

Seria knelt down on one knee next to him and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his head and curling one arm around his shoulders, her hand moving up to gently rub her thumb over his cheek.

Welk bounded around the battlefield, doing everything he could to avoid Light, who was wildly swinging his black blade around in front of him. "Come on, cat! Stick around and fight, why don't you? It'll be fuuuun!" He clipped Welk's left shoulder with the edge of the weapon, causing similar cuts to appear of the rest of the group's left shoulders. The fighters were taking extreme measures to not get hit by the swinging blades, and so far, they were doing fairly well. This also meant, however, that they couldn't go in and attack the brothers up close with risking serious injury.

Cynyr and Jag were working together against Dark while Welk kept Light's attention focused on him. Jag had actually managed to fly in while Cynyr had distracted Dark and nick the white-clad being's arm. It was hard to fight while trying not to get any wounds.

Werr shuddered as the wound formed on his arm, but he clung to consciousness, his previous realization ringing in his mind. He thought the same words over and over again. Don't fall alseep. Don't fall asleep.

Titus, in the meantime, had ordered something to be brought to him. He held it up now; a small hand-held mirror, with silver and gold forming the frame and handle, a twisted swirl of precious metals around the dusty surface of the mirror. He swept his hand across the mirror, then murmured something to said mirror, albeit a little hesitantly. "Calling her Majesty, Queen Galai. I suggest you respond."

Slowly, the beautiful image of the queen formed in the mirror, her white-blonde hair trailing in delicate waves down her shoulders, her solid white eyes surprised. "King Titus," she greeted, nodding her head once. "It is...good to see you again." She was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching the image of her mate that she was seeing through her own mirror, then said "I...have missed you. But you must not have contacted me out of a mere desire to chat. What brings about this calling?"

"Firstly, I suggest you double your guard immediately. Something slipped past the Divine without us being contacted. Either our child was distracted, or something has happened to it." Titus spoke softly with a tone of urgency, but it quickly slipped into something sounding perhaps like disgust. "Said things that slipped past are here now. They have challenged Werr Grehi and his...company. Werr had already suffered potentially fatal injuries by the time they arrived. He is not aware of it, but the moment he falls unconscious, the shock and pain of his injuries will overwhelm him and relieve him of sanity and, in turn, his own life."

He paused, glancing up at the fight before turning his cold gaze back down to Galai. There was no flicker of happiness, no break in the stony expression he normally wore. "That human that came before him. The boy's father, Sylas Rowe...what was he, to you? What is this Werr Grehi to you? Why is it that you favor them so?" Naturally, Titus had recognized the light magic within Werr, the leftovers from what Galai had used to cure him. He knew of how little Galai ever used her powers.

Galai closed her eyes and looked down, then said "Sylas was a dear friend to me. His intelligence and kindness were seemingly unheardof in humans. I see his spirit in his son, the same thoughtfulness and loyalty. Sylas was the only human to ever come past the gate and survive the Divine, and I know he was forced to speak with it. I once even heard the Divine say that Sylas was his favorite human, which is rare. Sylas was a compelling, intuitive man, and he earned my respect. It seems only natural that I help return the joy he gave me to speak with him by showing kindness to his son, of whom I see the same spark inside of. Plus, I sense...something...in him. He is different from his father, yes, in a few regards, but still. He is worth what I gave him. They all are." Her bright eyes pleaded with her mate, silently begging him not to let Werr and his friends die and...something else.

A deep-set need to simply be loved by her husband.

The coldness in Titus' expression softened ever so slightly as he listened to Galai speak and allowed her unspoken pleas to wash over him. His normal self returned moments later, though. "I cannot merely stop this fight..." He murmured. "The challenge was given perfectly. But..." Another short pause, then he set down the mirror. "Very well then. I will keep Werr conscious and sane. Leave your gates open, and dim the lights ever so slightly, if you don't mind. I will be there within the hour."

With that, he set the mirror down. Galai's image vanished and the mirror returned to being just that. He lifted his hand ever so slightly, a tendril of shadow creeping up to gently touch the back of Werr's neck. It sank into him from there, and started work at once. Naturally, Werr felt nothing but the tiniest twinge of relief from the pain. Like something was blocking it ever so slightly, exactly how it had been when adrenaline had surged through his system only minutes before. He also felt clarity of mind once more; no longer did he have to force himself to remain awake, although his exhaustion still existed. When Werr opened his eyes to see what was going on, he saw Seria first, still holding him tightly. But after that, there was...nothing. He heard nothing, saw nothing, smelled nothing. It was oddly...relaxing, although he knew it was a hallucination. Maybe I'm dying, he thought numbly, not wanting to move.

Titus could do nothing for the seriousness of Werr's wounds, but he was perfectly capable of manipulating how the boy saw such things. While the king saw nothing in Werr that he thought Galai did, he was far from unloving. If she wanted Werr and his friends to live on, then live on they would.

Titus dropped his hand. At once, the chains that held back the powers of the group were gone. Seria's healing abilities returned, Cynyr's wind powers, Welk's fire, and Jagat's item-summoning; all of it was back in an instant.

Cynyr gasped softly when he felt his wind powers return to him, then growled, instantly used to having them back again. Jag took human form and spawned an entire arsenal of weapons, smiling. Welk laughed and let a thick plume of flames rip loose from his body, watching happily as the fire rocketed skyward.

Light and Dark both gripped the handles of their weapons tighter, each readying bolts of shadow and sunlight to use.

With the return of their powers, the playing field had been leveled for the weary fighters of Werr's group.

