Kingdom of Camelon

Chapter 1

The Prophecy Secrets

                                                “At the turn of the 7th age of Camelon”


         As the dried nettles and crushed snake fangs boiled in the coal black cauldron, Wilner stretched his thin pale arm out trying to put a bottle of worm juice on the shelf.  He was cleaning his godfather’s shop, which had been given to him after his godfather mysteriously died on one of his trips to the Redwood Forest, just a day’s horse ride out of Tafilin.  Wilner never knew his real parents; supposedly his father was a great sorcerer during 6th Age of Camelon. 
         Wilner lived in his shop, taking care of his old godmother, who was a great witch of the 6th Age, and one of his father’s closest friends.
         A loud knock came to the door, startling Wilner, who dropped a bowl of stewed horned slugs he was getting ready to put into the cauldron.  He was very easily frightened and could not hurt a lacewing fly if his life depended on it. He was naturally scared of things. He also had low confidence. Once when he was a child, he accidentally spilled his orangana juice in an attempt to ask the girl he loved out on a date.  She beat him up right on the spot.  After that incident, Wilner’s confidence dropped and he was scared to ask any other girl he liked out.   
         “Come in, the door’s open.” he exclaimed while picking up the slugs.  He was expecting his best friend Demanston Bahell to be returning with the order of porcupine quills from Mr. Razi, a local raw supply and book shopkeeper.  No one opened the door.  Wilner slowly walked to the door, wand in his hand, ready to try to defend himself, even though he knew he couldn’t do anything.  The door blasted open, knocking Wilner to the floor.  A brilliant light came from where the door once just stood and in the middle stood a large shadowy figure.  Its eyes were made of burning coal; its hands were as big as tree trunks, and a laugh. A laugh only heard in the depths of hell.  The sight of this evil creature petrified Wilner. It looked exactly like a guard of Hell. It was like the one in his dreams, only this time it was real. A dream that Wilner kept having since his godfather died, two year ago. He knew it was his time to go to the afterlife.  However, the laughter held an oddly familiar note to it. Wilner had heard that laugh before.  The light suddenly stopped and the huge creature shrank to the size of a normal man. An eighteen year old boy with shabby brown hair, piercing blue eyes and a well built body stood in front of Wilner
         “You should have seen your face.  It was so funny…did you wet your pants?  Ha!…You did!…This is great!”
         Demanston Bahell stood in the doorway wearing a large grin of satisfaction.
         “What the frak was that?” Wilner blurted out in a fit of sudden rage.
         “That my friend is a little trick I call ‘Guard of Hell’.  It’s a combo of shape shifter, flashpoint, and voice manipulator.  That’s actually the first time I’ve tried it and it seems to have worked quite well.”
         Wilner slowly got up from his fetal position.
         “Did you get the porcupine quills I told you to?”
         “Of course I did.  I may forget some things, but when it comes to helping my best friend, I never forget.”
         Demanston handed the bag in his hand to Wilner, avoiding the spilled slugs on the floor.
    “I think you should go change your pants before anyone sees you.  Don’t worry about the slugs; I’ll put them in the cauldron for you.  When do the porcupine quills go in?”
Shouting from the stairs Wilner said “Not till tomorrow. Anyways, I need to crush them into powder.”
      “I guess I’ll start doing that.  It’s the least I can do for making you wet your pants and all.”
Chuckling began to come from the door and Demanston knew Angy had come home in the midst of Wilner’s embarrassment.

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         In a distant land ravaged by war and misfortune, there ruled a king like no other.  His immortality was not common to humans.  His name was Abaddon, ruler of the Kingdom of Nolava.  He ruled from the capital city of Zocarh. Nolava was created when, in the first stage of Camelon, King Arthur decided to give up land he did not need or wan. Nolava had very little resources and was home to only the foulest of creatures.
         Abaddon had lived for 765 years, 733 of which had been in rule of Nolava.  His immortality came as a mystery to all but a few who knew his secret.  His physical presence was that of a warrior.  Straight black hair flowed from his scalp and his deep black eyes could puncture any soul.  His impressive height, taller than the tallest orc, made many fear him.  Yet many who saw him for the first time would think of him as a handsome giant.
    Throughout his reign he tried to raise Nolava to a position equal to Camelon, but no amount of magic could change the cursed land.  He had asked for help from Camelon many times, but none came.
         “Sire, we have reports that the Goblins have agreed to join your great scheme.”
         “Thank you, Larsin, for such great news.  Have you received any word from the Trolls?  I do hope that they are smart enough to understand my proposal.”
         “No Sire, I have not, but I am sure they will join our ranks.”
         “Good…Good.  I hope they do.”
         Abaddon gave a smile of happiness, the likes of which resembled the face of an evil conqueror.  His dreams of having unlimited resources for Nolava were very close in sight.  Little did he know that a prophecy was being fulfilled…

