FSE

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The earth was parched and the air hot. Aren swiped the hair from his eyes. Moisture latched on his dried palm, and a sigh escaped him.

"Not long now, is it?"

Sun approved with a snort and picked her pace. Desert flies buzzed around her head, making her ears twitch constantly. Aren whipped one of his swords and slashed at the pests. The flies whirled and fled around the blade, only to return shortly after

"Pah." The sun bore down relentlessly upon the rider and his mount, robbing moisture out of everything. The grass was dried and lifeless like the soil it sprouted from. What vegetation grew here was same as the sun: selfish and angry. Thorns grew out of every plant taller than a blade of grass. Aren leaned forward, burying his head on Sun's thick mane. She smelled like rich soil after a rain.

"Tell me when," Aren said, rubbing the mare tense muscles. Sun whinnied. The thunder of her hooves felt strangely calm to Aren's ears. It overlapped the council's words that still rang in his ears. It came along with all the hopelessness, the anger, and the disappointment he felt that day. Aren hated many things, but never his own people. Not until they banished him to the realm of men. Travel like the wind, they said. Air pays no mind where it goes. Explore, they preached. As we have since the dawn of time. Learn, they urged. Stalkers study their prey. Learn from their habits, and from their way of leaving. Learn everything, and one day they might accept you in their pack.

Aren's breathing quickened. He jumped from Sun's back, rolling on the tough soil. Swords left their sheath, cutting the air with the swiftness of a storm. He cut Emron from shoulder to waist. The bastard smiled, hand scratching that wolf of his. He talked about unity throughout the war, and now he sent every elf away from his pack.

Aren spun, taking the head of Lynuel. The Stargazer matriarch had a deep frown on her face. The barren whore appeared to be thinking, but Aren knew her thoughts. Stags were prey. They fled first and thought later.

"We are no longer the shadows of forest, my followers. The trees were burned, leaves turned to ashes, our shelters exposed by the human trackers. Prey cannot fight predator. Such was never meant," she said, bowing her head before the thousands of elves gathered before her. No one said a word. No one.

"This day is a burden upon our race."

Aren looked to the side. Renoren'tharas's hair flew in the wind. He sat proudly atop his broadleaf mount, a striking male with mane of fire and eyes greener than aged leaves, but he did not appear proud. His eyebrows twitched under the weight pressing down upon them, and words passed heavily from earth-bound lips.

Aren't chest tightened. He felt Renoren's guilt as his. He felt the pain, and the agony, and the hopelessness of defeat pouring along with the riptide of words.

"Fire blazed in the sky, brightening it. Shadows fled from its reach, and clouds parted in reverence. Yet signs are treacherous. Nature favors no beast. Cradles no creature at its bosom. As prey falls to predator, so does predator fall before a greater might."

Aren's fingers felt numb on the sword's handle.

"Liar!" he slashed at Renoren. "Treacherous slime. You were our leader!" a scream, then a downward thrust that cut through both elf and mount. "You," Aren slashed again."Were better," another slash followed.

"Than them!" the sword flashed in the evening light, cutting and whirling and flying through the air. And Renoren'tharas, crowned leader of the elves and lord of the Broadleaf clan still spoke.

"The humans conquered us. Their might is greater than that of any Shadowcat. Wit allows them to craft and build. Greed forces them to pillage and burn. And numbers make them more fearsome than any pack. They will swarm the land, burn it, deplete it until their darkness swallows the night itself."

"If we fight, we'll lose more than our lands. All of us will perish, and the lands that nurtured us will be at man's mercy. That's why we need to lay down arms. Conceding is not weakness. It is a sign of greater wit. We will roam their lands, learn from them, eat with them."

"And when our numbers will grow, we will fall upon them as they did upon us!"

The crowd of elves cheered and shouted and growled until all voices mixed into a fearsome roar. Fools. Dim witted rats, all of them. How could they not see? How couldn't they? Aren leaned forward, swords ready. The elves barely acknowledged his presence. They chanted and shouted, basking in their leader's wisdom.

Aren leaped into action. He pushed himself forward, cutting through the crowd with deceitful ease.

"They'll subdue us!" he cut and twisted his right arm, while the left danced cut through ephemeral flesh.

"Make us their pets!" Two elders nodded in approval. Aren stopped, only to see the edge of their yellowed teeth. Laughing? Were they laughing? He descended upon them in a storm of swords.

"This isn't retribution. Not if we surrender." No reply. Aren cut and slashed until he was on the brink of exhaustion. His silver hair flew as he ducked, severing the torso of a high hunter.

"Prey never surrenders. That means death!" he rose. "Isn't that right, hunter?" The elf's icy eyes remained impassive. Aren growled and severed his hands with two quick slashes, then spun and took his head.

"We fought and died. For what?" he gasped for air. "For what?!"

Aren dropped to one knee. His heart pounded furiously, and his throat begged for moisture. He took a deep breath and swallowed to ease the sting in his neck. Aren blinked. The long grass bowed and rippled in the wind. Insects stirred below the dried grasses, adding their own din to the song of the wind. Aren blinked again. Renoren wasn't here. No one was.

A whinny had him peeking over a shoulder.

"I've become jagged, didn't I?" He caressed the mare's snout. A sword found its sheath, but the other loomed before Aren's eyes. The metal sprouted tiny rifts along the edge. The clash of steel chipped the edge, but the blade still hungered for purpose. "War spares no one. Not even those who survive."

Sun snorted and pushed her head into Aren's chest. The elf sighed as his hands went around the mare's head. The warmth of the life pulsing within her and the scent of dried sunleaves offered needed comfort. Aren pulled away and kissed the mare between her sea-colored eyes. The mare whinnied softly.

"Gratitude," the elf whispered, scratching below the creamy mane of her neck. "You care for me more than I deserve." Aren sighed. "Warriors are taught to control their feelings, yet I..."

Sun interrupted him with an impatient snort. Aren chuckled, despite the churning anger boiling within. "You're right again."

Sun touched the ground with her belly and arched her neck towards the supply pouches dangling at her side. The puckered water skin found its way in Aren's hand. He drank two mouthfuls, and offered the rest to his mare. "Barely enough for another day. We should hasten pace." Sun's ears twitched as the mare whickered her approval.

Aren hopped on her back. The mare rose on her fours and walked at a trot, gradually building speed. Dried earth coughed below her hooves, and insects fled their shelter. The grasses were endless until late dusk, when the blurry edge of a forest stood defiantly against the setting sun.

