Creatures Of Dusk

"They are not going to cross the south door, Dracae. Think sanely!" said a wrinkly faced old man, stretching his hand to pull the shining sword out of the thick brown wooden surface, embedded in the bloodied soil. "Dusk is only a few steps shy from rising in its full glory. We shan't stay here anymore."

A murmur escaped the crowd comprising hundreds of dwarf Bunyips, whose soccer like shape-shifting pitch-black eyes were strained on the cracks of the giant rusty metallic gate. There was a raw fear which stank the breeze above the area of Fuathland for the half a century in number of bunyips who crossed the door– their footsteps never returned. A petite woman– on the verge of entering in early twenties, dressed in a crimson fabric shifted on her foot and took a step near the murmuring huddle of crowd. Her powerful contour glowed in dominance as a blanket of silence passed the crowd upon taking in the glinting crown on their Queen's head.

"There is something unusually different about today's dusk, Gregori– for a flicker of hope is trying to find it's way amid the cluster of bad omens. We should wait for a phase longer, " smiled the bunyip queen, showing a hopeful glint in her black orbs which added a new shine to her perfect diamond-shaped face.

"What a waste of such a beauty!" A young man suddenly appeared from behind the crowd and neared the queen, who stood– holding her ground, "wouldn't it be unfair to let a young skin like you get away– without fulfilling a lad's desires and needs!" He had wavy salt white hair and wore a dark emerald puffy coat with high black boots. A high merchant.

"A face of a goddess, the brown curls like a satin blind licking the cold breeze, a body to be worshipped and. . .locked inside an abode for a lad's possession. But she is standing here on the battlefield, waiting for the monster to devour on her flesh– how injustice." A young man stopped a few inches before the queen and gazed at her with a predatory stare.

Wrinkly old man balled his fist while shaking with anger but before he could thunder at the man, the queen shot a menacing smile at the merchant and began circling him, "a body of a soldier, eyes like a prince but a brain to be crushed at a maid's feet and the possession of your egoist words which demands to be chopped off and fed to the stray creatures–" queen stood facing his fuming form as her smile grew more poisonous, "–how injustice!"

As soon as she finished her words, the merchant drew a hunting knife which was studded with precious stones and roared with a burning hatred in his eyes, "a woman should know her place, fool lady! And if she denies to bow down in front of his master. . .her neck should be sliced off her body."

The queen without flinching from the intensity of anger– the merchant was reflecting, pulled out a sword from the hilt on her shoulder which was formerly covered by an oversized cloak and escaped the first strike by her opponent's side, with a narrow blink of an eye. The crowd had already retraced and thinned out along with the wrinkly man as everyone was known to the fact of better stay at bay when their queen was fighting.

She smiled smugly, flashing her pearl-like teeth which seemed to fuel the burning rage inside merchant's limbs, furthermore. And in the heat of the fueling anger, he committed that mistake which queen wished for. She didn't try to block the merchant's second strike as the sharp tip of the knife slashed through the queen's bare arms, making a dash of crimson blood sprout out from her wound. But the menacing smile didn't fade from her face, if anything, it grew wider. She sensed her.

Just when the merchant's blood-stained knife lept forward, cutting the sighing breeze with a gush– a rumble echoed across the large door. It was a low rumble, clearly from a distant source but the familiarity of the voice was enough to make each element of fuathland– froze. Only then, the merchant realized where his destiny has led him.

He slowly got on his knees and with trembling hands, placed the knife on the ground– a futile attempt, as destiny never spared any of the sinners. Each step which the queen took towards the merchant, screamed pre-death! She peered down at the young man and with the tip of her now guarded sword, forced the man to straighten and meet her into eyes, "a man should be aware of his surrounding before imposing his void dominance on a woman as 'she' certainly is not only bound to be chained in abode but to be set free with chin out and head held high, " Her charcoal coloured eyes slit into horizontal partitions as the lower part of her retina glowed like a ruby band, "and if a man denies giving her woman that place beside him. . .his throat should be sliced off his body."

The young man trembled, begged for his release but his destiny was written– for his hands were coated with the blood of the queen of 'fuath realm'.

Meanwhile, the roaring voice of a furious creature travelled through the gate, shaking the bricks which were holding the gate straight. Above them, the cloud rumbled at the exact moment when new dusk settled over the horizon. The almost negligible twinge in the ruby stone of her bangle made her aware of her presence and already known to the ultimate result of delaying, she clutched the merchant's nape in a life-sucking grip and dragged him towards the gate. The tugging and scratching at the other side multiplied suddenly as the creature caught the coppery smell of the blood oozing from the queen's wound. A signal, a final step, to leave the young man at the mercy of his destined death.