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         As Abaddon’s forces amassed, Wilner, his godmother Angy, and Demanston were discussing the recent sightings of werewolves in the forest over dinner.
         “Do you actually believe that werewolves live in Camelon, Angy?” Wilner questioned.
         “Why my dear, that’s how I believe your godfather left us.”
         “Are you sure?”
         “My child, I don’t believe they wanted to kill him, just scare him enough to keep him from talking. He had a secret.  A secret so important that not even I, the one he trusted with everything, knew what it was.”
         “How do you know this?” Demanston replied.
         “Well, before I married him, he would always carry a lavishly decorated book containing a letter an elf friend gave him.  One day, I went through this book, curious as I always was, and found the letter.  It was written in some strange language, old elfish I guess.  I asked him about it and he went crackers, screaming that I could have put the Kingdom into chaos and ruined the prophecy.”
         “What prophecy?” Wilner said puzzled.
         This had been the most confusing thing Wilner had ever heard his godmother say.  What prophecy?  What secret?  Could this be the reason why his godfather’s workshop room was always locked?
         “Is it that stupid prophecy that ‘Our King’ will return?” Demanston blurted out.
         “Demanston, no need to be rude!” Angy exclaimed as she swat him over the head.
         “I’m sorry mad’ am.  I just don’t believe in all that prophecy crap.”
         Angy exclaimed, “Demanston, watch your language.  One more time and you won’t get any steam baked cookies.”
         “I’m sorry again, mad’ am. Please, go on.”
         “Anyway, it is the prophecy of the return of the King.  Many years ago the last Arthurian King sent his only son to stop a rebellion in the marsh city Marlincor.  His son never came back; he was presumed dead, consumed by the Marsh of Despair.  When the King died, there was no proper heir to the throne, thus beginning the rule of the Stuarts.  Now Stuart Edward IV, the first Stuart of Camelon, set up an expedition to see if he could find the missing heir.  They never found him…but they did find his survival pack.  It wasn’t the pack that was the real discovery; it was the letter they found in it. A letter saying that the son had had a child on his expedition with a woman off the street.  An accident child, but still an heir to the throne.  This is where the prophecy comes into play.  The prophecy goes something like this:

“In the seventh age of our lord, the
Kingdom shall submerge under a great darkness, a
darkness like the one before the creation of Camelon.
Two stars will shine their light and destroy
the darkness.  The king and the mage shall
come to restore the peace that was lost.”