Aren shivered as a cold gust drained the heat from his exposed chest. He reached back and grabbed the barkskin vest. "Koran's tooth lies that way," he pointed with his left hand. "Tall mountains, former home of Greypine pack. I think I told you what happened to them."

Sun turned her head around, ears flicking.

"I didn't?" She snorted and shook her head.

Aren smiled. "I did. Find another way to deceive me, shard of--ow!" The tail slap hurt even through the breeches. Aren kicked his legs forward, but Sun was already rearing. Finding no source of balance, Aren's back met the arid soil.

"Ghah!" he groaned. Sun turned around, whinnying defiantly. "You still don't know how to twist the tongue, my half." Aren picked himself up. Sun turned around and lowered her head, nuzzling Aren's shoulder.

"You are a stubborn thing," the elf said and picked himself up. If only he could. Sun lowered herself on the ground. Aren smiled and adjusted his position. He propped a hand on the dried soil while the other caressed Sun's jaw. The mare placed her head on Aren's lap and exhaled. The warm gust of her breath soaked through the barkskin vest, sending shivers across Aren's skin.

"Sun of mine," Aren said, stroking the mare between her eyes. "We need water. Food. The forest is not far. We can rest by the bank of a stream, as we often did..." the words turned to a whisper.

Sun nudged Aren's chest, whinnying softly. The sky bruised to a deep purple behind the forest, where a pack of scattered clouds sailed on a flaming sky. Aren exhaled and lowered himself over Sun's neck, where her pale mane mixed with the silver locks of his hair. Only now he realized how tired he was. His spine ached from the extended riding. The legs didn't fare any better, and lack of water caused his lips to crack.

"Can't stay," Aren pushed himself up. "You'll rest later." Sun snorted in annoyance, but a hand on her nostrils had her silenced. "You know I'm right this time."

They rode towards the forest. Darkness cloaked the sky when Aren stepped into the light of the smoldering coals.

"Who goes?" came a whisper.

Aren licked his lips, "kin."

"K-kin, eh?" the cutter planted his axe on the ground. "What do you want then, kin?"

Aren took a step forward. "Knowledge of your purpose. These trees," he looked over his shoulder. Darkness did little to hide the damage. Stumps jutted out of the earth in uneven patterns. "Were you the one to cut them?"

"Happens that I am," the elf brushed the coarse hair from his eyes. "What does that have to do with you?"

"Everything. We're kin. Part of the same pack!"

The elf chuckled and lifted his axe. The edge reflected light as it rose above the tongues of flame. "Pack? Where is this pack?" He looked around, laughing. "I only see wood and the coin it is going to bring."

Aren clenched his teeth. "Your eyes need adjustment."

"They see fine," the elf turned around and walked towards a tree. Several cuts dug deep into the pale wood. "Need no," the axe whipped through the wind and bit into the wood. "grass eater," he hit again, "to open them."

"Stop that."

A thud. Then another. And another.

"Stop!"

THUD.

The sword hissed in its sheath as Aren drew it. A growl came from nearby. Aren leaped to the side. The cat's paws clawed the air as its chain rattled furiously.

"Vengeance doesn't like you. I don't like you either."

Aren was on his feet in a heartbeat, sword pointing towards the approaching woodcutter. "You tied your companion? Your shard?!"

"He killed Destor's brother."

"Who in wind's name is Destor?" Aren snarled.

"Patron's brother."

"You chain your companion for killing human filth?"

"That filth sees me fed. Provides shelter. Keeps me safe," the elf spat as he placed the axe on his shoulder. "Unlike that pack of yours."

"Ours. We vowed to--"

"I said no words."

"Your leader did!"

"Yes," the elf said. "when he started this senseless war. I'd rather serve humans than flee from their wrath."

"Humans are not your concern now," Aren growled. "I am." He ran towards the woodcutter. Axe held high, he slashed at Aren's neck. Aren crouched under the blow and thrust his sword forward. A gurgled wail erupted from the cutter's throat as the sword dug into his chest.

Aren wrenched his blade free and turned around. The cat looked into at him, its amber eyes blazing in the firelight. Suffering sparkled within them. The days of captivity and malnourishment spent on the whims of a misguided elf.

"Earth blesses you," Aren said, and pushed the elf's towards the cat's tree. The great feline smelled the blood, licked it, then tore into the dead elf. Blood shimmered in the dying light. Aren sighed and left the cat to its fate. Starchasers were fierce predators, but the risk of freeing it far outweighed the reward. Aren's throat tightened. The image of Sun being chased passed through his mind.

"Never," he whispered, and disappeared into the darkness of the trees.

When Sun met him at the forest's edge, Aren knew what to do. He wrapped his arms around the mare's neck in a fierce hug. He couldn't lose her, like that fool lost his cat. Elf and beast were never supposed to be parted.

"I will never--never bind your freedom," a cough escaped Aren's throat. His chest felt heavy, and his eyes watered. Was he crying? The elf sniffed and pulled away. He couldn't allow emotions to run rampant and cloud his judgment. Not now, when the sun itself revealed concealed purpose.

"We ride into the human lands," Aren said sternly, eyebrows locked under the weight of hatred. "The council advised us well. It is past time we send the human pack into chaos."

Sun looked back when Aren jumped upon her. With a snort and a dip of her head, she voiced her agreement. The moon offered just enough light to make out the shape of the land. Aren patted the mare's neck, and the two disappeared into the thickness of the trees.

The moon renewed each of its cycles when Aren stood outside the human settlement of Endoren. Or a month, as humans said. Their stench traveled past the wooden wall of their crude wooden shelters. Aren still had to get used to it. He had to get used to how these creatures lived. Humans were different from elves as boar from cat.

Aren looked at the small settlement and muttered an elvish curse between his lips when cold water touched his bare hand. Rain? The day has been dark since morning, and a chilly wind conquered the land. It sent shivers through both rider and mount. Sun whickered impatiently and darted towards the settlement.

The wall leaned forward in certain places. In others, it simply vanished. Clearly the human whelps posted outside the gates had no problem with the crack, or with the worn wood.

Or with Aren. They allowed him to pass unrestrained, unlike most of their kind. Aren smiled and looked around him. Dwellings sprouted on either side, with small differences in size and shapes. Horse droppings. That was what the brown color resembled. Tatched roof, worn wood, and no living gardens blooming around them. The only path was a muddy serpent slithering between the settlements.

"We'll have to find those...things." Sun dipped her head and took upon a smaller path. "Stables. Place where they keep horses, to avoid--"

Sun snorted and quickened her trot. Broadleaves were fascinating creatures. Bright as their manes and warm tempered as their coats. Aren smiled. She looked nothing like those ugly creatures called horses. Sun was lighter, faster, and better than any of those mongrels had the right to be.