Without delaying further, the queen traced a pattern in the air, in front of the door– a shadow moved from beneath the gap making the merchant cry in horror, "I beg your pardon, queen. S-She is near–" He never got the chance to complete his sentence as in a swift motion, the queen threw him by his neck towards the opened crack of the gate.

For a few seconds, his agony filled cries filled the area which suddenly got replaced by the loud shrieks of a lady. There was no doubt lingering in the air, everything pointed towards the end of the merchant.

Unaware of their own destined paths, the crowd began to disperse to leave the bloody soil but the queen's dominant voice made them freeze their steps, "the fight has not ended yet, my people." She turned towards them and after a moment of gazing at each of the bunyips, her feet left the contact with the land as she hovered above them.

"The man is dead, she already killed him. What more is needed to be done, queen?" Asked a dwarf bunyip, pulling the yellow cap from his head.

For a moment, there was silence. Soon the heavy silence dissipated as a determined statement flew through the queen's plump lips, "the sacrifice of hundred bunyips– for the sake of fuath realm's existence."

Before the bunyips could get a moment to take in their leader's words, an unfamiliar and terrifying sound emerged from the partition of the giant gate, grasping everyone's attention towards itself. From the partition came a grinding noise, a howl of hunger, a roar of thirst. The hazy reverie shattered down when a smoky figure surged through each pore of the gate, breaking and destroying it behind. At last, what remained on this side of fuathland was a ruined and crumbled metallic door and the frozen limbs of hundred bunyips.

Queen's own stunned state reflected the clarified danger– she had not expected this amount of destruction. A name passed her now dry lips, accompanied by an exhausted sigh, "Scylla. . ."

And then from the smoke emerged a blurry figure about 12 feet tall, circling the ruins. Following the enormous figure, six snaky heads appeared one at a blink, their appearance– seizing the breath from each living soul. Just when the heads began hissing at their audience, twelve tentacle-like limbs sprouted out of the cylindrical body with a cat-like tail– thence adding the terrifying attribute to its already horrendous appearance.

Before anyone could contemplate anything, Scylla surged forward with a defining roar and slashed the necks of bunyips. The crowd cried out in unison but no force was able to stop her. They cried for their queen but she continued to hover in the air, watching every inch of destruction, Scylla was inflicting on her people, her kingdom. She was helpless and bound.

She did nothing but became a witness of the terrifying reality when the six tentacles clutched six bunyip at one stare and sliced off their limbs, fibre by fibre after sucking the last drop of blood from its snaky heads. She did nothing but witnessed the anguish filled surrounding when after a long moment, the Scylla scurried away inside the ruins, leaving scattered pieces of torn limbs– dripped scarlet, on the field.

This time, she didn't control the hoarse cry which left her withered lips upon glancing at the ruined beauty of her kingdom– the fuath realm. Her cries echoed in every direction of the field, mingling with the dust which was yet to settle down on the land and a throat choking foul smell of blood which stank the area.

The wrinkly man, after confirming the silence which was spread all over the deserted place, came out of his hidden spot. The moment he saw the queen throwing the merchant inside the dark gap, he slipped unnoticed from the crowd and hid himself in the shadows. He wiped the sweat from his sparse eyebrows and had barely controlled his shaken old form when a voice rose from his behind;

"Do you feel lucky to be left behind, Gregori? Or do you think you are gifted!"

The wrinkly man slowly turned around, towards the queen who suddenly appeared from behind the ruins. She had her infamous emotionless facade thrown over her appearance, making a new wave of tremble course through Gregori's veins. Somehow, the warrior part inside him surfaced and urged him to voice his words which were slowly making him hollow, "you let her kill hundred of your men and didn't even try to save anyone. You are not a true bunyip, Dracae. You are not a true leader. I won't let their deaths forgotten. You will pay, Dracae, you will have to answer everyone."

Gregori shifted on his feet and was about to run when Dracae's venomous voice crossed him, "and what made you believe that I will let you escape from here. . .breathing! Do you think I will let you pass this area with your neck intact to your body? Think again, old Gregori."

His face drained all the colours as he visibly trembled– yet, he couldn't help but scream in frustration, "you let that monster kill your men–"

"What I did was needed to be done, Gregori. There was no other option, no other way to protect my reign, " Dracae thundered in anger, having enough of his accusations, "for more than a millennium, I have protected this kingdom from Scylla's clutches. This realm of fuathland is breathing under a lethal curse but still, I managed to keep this land away from Scylla's wholesome destruction and what am I getting in return? Think again, Gregori and tell me, do you see yourself surrounded by your bunyip fellows tonight? Because I can't let you ruin my kingdom's peace."