Everyone is waiting for the return of the king.”
         “What about the mage?” Wilner questioned.
         “No one really knows where the mage comes from or anything about him or her.  Not much was written about this mage.  Only a tablet in the Merlin Shrine talks about the mage.”
         “What does it say?” Demanston suddenly said, interested in the conversation.
         “I don’t really know.  I’ve never been to the Merlin Shrine.”
         A knock came abruptly to the door.  Upon opening it, Wilner saw it was Mr. Razi.
         “Good evening Wilner.  I came to check and make sure Demanston brought the porcupine quills you asked for.”
         Mr. Razi had always been like a father to Wilner, more so than his godfather.  He was always giving gifts and teaching him magic.  In fact, Wilner’s love for magic came from Mr. Razi.  Mr. Razi gave Wilner his first wand.
         “Why hello Mr. Razi, good to see you. Yes, I did get the porcupine quills and thank you again.”
         “Good, so Demanston can be trusted. I’ll be off now. Good evening.”
Demanston glared at Mr. Razi in a jokingly manner.
         “Don’t you want to stay for dinner?  Angy made her famous roasted chicken ball.”
         “Well, I didn’t have any dinner. Is it alright with Angy?”
         In the distance Angy shouted, “Come on in, we’d all enjoy the company. And I made extra just in case.”
         “Well, if you insist.”
         Mr. Razi’s plate overflowed with food: roasted chicken, boiled potatoes, fried frog legs, and wild rice.
         “This is delicious, Angy.  Where did you get the frog legs, if you don’t mind me asking?”
         “Well I got them from a trader on his way from Camelot.”
         “Ah yes, Camelot. Explains why they’re so tender and fat.  Everything is great in Camelot.  The food, the drinks, and the women, if you know what I mean.”
         “Mr. Razi, I never knew you could speak of such things.” Angy exclaimed.
         “Well when you are as old as me, there’s really not much that you haven’t said, especially when you’ve been with pirates.”
         “You’ve seen pirates?  Are they as the stories say?”  Wilner blurted out.
         “Yes, all the stories are true.  The wooden leg, the parrot, the hook, it’s all true.”
         “The raping? The pillaging?  They’re savages!”  Angy exclaimed.
         “Not all of them; not these.  These were part of the Luby Clan.  They vowed to change their ways after their leader fell in love with an elf.  After another clan of pirates killed the she-elf, the leader realized how everyone felt about pirates.  I met the Luby clan leader 30 years ago; he was the grandson of that leader.  The grandson was called Patt Luby.  He should still be their leader if he hasn’t died yet.  He was the youngest leader.  I helped his clan find the lost treasure of Aldezan…”
         “That’s not that hard to find.  It was said to be in one of the three Towers of Triumph.” Angy said.
         “Yes, but which one…that was the question.  I had found a book giving the exact location of the treasure.”
         “Not trying to change the subject but have you heard about the werewolf raids happening?” Angy interrupted.
         Mr. Razi’s face all of a sudden changed as if he had seen a demon from hell.  His complexion turned white as snow.
         “Are you ok, Mr. Razi?” Demanston replied.
         “I need to go. I’m so sorry but I must leave.”
         Mr. Razi bolted out of his chair, waved goodbye and left the house saying, “Don’t follow me, please, for your own safety.”
         That was the strangest thing Mr. Razi had ever done.  What had caused him to leave so suddenly?  Was it the question about werewolves or did he remember something?  Wilner was puzzled by Mr. Razi’s last statement.  Why should they not follow him?
         “That was real strange.  Was it something I said?” Angy questioned.
         “I don’t think so.  Well, you did interrupt him in the middle of his cool story.  Man, that probably explains why he has so much money and all those cool swords.  I wish I could meet the Luby Clan.” Demanston said.
         “Well I guess this means I get his cookies, right?” Wilner said jokingly.
         A lot of raucous was coming from outside.  It sounded as if someone was fighting with a dog.  Then a blood-curdling scream echoed through the ears of every person in the village.

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         The city of Camelot was the capital city of Camelon.  Its buildings were some of the most beautiful buildings in all of Camelon.  Walls made of white alabaster that reflected the beauty of the sun, iron working so complex that magicians could swear it was made by magic, and glass made from the mythical land of Egyptonia.  Every building was a work of art.  At the back of the city stood the glorious and triumphant Sacha Castle.  The central tower could be seen from miles away, reflecting the sun as a beacon of freedom and power.  Its black and white granite gave the castle an aura of power, symbolizing both freedom and protection.
         A u-shaped mountain ridge surrounded Camelot, making it only accessible from the front.  This made the city very easy to defend from invading armies.  A unique defense happens when the sun hits the mountains just right, the most beautiful lullaby is heard, warding off evil for miles.  This lullaby is said to be the spirit of Arthur’s wife protecting her beloved people.
         The third Stuart of Camelon, Stuart Barmond, son of Adinon, had only ruled for 3 years, and was already losing power due to his playful manners.  The people were weary of him, the police would go behind his back, and his own family disliked him.  His greatest wish was to find the true king and give him back his throne. He truly despised having power, and was quite the opposite of his father.  His father had known how to rule, and was said to be more popular than the true king himself.
         “How old do you suppose the king has to be now, Karoz?” Barmond said in a sigh
         “I do not know your majesty.” Karoz said in a gentle but deep voice.
Karoz was the Stuarts general and controlled all the armed forces of the kingdom. He was young and short, with short spiked hair. He talked with a heavy accent, which came from his parent who where gypsy’s. Karoz had never seen a real battle and was always eager to find trouble. He wanted to prove that he could handle any situation.
         “How many times do I have to say not to call me by that title, I hate it.  Anyway, I don’t believe he’s still alive.  I believe it’s his son who is alive now.”
         A man with two imperial guards came running in, breathing heavy, and trying to give a very important message.
         “What is the meaning of this?” Karoz proclaimed.
         “Another town’s been attacked by werewolves.  This time there were total casualties.  No one survived.” The man blurted this out as he gasped for air.
         In a pissed voice Karoz said “Well someone had to have survived.  How would you have gained the knowledge of the attack?”
         “Because I was the only surviv…”
         The man fell to the floor, dead before hitting the ground.  A large chunk of flesh was missing from his back with blood everywhere.
         Karoz turned to the two imperial guards and asked what town this poor man had come from.
         “He said he came from Ferfield, sir.  It is two days away, but he flew here on a griff, which explains why he was still alive when he got here, Sir.”
         “What is the closest town to Ferfield?  We need to warn them immediately.”
         “The closest town sir is Tafilin.  I shall send them an owl distress message.”
         “No, use the crystal ball.  Owls are too slow.”
         Karoz turned to the Stuart, trying not to sound too harsh.
         “Your Majesty, you better do something about these raids or everyone will think you are a coward for not confronting the problem.”
         “You shall hold your tongue and speak no more.  I know what I have to do.  Go and assemble a squad to investigate, track down, and kill the werewolves.  Leave none alive.”
         “Yes, my lord.  I apologize and shall do as you wish.”
         Barmond was beginning to fear he was going to have to talk to Abaddon about the raids.  Maybe he knew who was doing this.  Barmond feared and hated Abaddon with a passion, but if he had to do it then he had to, as his father always said, “Never fear your enemies, only fear your fear.” Barmond would do anything not to be Stuart of the crumbling Kingdom of Camelon.
         “Wait. Before you assemble your team, send a messenger to Abaddon with this message:


“I, Barmond, Stuart of the Kingdom of Camelon, ask for your help in                                                                                                                finding who is sending raid parties to the towns of Camelon.  I am willing to send
recourses to help you on your cause.  The Kingdom of Camelon would
greatly appreciate this from you and your people.

                                                                     Stuart Barmond of Camelon”                       
         
         “My lord, are you sure of this?  Why don’t you sent an owl message?  You’re endangering the life of that messenger.”
         “Not if you send an elemental.”
         An elemental was a creature, in human form, which was made of one of the five elements of earth; fire, water, earth, wind, and the most rare and powerful of all, love.  The elementals cannot die, per say, only be disassembled by magic.  The only one that can die is the love elemental, its death causing sadness to everyone that witnesses it.  The sadness is sometimes so deep and horrible that many take their life away, often using gruesome techniques.
         Barmond had just come up with a great plan.  If he sent a love elemental and Abaddon kills it, Abaddon just might kill himself.  He did not want to kill himself from the beginning so his curse would be lifted and he would die.  It was fail proof that is if Abaddon did decide to kill the elemental.  If he did help, then Barmond would start to believe that something was not right.



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         When Wilner opened the door, he was petrified at the sight that lay before him.  Blood was everywhere, flesh splattered up against the wall, and an enormous ferocious werewolf with blood all over his snout and his hands stood over what resembled Mr. Razi, or what was left of him.  Both his legs had been mangled and could never be used again, if he survived his other fatal wounds.  His torso had been ripped open at the stomach, revealing his insides, his face was almost unrecognizable, with blood all over it and deep slashes covering it.
         The werewolf was about to make his final blow when Wilner, in a rage and instinct, shot the werewolf with a silver blast from his wand.  The silver blast knocked the werewolf to the ground with a loud thud.  He roared in pain as the silver coursed through his body, dissolving everything it touched.  In a final cry the werewolf gargled, “The prophecy shall never be fulfilled.”  With that, a puddle of silver and blood replaced the spot where the werewolf had fallen.
         Wilner bolted to Mr. Razi’s aid, yelling the only spells he knew to heal.  They were no use; Mr. Razi had been too seriously wounded to do anything.  It was like trying to stop a breaking dam with a band-aid.  Wilner slid to Mr. Razi and picked up his head.
         “It’s going to be ok, I’m not going to let you die…” tears muffled Wilner’s speech.
         Angy and Demanston ran towards them crying for help.
         “Hold on Mr. Razi, help’s on the way…don’t you die on us!”  Demanston tried to inflict optimism in his voice.
         Wilner couldn’t stop crying, trying to remember every thing he knew of magic, to see if there wasn’t anything he could do to stop the bleeding.  Blood was going everywhere, mixing with the dirt and making a slushy solution.  In all the commotion, Mr. Razi was staying entirely calm.  He knew he was dying and he was relieved.  He could finally tell the secret he had been holding in his heart most of his.
         “It’s ok…don’t worry about me.  The only thing I ask of you now is to promise me something Wilner…promise me you will go to Camelot and give this to Lord Copernicus…promise me you will go…” Mr. Razi’s voice was gargled and raspy.
         “I promise, even if I have to die.  I will go, but please don’t die, don’t leave me!”
         “I will never leave you, I will always be in your heart.  Now take this, do as I told you.”
         Mr. Razi handed a folded up paper to Wilner.  As soon as Wilner’s trembling hands grasped the paper, Mr. Razi’s body went limp.  A long exhale came from his mouth, giving the final sign he was gone.
         In a matter of minutes Wilner’s life had collapsed.  His closest friend and father figure had been taken away from him for reasons he did not know.  A crowd of people started to form, all asking what had happened, but Wilner did not notice.  All he heard in his head was, “I promise, I promise, I promise…”
 