And she needed to lie in their reek. Alone. During the peak of her reproduction cycle. The thought made Aren's stomach churn, yet there was no way out. A single slip would enflame suspicion. Suspicion attracted guards, which in turn attracted attention. Aren couldn't afford such delays. Each passing day strengthened the fetters human had on his race.

The thought of blood and battle forced his lips into a smile. He knew how to take lives, not living among those he killed. Sun took another turn and trotted to a tall structure. Inn, the humans called it. The reek and the clamor of men overwhelmed Aren's senses.

"Goddess warm your night," a voice said. Aren barely heard it when he dropped from the saddle.

"Goddess warm your--"

"I have no wish to bed her," Aren left the beggar behind, deaf to the teary pleas. The stables were just ahead, and rain fell heavy on both man and mare. Aren wiped the water from his eyes. Several horses were lined below a dozen of wooden planks. They had hay and water, but the lack of space bred savage scents. Those creatures slept in their own droppings!

Aren cringed. He prepared to turn around when Sun nuzzled into his shoulder. She looked towards an empty place and took the lead. Aren's jaw became tense. He couldn't allow her to--

A weight pressed down on Aren's shoulder. The elf gripped it and turned around. A yell came from behind turned around.

"Ey, my hand!"

"Never do that," Aren released him. "Are you the keeper?"

He nodded. "Course I am. Who could I be, the king?"

"Then see to my mount!"

"I--I will if you let go!" The man grumbled and extended a dirty palm. "Twenty silvers for one night, thirty for two or more."

Aren's fingers scrambled for his waist pouch. "One night," he said, dripping the wooden chips in the man's expecting hand. He immediately dropped his head, scrutinizing the bits of waxed Thronwood.

"This is elf coin. I don't take wood."

"It's worth more. Sell it to one of your trader."

"Mhmgh. As you say," the man grumbled and nodded his bearded head. "I'll take it."

"Are your males tied?"

"Course," the groom nodded. "Can't have them run without their owners."

"See that they remain that way."

Aren helped Sun to her place and laid a comforting hand on her neck.

"We sacrificed more during the war," Aren whispered. "A night is nothing compared to that. Is it?"

Sun whinnied and shook her head.

Aren turned around and entered the inn. The air was heavy with talk, drink and spices. Human craft, all of it. Aren passed between the tables. Several pair of eyes turned in his direction. Mouths cursed his passing and a hand swung over the table. The brutal force pushed the liquid towards the mug's wide mouth.

Aren shielded his eyes. Cold liquid entered his nose and mouth. He swiped the pungent liquid off his face and pursed his lips. The mead tasted bitter, like his feelings towards the tavern's occupants. The man laughed. He was an ugly thing, with coarse hair that covered most of his face. Drops spilled between cracked teeth as breath left the man, thunderous and ragged.

"Smell like woman."

"Looks like one too. Pretty."

"Brin' t'lady here."

Something grabbed his flank. Aren broke himself away from the drunks and ran towards the owner. He couldn't trust to keep his anger in check.

The innkeeper was a graying man of generous girth, a gift complemented by the absence of hair. He summoned three mugs, serving a boy and his companions. The youth thanked him and went to the beard's table. A hand went around his throat, freeing the scream within. The tavern burst into laughter.

"Wha'ya want?" The keeper propped a fat hand on the upturned log that served as a longtable.

"Food, drink, and a bed to sleep in," Aren reproduced the words said by a drunk he heard a day ago.

The innkeeper studied the coins. He frowned. "This elf coin," he pushed the mound away. "I only take metal, elf," he spat the last word.

A frown crossed Aren's face. His blood ran hotter than he wanted. Murderous thoughts entered his mind. The innkeeper, with a sword through his chest, and tables painted with blood.

"You won't like my other offer," Aren hissed. "Take what I give."

"Give what? Words?" The man spat in his hand and rubbed his beard. "Have enough of those. See coin revealed or yourself out of my inn."

Stubborn as a human was an elven saying.

"I'm a veteran of the Kingdomwar. Is this proof enough for you?" Aren summoned an emerald brooch from the deepest reaches of his pouch. A cornered leaf pierced by four swords, reminding of the truce. The king himself said--

"Take your trinkets elsewhere," the fat man barked. Several drops of saliva introduced themselves to Aren's cheeks.

Aren's jaw tensed. Gestures such as this stirred his blood. "It was given to me by the king. Do you know what--"

"No," the innkeeper slammed the wood. "I piss on your king, shit on mine, and curse both. None bring coin here. See yourself away before I smash your pretty face."

Aren unsheathed one of his swords. The innkeeper flinched, stepping back with one leg.

"How much does this worth?" The table rang with the weight of steel.

Words and bargains saw him inside a bed. Sweat covered his skin, a remnant of the boiling anger that previously resided within. The walls were covered with cuts, and a chair reduced to splinters. Fighting cleared the mind like nothing else.

After training until exhaustion, Aren embraced the bed. Furs covered his naked body, and several candles warmed the air. Aren blew them in turns. A candle for each victory. The first was Dragonwing. Swarms of humans invaded the shore, testing shields against elven arrows. Aren clenched his hand. He still ached for the hornbow's grip. He was poor with the bow, but one needed no aim when a sea of humans washed forth.

"Fools," a calm breath extinguished the flame.

Aren watched the trails of smoke. It filled the air when he and a hundred other elven stalkers torched the ripe fields of Elandor, the human's breeding ground for bread. Humans lost their food and lives that day, starved within the wooden walls of their very city.

The third candle reminded him of a skirmish. He remembered walls too. Probably a siege. Aren blew the candle and eyed the last two. Twin candles, twin battles. The elves attacked both the king's seat and the human's greatest den, securing a single victory. The king fell, only to be replaced by another.

"A costly mistake," Aren whispered. He still remembered how the humans took the fight back into the elven lands. They swarmed the plains and the forests, desecrating them with blood and ash. Scattered and unprepared, the elves fell before the human onslaught.

Aren blinked a few times, then fell onto the tough leather mattress and embraced the straw filled pillow. Defeat tasted sour even after two years. If the packs weren't so spread, maybe--

A sigh escaped his lips. Past battles couldn't be altered, just as the sun couldn't be kept in the sky. With that thought in mind, Aren closed his eyes and thought of nothingness.

The elf woke several times between dreams. Random as they were, dreams always ended with blood and screams.