She sauntered towards him in confident strides while Gregori stumbled back, continuously shaking his head but nothing came out of his mouth, for all he could see was his queen who was advancing towards him with burning motive in her eyes– to end him.

"For more than a millennium, I had come here, on this same spot each day, with hundred of bunyips to quench Scylla's thirst– a hundred bunyips must sacrifice their lives to stop Scylla from entering the fuath realm. I don't bring them here because I don't care for my men, but because I can't let her kill my thousands and ruin my kingdom. No Gregori, I had continued this sacrifice of hundred of my men each day and I will continue it. Until. . .her arrival in Fuathland. Today, you too were supposed to be with them but you decided to ruin everything for me and today, Scylla didn't drink the blood of hundred bunyips but of ninety-nine! And for your mistake, two more lives will be pulled towards darkness, along with hundred. Now think again, Gregori, I had sacrificed the lives of hundred for a fearless day to thousands but you. . . you took one wrong decision and now two more lives will end tomorrow. Who is more guilty, old Gregori?!"

Without giving Gregori the chance to open his mouth, Dracae surged forward, drew her sword from her hilt and seethed past him, furious flames sprouted off her fingertips and circled Grigori. The flames guttered as he cried for escape. She seized his voice in one leap as she crashed above him, slicing his wrinkly body from the middle, onslaught. His cries got shadowed by the unfateful silence while his blood seeped through the pores of the already bloodied soil.

Dracae fell on her knees, her heart crying for the anguish filled aura of that deserted area. No one knew the end of that sacrifice. She will have to force herself to come here again the following day, along with a hundred of his men. Yet again, she will have to become the witness of slaughters. Once again, she will have to mould her grieving emotions into a false hope to deceive her kingdom, to keep them safe!

"Only this time, the hope will not be false but a true flame of hope, Dracae." A musical voice resonated from behind the ruins, a dwarf female followed. Dracae turned abruptly as shock possessed her form. Her eyes were focused on the old woman who emerged from the ruins– from the deepest depth of fuath realm. She was dressed in the familiar grey long dress, blue stripes of silk around her bare arms and her ankle-length white hair which swayed with her dress in the breeze. She strode towards Dracae's frozen form with a relieved smile fixed upon her vibrant pink lips as her golden eyes twinkled under the late dusk moon, adding to the charm of her oval face. Nothing was changed. She was same. . . as she was 500 years ago.

Everyone had lost their hopes of ever getting the old woman back for when she left her body in the impenetrable shadows of the realm and her soul locked itself inside the vizim mansion 500 years ago– waiting for the birth of an angel hybrid. The awakening of her soul now was the sign of a clarified doubt. Dracae broke free of her frozen state as the woman gently cupped her cheek, a whisper escaped her lips while her moist eyes found the old lady's soft orbs, "mother..."

"Dracae, we don't have much time to ponder over the past. Listen to me, my child. These sacrifices need to end now and that's why I have awakened– to make you aware that. . . our protector has awakened! She has completed her destined journey of the first realm. Now, it's time for her to give the fuath realm, the freedom it is craving for millenniums. And you have to be her guide, Dracae. You must leave now for we don't have much time, " The old lady stepped back few steps and stretching her hand in front, she transferred an eye-blinding band of fused sorcery inside a shimmering circle.

"As long as she will take her time to enter this realm, the time will be frozen here. Scylla will not be able to kill any of the bunyips. And you have to guide her path to here. . . but invisibly! You can not enter the humane realm, Dracae, it will burn you. But remember, the moment her first step would fall on the fuathland, time will be resumed and so will Scylla. Tomorrow will return again and she will have to kill the Scylla that very day as if she failed– this realm would end."

The old lady transformed the glistening circle into a shimmering bracelet which got attached to Dracae's wrist while her mother whispered in a fading voice, "this is the elderly sorcery of bunyips, fused together, it will help our protector in the battle. When the right time will be a few steps away, transfer this sorcery to her." Her words gradually faded along with her existence, "my time has ended, Dracae. You must leave now as we don't have much time. She is now ready to walk on her destined path. Be her guide. . . go, Dracae, it's time."

Dracae didn't get a chance to bid her mother a final adieu as her loyalty and duty towards her reign dominated her emotions and with a determined step, she opened a portal with a snap of her hand. Without once glancing back, she passed through the portal to wait for her realm's protector– on the other side of the humane realm.

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