Chapter 2

Love’s in the Air

         The love elemental Amora had been flying on her griffen Fluffery for three days, heading towards Zocarh.  Fluffery was beginning to feel the evils of the land and desperately wanted to rest.
         “It’s ok baby.  We are almost there.  Just a few more miles and mommy will let you rest all you want.” Amora said sensing that Fluffery was getting tired.
         Amora could see the Black Castle of Zocarh in the distance.  The area around the city was a desolate waste land, with dried up trees covering the dust and dirt of the ground.  The Black Castle absorbed all the light that shone, making it appear as a darkness from which nothing returned.  The castle was made from the volcanic rock that littered the land to the north of Zocarh, at the base of the volcanic mountain.  Amora wondered how any creature, good or evil, could live in such harsh conditions.
         Suddenly a red flare shot up from the tallest tower of the castle.  This was a warning shot, warning Amora that she was getting too close to the city.  Amora wondered if they had received word that she was coming.  Did Karoz forget to tell them?  Amora could now see the city’s defense tower aim their large arrow launchers at her.  She started to feel the heat of nervousness, and sweat began to flow down her face.  The arrows were being cocked back.  All that was needed was for another red warning shot to be fired.  Her heart began to beat faster and faster, threatening to jump out of her body.  Another red flare shot up and Amora blinked her eyes.  All she thought of was the life she had lived and all she loved.  The stuart had warned her that she might die, but she never thought it would be this way.  It seemed like an eternity before she opened up her eyes, surprised that she still had not heard the launchers release their massive arrows.  The flare had exploded and turned green, giving her passage to the city and castle.
         As Amora flew over the houses, she could see the dirty people looking up at her.  Many looked as if they had never taken a bath.  Perhaps they hadn’t.  Water was too precious of a resource to waste on baths in Nolava.
         Fluffery stopped flapping his wings, gliding to the entrance of the castle.  He gave a few powerful beats with his golden wings, hovering, descending slowly to the ground.  Dust clouded Amora’s vision for several seconds. She jumped down, still squinting through the clouds.  A figure she could not fully make out stood in front of her.  The figure, with a wand in hand, shouted “Tera Parajio!”  The dust instantly fell to the ground, exposing the man in front of Amora and the 30 guards that surrounded her with spears at arms.  Amora had to squint her eyes, waiting for her stunning purple eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness.  The man in front of her had long straight brown hair but was bald from the forehead to the crown of the head.  His large pointed nose protruded from a face cut by wrinkles.
         “Hello, miss.  I am Captain Niniar.  I shall escort you to Abaddon momentarily, but first give me any weapons you have.”
         Amora knew that her only line of defense was the elaborate dagger that was tucked in her white boots.  If she wanted to talk to Abaddon she had to give it up.  If worse came to worse she could use her physical strength to defend herself.  Elementals posses the strength of two giants, but rarely use it.
         Handing the dagger to the captain, “This is all I have.  If you don’t believe me then you can go to hell.”
         “Oh, I believe you.  That’s all you elementals carry to protect yourself.  What element are you anyways?”
         “That is for me to know and you to never find out.”
         Amora always got irritated when people asked her what elemental she was.  She got angry not for telling them but for the fact that people knew what she was, they just wanted her to tell them.  It was obvious she was a love elemental, with snow white long hair, pale shiny skin, all white clothing, and violet eyes that caught everyone’s attention.  Her face was perfect, with no flaws at all.  Her clothing was fairly seductive, a skin-tight, low cut top and tight pants, making every man want her. 
         “I am sorry, that was rude of me.  Please follow me.”