Aren snuck a hand and found his member hard. It throbbed. The last images were of Sun. Aren gasped. He couldn't stop thinking of her flowing mane, rippling from neck to tail, her hooves thundering across the plains. Her swollen sex, parting with desire...

Aren grunted and pushed into the furs. A jolt of pleasure raced from the tip of his engorged member. He gritted his teeth and thrust again. He relieved Sun of her heat three days ago, in the grass. The warmth of her depth made him hard with desire. Sun's drenched lips fueled unquenched lust. Aren felt the pressure gathering in his loins. He couldn't endure another thrust. He had to....had to...

"Gah," the furs flew out of the bed. Aren raised and plunged a finger into the candle's flame. It lapped at his skin until it stung. The distraction withered the throbbing member, but not the arousal. When sleep refused to return, Aren dressed and climbed down the stairs.

Of the boisterous crowd, only a few drunkards remained. They paid no attention to anything but their tankard. Aren parted the wooden doors. Chill struck his flesh, spurring his muscles into shivers. Aren looked around. The road was deserted, same as the inn's surroundings.

Sun rested on her side when Aren entered the stables. She snorted and rose on her fours, pacing restlessly. Aren walked slowly. His eyes offered poor aid in the dim torchlight, and the horses were uneasy. Two stallions fidgeted in their stalls, agitating the mare in front of Aren. The elf leapt past the ash colored mare and quickly covered the rest of the distance. Sun whinnied softly. Her head buried in Aren's chest, nostrils flaring with warm currents of air.

"Uneasy night for both of us," Aren laughed, caressing the mare's jaw. Sun pushed her head, nuzzling his neck and shoulder. The movement caught Aren's throbbing member. Sun's breath made it throb like a war drum. The elf exhaled, shivering with raising lust.

"Easy, light of mine. Still like morning dew upon grass..." Aren scratched her forehead, all the way up to those twitching ears. He worked up her neck when the mare whinnied again, louder. She turned, presenting him with her rear.

Aren swallowed. His hand reached out, caressing the short fur of her rump. The warmth made Aren gasp. His member sprung with each caress, and his eyes stared at the quivering lips. The base glistened with a clear sheen. A sight that quickened blood.

"Not here. If any human sees..."

The mare snorted and backed, forcing her need in the rider's face. The scent of heat made Aren's eyes water. Excessively sweet and somewhat bitter, like Bentbark leaves . The caged member rammed hard against the prison of cloth.

Aren sidestepped, clearing the slime off with a hand swipe. Sun snorted impatiently and flicked her tail. Her folds parted and closed repeatedly. A few drops of liquid forced their way outside, basking briefly in the torchlight before falling.

Desire consumed her. It was clear as that white mane flowing across her back. Aren swallowed again and brushed her broad tail aside. Another flex of her lips allowed brief glance at the pink flesh hidden underneath.

There was no way out of this. With no mate available, Sun needed relief. An arrow shaped hand slithered inside the mare with a squelch. Sun's hind leg slammed the floor, and her muscles tightened. Aren's breathing became greedy. Hungry lips swallowed his hand like a starved beast. He delved further inside, moaning under the embrace of his treasured one. He thrust quick and deep, parting the flesh with dexterous fingers.

Sun moaned, whinnying and whimpering. Her muscles twitched and convulsed at the intruding hand. Aren continued his siege, rubbing her lower belly with his free hand. It was too much, too quick. Sun's flanks buckled and trembled. The mare moaned, releasing the burden of liquid heat.

She held Aren's hand inside her until the raw need was spent. When he pulled his arm free, Sun's heat splashed on his tented breeches. The Rider groaned and forced his eyes shut. Mighty throbs wracked his member, preparing for the upcoming rush of seed. Aren grabbed Sun's flank. Strength left his limbs at the height of his pleasure, and his eyes rolled back. The first wave hit like a spear. The pressure slammed against the breeches, bounding back to the sensitive member.

"Ah aaaagh!" Aren yelped. The pleasure was too intense. Sparks of color danced before his eyes as the member squirted the seed down to the last drop.

Then it vanished. Aren blinked twice and took a deep breath. Sun remained still. When the pressure vanished and her Rider lay still, she turned and sniffed the seed drenched breeches. A loud snort escaped her

Aren smiled and stroke that inquisitive snout. He didn't' expect Sun to turn around yet again. Relieving her the second time took a bit longer. Numbness tingled Aren's arm before the deed reached completion.

Sun whickered and slapped her tail. She wanted more. Her insides were drenched with her fluids. Aren caressed her flesh with a dozen of quick thrusts. Sun's balance wavered. Her hind legs slipped on the ground, trying to find purchase. Aren gritted his teeth. The smell of heat filled the barn. Aren's arm escaped the cavernous depths just as the water oozed out of Sun's lips. The mare huffed and snorted, still tense with the weight of completion.

"Ey!" A voice called. Aren ducked behind a hay mound. Starprowlers maul that horse keeper. The flicker of a torch blazed at the entrance of the inn, far enough for Aren to pass by unnoticed. The elf looked at Sun, whispered his love for her, then scampered to the inn and the waiting bed. Sleep did not argue this time.

Morning spilled light through two bare glass windows. Aren blinked away further thoughts of sleep and pushed the furs aside. Despite the room's warmth, he shivered. If only Sun was here...

The thought of her roused the spent member from revitalizing dreams. Aren sighed. He remembered the plains too well, and the Broadleaves that roamed them. A specter of flame they were when they gathered to graze. Elves would sing and offer braided twigs, but few Broadleaves approached. Sun was among them. The day he bonded her was--

"After he's dead," Aren mumbled as he dressed a human crafted shirt, followed by the barkskin vest. A large stain made the leather breeches hard and brittle. Aren had to shake and rub the flaked seed vigorously before wearing them.

He ate bread and meat in silence. Fifty silvers from that fat purse also saw cheese and warm stew brought to his table.

"Gratitude," he told the serving boy.

He nodded that stubby chin of his and left just as a group of armored lads entered. Clad in armor and young of age, these had the most right to boast and shout. A thing they did.

Aren busied himself with the stew. Bread and meat chunks made their way into his mouth. He looked at the bowl, pushed away a potato, and eyed the human party. Middle-aged, with overgrown bellies and rough voices. Battles were mentioned, insults shared, and coin poured between dirty fingers. They prepared to leave when the boy -Aren noticed him just now--broke from the ground. He passed a table. And another.

He walked towards Aren.

"Brightness shine upon you."