Welk grinned and engulfed Light in the flames, saying "Let's go, sicko! You wanted to fight? Well, here's my real powers!"

Light leaped backwards, growling and ripping off his burning outer coat to leave him in a simple black sleeveless shirt. "Fool!" he shouted, glaring at the lion. "You're gonna pay for that!"

Welk just pulled back his lips into a smile, narrowing his eyes at the black-clad twin.

Cynyr attacked Dark with deadly precision, allowing Jag to fly up into the sky and start shooting at both of the twins with arrows. Both sides seemed to get around the same amount of wounds during this time, with various nicks and cuts. Finally, the fight was won.

Welk was cut across his side by Light's blade, causing everyone else to cry out in pain as the same wound spawned on their bodies. Angry at being cut and causing his friends pain, Welk released a humongous, burning inferno that completely engulfed Light in fire. Welk took a bounding leap that brought him right into the heart of the flames. He tackled Light and stopped his own output of fire, pinning Light to the ground with his hands around the dark-clad twin's neck. When Light moved to try and twist away, Welk dug his claws into his neck lightly, just enough to draw thin lines of blood.

When Dark looked over and saw his brother pinned like that and felt the pressure around his own neck, he called "Stop! Stop, don't hurt him!"

The crowd exploded with excitement. There was plenty of calls, most of them along the lines of 'kill him'. Titus didn't remain where he was; rather, he landed neatly next to the fighters. He glanced sideways at Welk. "The challenge issued was a fight to the death. You do not have to adhere to killing them in order to complete the fight, however, as you were the ones being challenged. Do as you will, but this fight is over."

With that, he turned and plucked Werr from Seria's grip, not caring that she hadn't healed him yet. It didn't matter to him. He was fully intent upon holding Werr until they arrived back in Galai's castle.

"No! Kill me!" Light shouted, glaring at Welk. "We asked for a fight to the death, and that's what I want, even if it's my death we're talking about!"

"No!" Dark wailed, dropping his weapon to show submission. "Please, don't kill him! If you do, I die as well! I don't care about my life, though, just please don't kill him."

Light stared at him in shock, then snarled and glared ferociously. "Are you afraid to die, brother? Hmm? Is that it?! What are you afraid of, huh?!"

Dark closed his eyes for a moment, then said "A lifetime of loneliness, brother. That's what I fear."

Light just looked at him for a moment, then turned away, still angry with him.

Slowly, Welk let go of Light's neck and backed away, panting. He then scrambled over to Titus, anxiously peering up at Werr in his arms. He was rather intimidated by the king, obviously, but he wasn't going to just move away. The king was holding Werr, which was an automatic lure to the lion half-cat.

Seria moved over and meekly stared up at the king, biting her lip in nerves.

Jag experimentally nicked himself with the tip of one arrow, finding that since they had won the fight, the wound-binding spell had been removed. The nick didn't show up on any of the others' arms. Jag snorted, pleased, then moved to trot past Light and rejoin them, ready to go back home to Lily. Lily...his soon-to-be wife. He smiled slightly, almost unbelieving of the simple fact.

A sword knifed through his back and burst out through his chest, halting him in his tracks.

Light grinned, his black blade coated in the gryphon's blood.

Titus reacted instantly. He dropped Werr, knowing the human would be fairly oblivious to it all. In one fluid movement, he ripped the blade from Jag's chest and from Light's grip at the same time. One step forward, one swing, and both of Light's hands hit the ground, sliced cleanly away from the arms they belonged to. Another swift movement, and another; Light was blinded, his eyes cut into and bleeding horrifically. One final motion, and the sword was driven into Light's foot and then down into the solid rock floor, the sword stuck very firmly the next instant.

And all of this in the space of time that it took one to heave a sigh. Titus turned on heel, scooping Werr back up in his arms. "Make haste, Seria." He said quietly, motioning towards Jag. He looked up at the Tartarans, who were still cheering joyously. "Take them to the dungeons. I shall deal with them upon my return."

Dark threw his head back and screamed violently as the same wounds appeared on his body, while Light was merely limp, a thin, exhausted smile on his lips at hearing his brother scream. "You...wanted to...stay with me...brother?" he panted. "C-congratulations...you get to stay." He chuckled, then went to all-out laughter, seeming to not care one bit about the pain his foolish move had just caused his twin. Dark had tears pouring from his eyes, the shock that Light would do something like this just to spite him hurting him worse that his wounds.

Seria scrambled over to Jag and quickly put her hands over his chest, slowly closing his wound while keeping his heart beating. Blood dripped from the gryphon's mouth, his blue eyes faint. "Hold on, Jag," Seria said, focusing all of her powers into the spell. "Just hold on a bit longer." The wounds closed and Jag's eyes came back into focus. He winced, slowly sitting up and rubbing his head. "Ach..." he grunted, blinking. "Who hit me?"

"He was taken care of," Cynyr said, moving forward and offering Jag his hand. The gryphon took it and allow Cynyr to help him up, then slowly started off after Titus. Cynyr walked close to him, making sure he stayed on his feet.

Seria spotted Cynyr's wounded eye again and moved over, one hand raised to try and heal it. To her surprise, Cynyr reached up and intercepted her hand in his own, moving hers down. "It's too late," he said quietly, his remaining eye distant. "Don't waste your energy on something that's already gone."

Seria opened her mouth to protest, but when she looked at Cynyr's wounded eye and the way the damage had been dealt, she knew he was right. The eye had been ruined the moment it had been cut. She sighed, lowering her gaze for a moment, then looked back up at him and simply nodded.

He kept her hand in his as they walked, silently taking comfort from her closeness.