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         It had been three days since Mr. Razi had been brutally murdered by a werewolf.  Wilner hadn’t come out of his room since the murder, wondering if he could have done something to save Mr. Razi.  He could only look at the letter and repeat Mr.Razis’ words.
         “What the hell does this stupid letter say?!  What language is this?”
         The letter was written in old elvish.  Wilner had never seen elvish before, so he had no idea how to read it.  He finally got fed up with just staring at the letter and went to his godmother for help.
         “Well it’s good to see you my boy.  I was seriously beginning to believe you would never come out of your room.  Could I make you something?”  Angy said, happy to see Wilner was out of his room.
         “No thanks Angy.  I have a question.”
         “I may have an answer.”
         “Have you ever seen this language before?”  Wilner handed Angy the letter.  At the site of the letters on the page, she dropped her cup of tea on the floor.  It had been 37 years since she last had seen those characters on the paper.
         “My Lord, where did you get this?”  Angy’s voice was trembling.
         “Mr. Razi gave it to me before he died.  Why?”
         “That looks just like the letter your godfather had.”
         “So this is old elvish.  Can you read it?”  Wilner had excitement in his voice.
         “No, but I believe your godfather has something in his study that may help you.”
         “That room hasn’t been opened in 2 years.  Besides it’s locked and there’s no way in.  I’ve tried every spell I know to open that door.  It also has a curse on it.  I could tell because with every spell I used a green light formed around the door.”
         “Have you tried the key?”  Angy questioned.
         “What key?  If I had known about a key I would have used it by now.”  Wilner began to get agitated.
         “Not all keys look the same.”  Angy said while pointing to Wilner’s chest.
         “What?  My necklace?”  Wilner said puzzled.
         “No, the medallion.  That was your godfather’s spare key.  He always was afraid he would lose his and forget where the spare was.  He gave it to you to always remind him where the spare was.”
         “Why didn’t he ever tell me this?”
         “Because he believed that when the time was right you would find out what the medallion would be for.”
         “Well, I guess I’ll go to his study to look for some help.” 
         Wilner walked to the large oak door that separated him from his godfather’s study.  The handle was intricately decorated with dragons, all with their claws holding the door.  Just below it was a depression in the shape of Wilner’s medallion.  He took off his necklace and placed the medallion into place.  The sound of metal clanking and wheels moving emitted from the door.  Suddenly the door swung outward, knocking Wilner to the floor.  Wilner slowly got up and could not believe what he saw.  He had never seen anything like it.   