Aren almost choke on his bread. A human, greeting like an elf!

"Eh, you too," Aren replied curtly.

Boy scratched his elbow. He had a stiff posture and his eyes never settled. He also traded weight from one foot to another. Aren looked at the bloated plate worn by the whelp. It matched the leg guards and the boots. Those were the most annoying, clanging and crying with every movement.

"Find tongue," Aren swallowed a chunk of meat. He couldn't stare at that drooping face for long. Humans were ugly, but not like this one: bloated chin, drained cheeks and a stubby nose resembling the tip of an arrow.

"The innkeeper," the youth stammered. "Said you're a veteran. We ride to king's keep, and--"

"Ride without me."

"Th-There's a tournament!"

The boy caught Aren's attention. He heard about these tournaments a week ago. Humans fought among themselves for amusement. It made no sense why, but these gatherings attracted many humans of worth.

Aren's fist tightened. "Will the king attend?"

"His majesty will be there. Honor the winner himself, he will."

"I will lay eyes upon this king," Aren said. And plant my sword through his chest. The thought of blood washed away any reluctance. He finished eating and retrieved Sun from that stinky stable. The boy appeared at the entrance. He rode a snow colored horse that paced around nervously. The boy pulled the reins and patted the horse's neck.

"Ice rarely acts this way, and only around mares. "

Aren frowned. He knew how males reacted around Sun. "My Sun reached the peak of her fertility. See yourself away."

The boy looked at Aren. His horse trotted forward. He came towards him. The boy's harsh words had no effect on the animal's behavior.

Aren touched the ground, sword in hand. "Control your mount, boy."

"i--I can't! Your mare. She has to--"

A nudge took Aren in the back of his neck. Sun whinnied softly and lowered herself on the ground. Aren hopped on her back just as the mare bolted forward. The snow stallion reared on his hind legs, dropping the burden from his back. The three remaining humans laughed and emptied their tankards a throw away from their horses. They looked in Aren's direction, shouting words. Sun darted right past them, splashing mud onto their fine metal.

Aren leaned forward and grabbed Sun's neck to steady his wavering balance. His face disappeared in the silky strands of Sun's mane. A full gallop threw him into the dirt more than once.

"Run like morning light," Aren shouted to his mount. The mare's thundering hooves ate the muddy path as she made her way between carts and passing humans. Two boys fell under her hooves, along with one of the guards posted at the entrance. Fools, all of them.

The open fields allowed for another speed burst. Aren guided Sun off the road just in case. Search parties provided little challenge, but hefty delay in the elf's plans. King's Keep became the capital city of the humans after the war. What was once a mighty fortress attracted swarms from everywhere. Getting inside was foolishness, yet the tournament provided timely opportunity.

Aren knew the city's location from his travels. Four days he traveled along the king's path. Water ran out after the night of the third, and food was made up of toughened bread and traveling grease. The day stretched until late evening when two loaded carts could be seen in the distance. Aren made up six shapes. Four rode ahead, while two walked on foot on either side of the animals that dragged the carts behind them.

Aren's lips stung as they stretched into a smile. Humans used these trap carts in the war. They had cloth draped over to conceal the loot. Aren was there when two swordsmen rushed with their wolves towards the back of the carts, only to earn several arrows through their chests.

Sun darted towards the group of men. Aren's grip tightened on the wooden handle of his sword. A human shouted something. Aren used a reverse grip on his sword and threw it. The blade pierced straight through the human's vest.

The scream and the scent of blood had the human mounts in a panic. Sun turned to the side Aren leaped from her back, taking down the human rider with him. They hit the earth. The human shouted for a brief moment. A punch saw his throat crushed and his wails silenced.

"Enro, the bow!" the crisp words made Aren's skin shiver. He retrieved the sword from the human's hand and turned. A hill of a man charged towards him while the other readied his bow. Aren met his enemy in a fury of steel. A slash to the chest, built into a cresting cleave. With a groan, the human blocked both of the attacks. Aren disengaged just in time to avoid a low kick. He chanced a look at the archer, who rolled just in time to avoid Sun's charge.

Aren gritted his teeth. He deflected the incoming thrust without effort. The sword flew from the human's hand, but not the dagger. Metal flashed in the light. Aren sidestepped. It was too late. Fire pierced his shoulder as the metal dug into his flesh. Aren bit back the pain. He punched the man's neck. A rash cough brought spit in his eyes. He blinked. With the other hand, he broke the meaty wrist holding the dagger and wrenched it out. The man stumbled back with a dagger plunged through his eye.

Once again, a sword found its way in Aren's hand. The archer tried aiming his bow, but Sun allowed him no pause. She had the man on the ground, screaming. Aren took a deep breath. The pain in his shoulder seethed and stung.

And the nervous whinny of horses attracted his attention, along with the clanging of metal. The same sound he heard in the tavern. Armored men approached. Eight, split into two groups. Aren squinted his eyes. The light caught in their armor, allowing only short glances.

"Too many," he turned around. "Sun!"

The mare approached with brisk steps, but so did the humans.

"Torfen, Agron!" A coarse shout came. Two humans split from the group. No armor weighted their quick steps. They looked smaller too. Two boys. They yelled as they charged

Aren clashed swords with them. The raven haired fell in the first swing, while the other struggled too parry three slashes.

"Fall back, you fools! Archers!"

The boy's eyes lost focus for a moment. Aren didn't hesitate. He spun his sword, kissing the human's neck in a straight line.

"Nooo!"

"Run, Sun," Aren patted her neck as he vaulted on her back. "Can't kill all of them."

The mare jumped over the weeds growing on the side of the road and ran. Grass was trampled beneath her hooves. Aren leaned one hand on Sun's neck for balance. The shoulder wound barely allowed room for thoughts. Gritting his teeth, Aren pressed it. Warm blood coated his fingers, and his vision flickered.

"Agh!" The war. He suffered worse wounds in the war. He clung to Sun's mane with an arm as the mare descended upon the ridge of a hill. Aren blinked. The battle alacrity fled his senses, allowing fatigue to rush over like a riptide. The wound also pulsed with renewed vigor. Aren wiped the blood on his vest and pressed harder.

"Farther," he said to Sun. The mare ran, and ran, almost to the point of exhaustion. Shrubs replaced weeds and small bushes sprouted out of the ground. Sun crashed on the ground. Aren barely jumped in time.

"Ack," he looked back. The sun cast its flame upon a field of weeds and shrubs speckled with shades of red and violet. Only insects disturbed the silence, and Sun's quickened breathing.

