Songs of the Silver Wizard

COMPENDIUM

“And what if I make the wrong choice?”

“The greatest bit of hubris a man can hold is denying there are choices without consequence. The right choice now may prove to be the wrong one ten years hence. The wrong choice now may yield but a scratch but prevent the tumbling of an unseen pebble that sparks an avalanche. The only way to truly fail is to never choose at all.”

Thaddeus spent many years amongst the animals. They were, after all, the source of Adrusian’s purest knowledge, yet even he couldn't have imagined in that moment of decision how well he chose his sturdy mount. Without issuing the command, Gavool collapsed under Bob's two hoofed kick to the chest.

Sadly, a werewolf’s chest was made of sturdier stuff than a mere mortal man. Gavool landed in a low crouch as the rest of his brood assaulted the lines, body already transforming in the moonlight. All around, men fought. Men died. Those that didn’t succumb now, well…

With a slash, Thaddeus’s sword bit into the hide of an onrushing wolf. though he was unable to see in the darkness if the blow was fatal or not, the reverberation up his arm was at least satisfying. A bite from a werewolf had two outcomes: the victim either received a slow, agonizing death, or was ever cursed to transform under the light of the moon into a blood seeking savage. Little was known about the curse. There was a single book within Headmaster Sefodarus’s collection related to the study of lycanthrope. Simply reading the studies between its bindings made Thaddeus regurgitate his meals for three days afterwards. The only satisfaction he found was in that the Headmaster responsible was entombed in lead and dropped into the ocean for his crimes, and even that was too kind a fate.

Man and beast twisted and twirled in their marital dance until the lines of battle between the two blurred into irrelevance.

And within that tempest, Thaddeus saw a silver sword, crafted by the best masters of Rannia, raised high aloft in the full moonlight, and he cursed. Though it was foolish to time such matters, fate being a cadence and rhythm indecipherable, Thaddeus had hoped Antonia’s sense would overcome her haste. Alas, he’d failed to articulate that advice.

Hack followed slash as Thaddeus tried in vain to reach her place in the blurred line. Many would fall on this night, still others would sing for death on the ‘morrow and be granted their wish, for that was mercy compared to what followed.

Fate’s cruel song crescendoed as Thaddeus came upon a circle of warriors, two foes locked in their center. In the shadows cast by the high moon and tall forest, Antonia thrusted forth, her swords dancing in a murderous twirl, each rotation turned away effortlessly by the half transformed Gavool's own dancing blades. His head was that of a wolf, jaw unhinged in a piercing, howling laugh, but torso down was that of a man moving with all of man’s precision and a wolf’s cunning. Despite her silver sword, a weapon with which one cut would burn his soul to ash, he laughed and laughed, and Antonia, whether goaded or foolish Thaddeus could not and might never know, over extended.

She let out a dull gasp, clearly audible over the din of battle.

Gavool pulled the dagger from between Antonia’s ribs with a sickening squelch. Her eyes went wide in the moonlight and her mouth draped open ever so slightly. All around the two of them went still.

“One of life’s little joys is watching a vampire succumb to lycanthropy. It is so, so pleasurable how their body does everything in its feeble power to resist what it cannot. And all it takes is the smallest mixing of blood for the delightful conclusion to become…inevitable,” Gavool said, licking his finger.

With one long, yellow fingernail, he drew a line across her face, blood welling from the wound as her arms failed feebly. "How I wish I had time to watch you die."

Antonia crumpled.

Gavool let out a howl and retreated to the depths of the forest with his brood, and none of Thaddeus’s host had the will left to pursue.

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A/N:

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