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It had only been a minute since Amora and the captain had left Fluffery when they could hear him screaming.  They turned around, only to see the griffin on its hind legs trying to claw down the men with spears around it.  Amora immediately ran to the Fluffery screaming in horror “STOP!”.  Niniar knew he had to do something.  He ran after Amora and when he got close enough he shot with his wand the closest guard to him.  The blast hit the guard in the back making him go limp and fall to the floor.
         “If anyone harms this lady’s griffin I will personally rip your arm off and beat you with it until you die.”  Niniar was not kidding.  All the guards put down their spears and stepped back from the griffin.  Amora ran to the griffin and put her hands on its head, stroking it to calm it down.
         “It’s ok now baby.  The horrible mean men won’t get you now.  Ssshhh…it’s ok.  Mommy won’t let anything happen to you.”  Amora turned her head to Niniar.
         “Is there any safe place my baby can go and rest?”
         “Yes there is.”  Niniar pointed to a short guard who looked scared beyond belief.
         “You…take this griffin to the stable and make sure it gets water and food.  If anything happens to it, I’ll feed you to the dragons.  Got it?” 
         Petrified the guard said, “Ya…ya…yes, sir.”
         “My lady, please come with me.  I promise nothing will happen to your griffin.”  Niniar motioned with his hand to follow him.
         They walked through various gloomy hallways until they reached two large redwood doors.  Before Niniar opened the doors, Amora whispered,
         “I really appreciate what you did back there.  It was very kind…in a strange way.”
         Amora could always feel when a man wanted her, but from Niniar she felt a different aura.  It was actual love, not lust she felt from him.  It was the first man she ever felt that from.  She was also feeling a strange attraction to Niniar.
         “I was just helping a beautiful lady.” 
         Niniar could actually see rosy color in Amora’s cheeks.  He opened the massive door and showed Amora in.  The room was enormous.  The ceiling was over 75 feet tall with three silver chandeliers dangling from it.  Long windows covered both walls, depicting scenes from some sort of battle.  The floor was made of white granite, the center covered with a long red carpet that led to five stairs and a large wooden arm chair at the top.  In the chair sat a man with a golden crown on his head.  “This must be Abaddon.”  Amora thought.  Niniar walked in front of her and said,
         “My Lord, the messenger from Camelon has arrived.”
         Abaddon starred at Amora, chuckling at her sight.
         “So Barmond sent me a love elemental.  How nice.  So I guess I can’t kill you as I had hoped on doing.  Oh well.  So what is it that the ruler of the great Kingdom of Camelon wants from me, ruler of such a barren and desolate land?”  Abaddon had sarcasm in his voice.
         “My Stuart has asked for your help on a situation.  He wishes to know if you know anything about the werewolves that have crossed over into our kingdom.”
         “Well, I have heard of such rumors but I have nothing to do with it, if that’s what you mean.  Why would I do such things?”
         “Well, do you know who could be doing this?”
         A minotaur walked up next to Abaddon and said without realizing Amora’s presence,
         “My Lord, the trolls gave us their answer.  They will join in on your plan and the werewolves have told me that they have killed the last member of the          group.  They also killed everyone in the town Fairfield.”
         Abaddon rubbed his head, trying to suppress his rage.
         “Larsin, why don’t you say hello to our guest from Camelon?”  Abaddon spoke with his teeth closed and rage in his voice.
         Larsin turned to look at Amora, who had tears coming down her face.  She couldn’t believe that the werewolves had killed everyone in a whole city.  All those innocent people.
         Great embarrassment filled Larsin and he knelt down next to Abaddon and asked for forgiveness.
         “I’m so sorry sir.  I did not mean to do that.  I apologize a thousand times.”
         “It’s ok.  I guess I just have to kill our guest.  Change of plans sweet heart.”
         Abaddon pulled a dagger out from the chair and threw it at Amora.  At that very moment Niniar pointed his wand at Amora and yelled a spell “Deflectos Bariom”.  The dagger crashed against a blue shield that had formed in front of Amora.  The dagger ricocheted back and hit Larsin in the leg.  Larsin blurted out a deep yell.
         “What is the meaning of this Captain Niniar?”  Abaddon was very puzzled.
         “My Lord, I do not believe it is a good idea to kill her.  I believe we should just keep her captive for now and use her against Camelon when the time is right.”
         “That’s a good idea.  Take her to the dungeon and make her feel at home.”
         Niniar gently grabbed Amora’s arm and directed her to the door.  After they left the room Niniar let go of Amora and said, “I’m sorry for that.  Don’t worry, you’re not going to the dungeon.  I’ll make sure you leave this place safely.”
         “Thank you so much.”  She turned towards him and kissed him on the lips.  This action stunned Niniar for a second, but he quickly composed himself and led Amora out of the castle.





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         News of the murders at Fairfield swept through Camelot like wild fire.  People began to buy all the silver arrows they could find in desperation. Some bought books that contained spells on how to kill werewolves.  It was complete pandemonium; the city was on the verge of total collapse.
         Barmond’s stress level was to its max.  He ordered a 24/7 watch for the werewolves and for any thieves that might take advantage of chaos.  Barmond had made many public speeches assuring people that they were safe, but the people just wouldn’t listen.  If Abaddon was behind his, Barmond would send the military to get rid of him once and for all. 
         “Sir, we have not received word from Amora.  I know it’s too soon, but still she always sends a message.” Martimir said, Barmond’s right hand man.
         With a worried look Barmond asked,
         “Has there been word of the werewolf clan anywhere else?”
         “No sir, but I’m sure Karoz will find them.”
         “I only hope so.  I want this chaos to end.  I hate this life.”