"They have no hope to follow." Sun's neck was warm, and water oozed between the short strands of creamy fur. Sun looked at him and whinnied softly. That earned her a kiss between the nostrils. "I think you pushed yourself too far though," Aren said. The mare shook her head, grunting in disapproval. "You know I'm right." The elf rummaged through the supply bag. A water skin was summoned. Aren shed his vest and the human-weaved shirt. Several scars marred his muscular body.

The shirt dropped on the ground in a rustle of weeds. It was wet and sticky with clogged blood. Aren took the sword from the ground. He cut the cloth into two large strips. He cleaned his wound with the water, and gathered several herbs that were crushed, moistened, and fastened under the strip of cloth tied from shoulder to breast.

"Merely a puncture," Aren said. Sun looked at him with one sparkling sapphire eye. The stalks of two weeds protruded from her maw. Aren smiled. He wished he was a Broadleaf. Grasses were everywhere, and water was always easy to find. Sun's ears came into view, then the rich mane covering her neck. It bore the pure white of the clouds and flowed down the mare's back, all the way to the tail, which gave the species its name. A flick offered a brief glance of the lips hiding underneath.

Pain flared. Blood quickened. Aren nibbled on his tongue. Not that he needed any distraction. He was a Broadleaf, dark as a night without moon. And he pushed. Sun's lips quivered before his hardened member. He pushed again. Warmth enveloped him in a wet embrace. Sun's flanks trembled as she pushed him deeper and deeper inside. Another thrust followed. The member ventured even deeper, where warmth became unbearable. Sun's walls prodded and trembled, squeezing from all sides, begging for release. Aren thrust again--

And blinked just as the air left his open mouth. He was still on the human plains, with a stiff member that rammed again and again against his breeches. Pain also returned, biting like an overzealous pup. No. Mounting and pleasuring were as different as elf from human. Aren bit his tongue. He cared about Sun more than the human king, the elves, or anyone else. They shared a bond firm as the earth beneath their feet. Yet mates shared an even stronger bond.

The words of Renoren'Tharas came back to him, along with the bitterness of the banishment. The fool loved his rules. He pierced them with his tongue more than he pierced his own mate. Elves and beasts were made equal in all the other tribes. Elves slept with their animal companions, shared meals and affection, yet not their essence. Why? Everyone said the same. No life sprouted from such union. He who gave the breath of creation upon the world set an order to things. And order couldn't be altered or broken.

Elf and beast weren't meant to copulate, just as sky and earth can never embrace each other. Aren's muscles tensed. His member flexed with purpose. Every fiber of his being urged him to claim Sun. Mount, pierce, and release inside her. Aren did that many times, and many times he woke with soiled breeches. Lust. And desire. Emotions he learned to ignore since the wind speaker put a sword in his hand.

Aren blinked again. A gust of wind sent shivers down his spine. Sun trotted towards him, parting the grass with her lithe front legs. Aren patted her long forehead just as the mare rubbed against his chest. The affection made him unbearably hard. Untamed lust gathered in his crotch, pleading for release. The warm breath falling upon the member enflamed the fire. A nudge tested his member.

Aren gasped and stepped back. "No," he breathed out. His jaw was tense, like the rest of his body. "Not here."

The mare started at him, sapphire eyes gleaming as light fell upon them. Aren bit his tongue. Fool. Of course he didn't want to spend his seed inside his breeches. They were cold and rough. They did not radiate the same warmth and comfort as Sun's insides. Aren could only imagine how those soft lips felt around his member.

"Fool," he whispered, while in his mind he pushed deeper into Sun. He wanted to. Every fiber of his being urged him to, yet the rules were never broken by any elf. Only mates shared their essence. No elf was ever allowed to taint his companion's insides with his seed. But the dreams...the dreams spoke different. He mated Sun until her legs buckled and liquid heat dashed forth from her lips.

Sun snorted. Aren blinked. He didn't realize she was so close. The mare's snowy tail flicked to the side, revealing two creamy, needy lips. She looked back, whickering impatiently. Two fingers entered inside. They found Sun slick and trembling with need. The whole arm went inside. The mare whinnied as her sensitive flesh tightened around the invading presence.

Aren closed his eyes. It was not his arm pushing forth, but his member. He thrust, and thrust, and thrust again until Sun's familiar moan reached his ears. The mare raised her tail and tightened around Aren's arm like a serpent. She squeezed and relaxed as the heat spilled on either side of Aren's arm. The scent of fertility filled the air. Aren squeezed his eyes shut. Pressure threatened to explode from his enraged member. He clenched his fist and bit it until he tasted blood.

"Gmhhh," Aren groaned. Sun's high pitched whinnies dwarfed any insects as the mare tested the ground like an uncertain fawn. Her sex clenched rapidly, expelling long drops of fluid between the slimy folds. It lasted a few heartbeats, until urine replaced it. With a deep breath, Aren walked by the mare's rump, caressing it with a slimy hand. The mare nuzzled him, releasing a soft whinny.

"Wish you had a mate," Aren hugged her, touching his forehead to hers. "A proper mate would have made life bloom inside you."

The only answers were three short breaths. Aren wasn't prepared for the nudge that pushed him away.

And certainly not for Sun's behavior. The mare summoned Aren's attention with a snort. She circled the elf, her cerulean eyes bearing into his. A slight frown crested Aren's forehead. He saw this before. Where--

The trample of a hoof broke his concentration. Sun reared on her hind legs. Her snowy mane flared in the wind as she kicked at nothingness. She touched the ground with a snort, her pace quickening shortly after.

Aren gasped as the memory speared through his mind. The mating chase! The wild broadleaves living near his tribe ran and chased each other during the fertile months. The females made the first move. First came the picking. They would run around their chosen mate, warding off any competition.

Just like Sun did. Grass and dust flew from the ground as she circled him at full gallop.

Aren blinked the annoying water from his eyes and blocked the mare's path. She stopped abruptly and lowered her head, gently nuzzling his neck. Aren rubbed both sides of her head. This was the accord, as the elves called it. Male and female cemented their choice through nuzzles and other forms of affection. The mare whinnied in delight and gently pushed with her snout. Aren knew what that meant. Taking a deep breath, he ran.

And Sun promptly followed. The chase was both a test of speed and endurance, yet elves were no match for their mounts. Aren's burst of speed began to dwindle. Fatigue settled in, demanding quicker breaths. Sun's thundering hooves were right behind him. Aren clenched his hands into fists. If females chose, then males led the chase. Aren tried to keep a constant pace, but Sun's prodding snout constantly poked his back. Was she demanding more? Delight oozed out of her in forms of different vocalizations.

Aren dropped on the ground, panting. The sound of hooves also stopped. He looked behind to see Sun's giant nostrils. The mare whinnied, nuzzle him, and turned around, tail slapping. This wasn't part of the ritual. The male would--

Aren coughed. Dried throat allowed no words to form. He was about to ask something when sun touched the ground with her belly. The mare shook her head to ward off a fly and craned her neck. The two looked at each other for a few heartbeats until the mare snorted impatiently. Aren didn't need to look at her exposed sex to know what she wanted.

And Aren's member responded. The breeches were unlaced with blinding speed. Need filled Aren, and any doubts were cast aside. Sun made her choice. She chose him, and no leader or kin were here to sway him from this path.

The breeches fell on the ground with a thump. Aren approached, his heart beating in his chest like Sun's hooves upon dried earth. Images of mating and release flashed through his mind, flexing the engorged member. A gust of air blew, chilling the exposed flesh. Aren barely resisted the temptation to grab his member and release the way he did so many times.

"Shard of my life," he whispered as he caressed Sun's rump. "We are mates."

Aren spoke several words of praise. None was fit to describe his perfect mate or what he felt in that moment. The elf bothered no further. Sun's lips glistened with a clear sheen as the light fell down upon them. Pushing her tail aside with one hand, Aren plunged in the soft depth where warmth stood king and moisture queen.

"We arooh," Aren gasped. The first thrust had him on the brink of release. "maates ooooaaaugh," a moan escaped him. Words were truly useless. He thrust again, trembling in Sun's silky embrace. Heat surrounded him, and flesh attacked his member from all sides. A groan escaped Aren's thought. It was too much. By the time he prepared for the third thrust, his member became like stone.

"Ack!" Aren's jaw clenched. He could feed the seed slithering from his groin. Several thrusts followed, preceding a piercing yell. Aren growled like a beast as seed burst forth from his sensitive member. He plunged as deep as he could, filling his mate with squirts of seed. Man and mare both moaned as the two cemented the newly forged bond with raw sounds and fresh seed.

They rested until the Sun disappeared from the sky. Rising with a groan of contentment, Aren jumped on Sun's back. The mates continued their journey to Kingskeep. Sun found plenty of nutrients on the road. Aren was less lucky. With his supplies nearing their end, he starved during the last day on the road. Sun fidgeted round during the night. She was restless, despite Aren's pleadings. She even brought a mouthful of weeds, laying them before her mate. Aren couldn't eat them, yet the gesture had him in the brink of tears.

"Rest, Sun. We ride in the morning."

Like the many times before, she didn't listen. Night turned to morning, and morning to sunset before they reached Kingskeep. When they reached the city's gate, Sun could barely stay on her legs.

Aren saw coin provided to the guard and rushed ahead to find the stables.

"Bring hay and water," the elf barked. Two boys relaxed against a rotting fence. When they heard Aren, the older boy approached, stretching his hand. Demanding payment. He earned the tip of a sword between his eyes instead.

"My mare traveled whole day. No sleep, no food, no water. See supplies brought to her, or head parted from your neck."

The boy needed no further words. He motioned to his younger companion and left. The lads returned with a bucket of water and an armful of hay. Aren splashed water and cleared Sun of froth when a guard joined, inquiring about threats made.

Coin turned their thoughts to more pressing matters. Aren guided Sun to the far end of the stables, where no male could touch her. "Stay here. Know that I will return shortly," he hugged her neck and caressed her snout.

A cough reminded Aren of the pest's presence. "Your horse will be well tended, elf," the guard snickered. "As will I. King's Larder is two hundred paces from here."

"King's what?" Aren frowned.

"An inn," the guard scratched his face fur. "Has the best meal I ever tasted, and I know someone who will pay for it." He looked at Aren with stark grey eyes and snickered.

The human walked forward like an ambulant disease. He greeted everyone in his path and shared kind words with the innkeeper.

"And bring that too," he laughed. "We'll have a king's feast at our table," he looked at Aren. A fat hand shook his shoulder. "Eh, elf? A feast paid with stolen coin."

Arguing with that oaf was useless. Aren bit his temper and took a seat at secluded table. Soups, meats and jugs of squeezed fruit found their way to his table. Aren ate quickly, oblivious to the guard's grunting and munching. He thought only of Sun, though different ways of killing the human king crossed his mind.

"When is the tournament?" He asked.

"Mhm, whm?" the human pushed the bowl away and wiped the stew from his beard. "Tournament, eh?"

Aren nodded.

"Is next day," he bit into a chunk of bread. "But mead is today." He spit the bread and took a big sip from his mug. " Eat, drink, and think tomorrow." The human laughed. He feasted like a starved animal, eating greedily and drinking until rivers forked across his beard.

He sat up from his chair, burping loudly. "Tired. Get us a bed, elf," he said and walked towards the stairs.

Aren ignored his anger and did as the human commanded. The swine of a man crashed in the bed with the first opportunity, iron clad as he was. "You take the floor, elf. Sleep like the dog you are."

Empty words spilling between rotten teeth. Aren lay on the ground with no intention to sleep. He started at a wooden stool. Thoughts of Sun and murder passed through his mind. Tomorrow, it was the human's turn to suffer.

The loud snoring purged any trace of tranquility. Aren blinked twice. His head ached and his back protested as he propped a hand on the ground to hoist himself up. Only the speckle of stars illuminated the blackened sky. Wind's furious breath! He left Sun alone for--

Aren didn't think. He gently opened the door and fled the inn, berating himself for falling asleep.

The way to the stables was easy to remember. Two turns from the guard tower, then all the way to the right. Torchlight illuminated the lean-to where the horses were stabled. Aren ran. Few humans crossed the streets at night, and none could be spotted near the stables.

The elf yelped in joy when Sun whinnied and pranced. They shared welcoming touch and caressing touch.

"Never do that again," Aren spoke as he caressed her side and belly. He rubbed and touched her, ignoring his own needs and the budge assaulting the rim of his breeches.

Aren wanted to take her then and there as Sun presented herself to him. Few humans walked the roads at night, but this was a city. The stone in the paving whispered of steps, and the walls had ears. The rustle of hay and careless steps betrayed someone's presence. The groom approached

"Leaving already?" The boy asked smugly.

"No," Aren searched for his pouch. "You are."

The whelp counted the coins, separating them with a finger. "Wh--why would you pay me so?"

"No questions," Aren hissed. "Disappear."