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    Wilner’s eyes widened with joy as he saw the skeleton of a giant dragon.
Its bone white color glistened as it reflected the light from the tall stained glass windows. Millions of books filled the enormous shelves on the walls. The shelves continued up all the way to the ceiling, which was hard to see due to how high it was and to sunlight that flooded the room. A mammoth table with vials, flasks, scales, papers, and other tools littered the top. A ladder with wheels leaned up against the shelves, climbing to the tops of the shelves.
    “This is impossible. How could the room be so tall? There must be some sort of enchantment”
    Wilner had heard of such things from Mr. Razi. Buildings that seemed too small and cramped to be in, when entered were some of the largest and tallest rooms in the world.
      Wilner staggered to the table, still awestruck by sheer size of the room. Dust covered everything on the table, making it hard to read any of the papers. He slowly picked up the paper closet to the edge, trying not to disturb the other papers. The paper had the same characters as that of his letter. After studying it, he put it back and began to search the millions of books on the shelves to see of he could find a translator. While looking at titles like “Alchemist Guide, Dragonology, Shrubbery of Magic, and History of Camelon” he found a folded up map of all of Camelon. He opened it up and looked at its intricate penmanship. He saw the city of Camelot and instantly remembered that he had to go to Camelot to give the letter to the Stuart. He folded the map back up and shoved it into his back pocket. He kept climbing till he reached the top. There he found, in between “Faith” and “Hope”, a book that immediately caught his eye. It looked just like the book his godmother had described to him. As he went to grab the book to see if the letter was still inside, he suddenly started to remember something his godfather had told him when he was a small child
    “Everything has a purpose. The rain falls to feed tree, the bees sting to protect their nest, and people die to give room for others to take their place. When I die you will take my place in this world. You will own all that is mine to help this world become a better place. But always remember, the book of life has many pages, but only seventy-seven count.”
    “Holy Crap!!!” blasted from below.
  Wilner was thrown back to the present, loosing his grip on the ladder. As he fell, he tried to grab the bookshelf to regain his balance, but missed the shelf and grabbed his godfathers book. He plummeted toward the ground, screaming, trying to remember all the levitating spells he knew. Only if he remember what Mr. Razi would say when he wanted to levitate. All Wilner’s racing mind could remember was one lousy spell. Hoping it was the right one Wilner shouted
      “Bahin Rapedin!”
  Wilner increased in velocity, falling three times faster than before. Wilner then realized it was the spell to make thing fall faster. At this speed Wilner would sustain tremendous damage, more than likely he would die. He whizzed by the dragon skeleton, barely missing its sharp wing edge.
      “Momentos Parerdium!!!”
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As Abaddon looked over the balcony onto the front yard of the castle, he felt this funny feeling at the bottom of his gut. Had he made the right decision in letting Niniar take the love elemental to the dungeon? Love elementals were known for seducing men to get out of situations. Maybe he should have sent some guards with Niniar.
    “My Lord, I do not trust Niniar. I stopped trusting him after the murder of Greg.” Larsin said still in pain from the dagger wound he sustained earlier.
      “Niniar will do as he has been told. Besides what is he going to do? If he lets the elemental go, he knows he will be put to death.”
  Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, Abaddon saw two figures walking up to a griffen. One of the figures was in a brown cloak, but the other looked very familiar. It was a little too far to make out who it was. Then he realized who the two figures were.
      “STOP THOSE TWO CRIMINALS!!!” Abaddon’s voice reverberated down to the guards in the yard.

  With lighting speed Amora jumped on to Fluffery, taking her brown cloak off. All the guards began to run in her direction, spears and swords ready for the kill. Niniar knew Amora could never get out of the city without his help. Being the captain of the guards, he knew every weapons device used to stop fleeing criminals. If he helped her escape he would be put to death, if he didn’t help her, he still would be put to death for helping her get this far. He had nothing to lose, either way he was going to die. He turned around and threw his wand to her.
    “ I’ll help you get into the air, after that fly north, as soon as you see the large tower yell “Avis Introchmint” while pointing the wand at the tower. That should disable all defenses and give you enough time to escape.”
    “What about you, they’re going to kill you” Amora said realizing that Niniar was sacrificing himself for her.
    “I can handle myself. Now go, fly!”
  A sword from behind came down to strike him, but he thrusted his sword backwards into to the guard, still facing Amora.
      “Go. Now!”
  Amora pulled on Fluffery’s feathers, launching her into the air, as the griffen beat his powerful wings. As she lifted up she saw Niniar taking out every guard that came to him. Niniar was an excellent swordsman, even able to deflect arrows that were shot at him with his rapier. Amora reached the level of the castle where Abaddon was. She could see the burning rage in his eyes.
    “Kill him!” Abaddon screamed in fury.
Fifty archers turned their arrows in Niniar’s direction. In a quick decision, Amora directed Fluffery to fly up to the archers, which were on the level just below Abaddon. Fluffery knew what he was supposed to do. He flew parallel to the archers a stuck his talons out. The claws slashed into the arms of every archer as the griffen passed by. Archer after archer fell to the floor with agonizing pain rushing through their mangled arm. Their bones shattered on impact as the powerful talons of the griffen hit their arm.
      Amora knew Niniar was going to die if she didn’t save him. She tugged on Fluffery’s feathers again, making him dive bomb towards Niniar. Guards trying to kill him surrounded Niniar. Out of nowhere a black arrow hurled towards Niniar’s heart. He tried to block it but was too slow and deflected it up, hitting him just below the collar. A burning sensation jetted into his arm, paralyzing it. He looked up towards the castle and saw Larsin holding his bow, staring at him. Niniar started to loose his vision, blackness consuming his sight. He felt himself drifting away…