"I cannot leave the horses. If someone--"

Aren grabbed his throat. "No more words, boy."

He left. Aren returned to his mate, smiling broadly. He flew through the human kingdom thanks to Sun. And he paid with the only currency she traded in.

Sun moaned. Aren was elbow deep inside her when the sound of hooves reached him. They shuddered, elf and mare. Aren wrenched his arm free. Tried to. Sun's muscles turned to stone during the peak of her pleasure. And that never ended quickly.

Aren called her name several times. "Sun, let go of it. There is time, plenty of time, mate of mine."

The mare whimpered and moved on unsteady legs. Aren felt her muscles tremble under the weight of release. Her muscles still held strong, and the riders approached. Aren massaged the flesh around her lips, pushing gently with his fingers. Moisture was all around, and it was so warm...Gentle words accompanied the soft movements. None worked. She was afraid. Aren knew when he caught her stare.

"He's here!" a voice shouted. That night-cursed horse-tender!

"Shush," Aren whistled sharply. "Be silent!"

The groom continued to wail and shout like a beaten wretch.

Aren clenched his arm and pulled. Sun drew back, tail flicking to the side. Another pull. The mare whinnied. Her insides shivered, and warm water flooded her tunnel. Aren pulled himself free just before the first guard came in.

"What's the clamor for?" he inspected the stable with a scrutinizing gaze. Aren's hand went to his sword, but the human didn't look towards him. The faint torchlight revealed the whelp he bribed earlier. The worm-eating whelp faced the guard and pointed in Aren's direction. "He's there. Threatened to kill me, he did. Had me by the neck and--"

"A horse tried to strangle you? That what you say?"

"No, lord, I--"

"I'm no lord, you simpleton."

"Just take a look!"

"And see the horse's ass?" A hand lashed out, striking the whelp's head. "Waste my time, you do."

Aren backed to the end of the stables. He could barely see anything in the darkness.

"But I saw him! Saw the elf mating his horse!"

Rough laughter made Aren's skin prickle. "You're a funny one, aren't you?"

"I heard about that elf, Belgor. Maybe we should take a look."

"Look where? Full of hay, there is. Bring torch there and everything turns to ash."

"I don't need a torch," the other guard scoffed. He turned in Aren's direction. This wasn't good. There was only one way to go. The human took a step. Then another. He looked around, but kept his pace steady.

Aren bit his cheek and rushed to Sun's side. The guard just passed a horse when his eyes found Aren.

"Damnation!" he drew back. "What are you--"

"Leaving." Aren prepared to mount Sun when a hand stopped him.

"You're that elf, aren't you?"

"He's the one!" The whelp shouted. "Look at him!"

"Show me your face," the guard said.

Aren looked sideways. "He's wrong. False words brought forth by lack of coin."

"Come back, Sugo. This wench is wasting our time."

"Look at me." A hand went to Aren's neck. The elf wrapped an arm around the guard's neck and snapped his neck in an instant.

"Sugo, come back!" His companion shouted from a dozen paces away. "It's a false trail. Just some urchin trying to sound important."

"He killed him!" the whelp's voice sounded distinctly scared.

That earned him another hit over the head. The boy cried in pain. "I will, if you keep speaking. Sugo?"

No answer. Aren wasted no time in jumping on Sun's back. The mare whickered and turned towards the stable's entrance. Putting up a burst of speed, she blazed past the torch bearing guard and his whelp. The cobbled streets replaced the dirt of the stables. Aren guided Sun towards the gate. The mare ran. Flames flickered in the distance. Aren ignored them. Sun was faster than any human mount. She could outrun them.

The gates approached quickly. Aren could see only two. No, four. He blinked. More shapes appeared in the torchlight. "No, Sun!"

The mare burst forth like an arrow. Aren pulled her mane, but she didn't stop. "We can't--"

"Stop!" A shout came. Sun rushed towards the men, only to have her way blocked by several pikes. Aren felt a chill going through his spine. No mount jumped over a blockade and remained unscathed.

"No, Sun--" The words vanished into hoof beats the yells of humans. They crouched, sticks held ready.

Sun jumped over. Aren saw the pikes lashing like angry snakes, burying into Sun's flesh.

"No!" Aren whispered. The mare screamed her pain as she thundered across the road. She didn't keep the pace for long. Aren's chest tightened. Sun whimpered, her legs becoming more and more unsteady. Aren jumped from her back. Sun looked at him, whinnied, and collapsed on her side.

"Sun. Shard of my life," Aren inspected her, moving his hand frantically across the short fur of her shoulders and belly. He couldn't see a thing in the dark, only hear. The earth spoke of approaching humans.

"Kill the rider!" the voices said.

Aren ignored them. Warm liquid coated his hand. Blood. "Sun. My mate, you need to stand," Aren whispered. "They're coming."

She whinnied softly.

Aren dropped on the ground and hugged her neck. "sun..."Her once flowing mane was now sticky with blood, and shivers wracked her form. Aren blinked. Was he seeing better? He looked back upon two torch bearers. Two dozen paces away.

When he looked back towards Sun, breath caught in his throat. Dark liquid stained a large portion of her chest and belly. Sun blinked. Her breath came in short, quick gusts. She was going to die, and there was nothing he could do. War taught him as much.

Ice filled Aren's veins, mixing with the fires of vengeance. The humans. They took Sun's life!

"He's here!"

"...My mate...They..."Aren turned around, sword in hand. He gripped the handle until his fingers felt numb. A scream left his lungs, terrible and raw like his boiling emotions. Yet, as the humans approached, Aren felt no sense of loss. Only anger. The terrible, consuming rage he felt during the war, when humans were slaughtered in thousands.

Nothing changed. The outcome was always the same. He had to kill them all

Aren whipped his blade and charged. He cut and slashed, dancing with a veteran's expertise. Metal rang against metal as swords clashed. Screams filled the night, and blood wet ground. Aren whirled his blade in a flurry of steel and vengeance. His arm never tired. His legs never stopped moving. Gurgles filled the night, followed by screams. He parried, blocked, evaded and dodged until every human dropped on the ground.

With the guards dead, Aren picked a torch from the charred soil and walked towards Sun. She lay in the same place she was before. Aren crouched and touched her nose. No breath warmed his hand. She was cold. Unmoving. Dead. Lifeless. With a kiss and several words, Aren left Sun behind and passed through the same gates that deprived his mate from her life. The road was devoid of any trace of life.

Aren looked to the sides. He counted hundreds, each housing humans within their bellies. Humans that were about to learn the price of war and vengeance.

****

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