About

Stories

Misc.

Credits

Ads

GAMBLE WITH FATE.COM

Chapter Three

A jaw-cracking yawn escaped Quinn and he narrowed his eyes, a faint growl escaping his throat. He was beginning to grow annoyed at the heavy fatigue that refused to leave him. As he rocked back and forth his eyes once again drifted closed, opening repeatedly as Quinn forced himself to stay awake. It had been two days and he slept most of the time. How was he ever going to figure out how to get back to the hospital if he could not stay awake long enough to grasp his surroundings or what exactly happened to him?

Quinn clung to the belief that he was going back, never mind the fact that he was not in his usual form. Dark eyes cracked open to look down, clouding at the furry sight. It was strange to not find hands but big furry black and grey paws. Kitten he was not any longer. After the first day, Quinn had doubled in size, causing him to lose his warm sanctuary within Merrick’s coat and be transferred to a bundle of blankets on a small carriage hooked to the knight’s horse. The ride was smoother than he expected. Peeking out of the furs he found gnarled trees bogged down with snow and a small path cut out of the Den Moss Forest terrain. He knew the name because his traveling companion had spent much of the time talking to him, not bothered that he could not answer. As if on cue, the smooth voice lifted from the cold silence and Quinn found himself relaxing, sinking into his warm bed.

“I know you must be getting restless, your Majesty, but your transference should be coming to an end soon. I admit though, I shall miss your form. Not every king or queen has such a regal figure when crossing over from Taberin. I recall one of the last crossed over as a meal worm.”

Quinn imagined a small smile on the knight’s face. He wrinkled his nose at Merrick’s words. He supposed, given the circumstances, things could be worse.

“We have a little more forest and the Red Racer Mountain path to get through before we reach the safety of your territory. I’m sure your staff is impatient for your arrival.”

Merrick trailed off, scanning the scenery. So far they had had an uneventful journey. He hoped it would remain that way. His hand left the reins to slide over the hilt of his sword. The charm Koshikal gave him was protective, but with the king so vulnerable, he could not ignore the possibility of a threat.

They stopped when they came into a small valley, a running stream bubbling near their camp. Merrick could not help chuckling as shuffling began in the low carriage. Out crept the baby king. He came to his knees now and Merrick bent to run his hand through the velvet fur atop His Majesty’s head. A black gaze met his at eye-level and Merrick’s smile grew when Quinn broke their staring contest to shove his head further against his hand. With one last push through his thick fur, Merrick stood and headed away from his horse, only to stop when he found Quinn following close behind.

“Please stay by the fire, your Highness. This is enemy territory and I must insist you remain here while in your weakened state.” It was not a request for his charge. With a quick glance back to make sure his orders were being followed, Merrick took off once again to find them some dinner.

Quinn snorted, breath fogging in the freezing air before returning to his warm nest after taking a drink from the frozen stream bank near their camp where the thick ice had been broken. He settled amongst the furs not a moment too soon before his joints began aching. Another annoyed sigh escaped between his delicate fangs as the burn spread through to his muscles. This had started that morning. Obviously he had known greater pain than this, but it was tiring after awhile and the cold was not helping. Letting his eyelids fall, he willed himself to doze while his knight strayed from him.

He could not have been sleeping long when his eyes shot open. What had awoken him he did not know and though he could not see anything that might have disturbed him, he felt a presence. Quinn was no longer alone. Instinct told him to stay silent, ears flattening against his skull. A shift in the wind brought a strange scent and even if he didn’t recognize it, it brought a whimper to the back of his throat that he had to bury his muzzle in his bedding to keep it muffled. Near silent voices drifted to his keen ears, a twig snapped from the bordering darkness of the woods. His eyes widened when first an outline of two lumbering figures made their way to the clearing before emerging a handful of yards from his campfire.

They were terrifying yet awesome to behold. Quinn had never seen anything like them. As tall as they were, their height was still impressive even as they slouched. Thick, hard muscles moved beneath scarred and calloused skin, covered by tight furs and leathers. One was a dark mud brown, its larger companion a light blue. Fierce eyes, sharp features and wild manes of hair were made to look even more frightening by the charms dangling from their hair, thick eyebrows, noses and lips. Quinn slumped further into his hiding spot as the blue being spoke, voice like rolling thunder.

“Well, there’s a fire. Now if the brat is actually here…” The dark-skinned creature yelped, laying his hands over his head after his companion slapped him hard across the back of his skull.

“Fool, of course he’s here. Master said he would be here, he will be here. Do not question his Godliness, Andros, you will not live long to regret it.”

Andros bared his fangs, snapping large jaws in the other’s direction. “Never would I dream of it, Solubeem.”

“Be quiet.” In the fading light Solubeem’s eyes began to glow and a smile stretched over his full black lips. “Ah, there he lies like the coward he is. Such a disgraceful way to die.”

Quinn only needed those words for motivation. He was thankful he had not hesitated for as soon as he leapt from the tent, Solubeem and Andros sprang forward, heavy club and blade slamming down where his body had been moments before. There was no reason or direction to where he ran, which most likely saved him as his attackers could not truly anticipate the movements of a terrified animal.

A pitiful scream escaped him as he swerved too fast, fell head over hind quarters and barely dodged their weapons. His muscles ached, burning as he ran in circles. Too late was he to realize that he was being herded away from camp and into the deep snow of the field surrounding them. A different sort of pain began to grow within his body, pressure building in his head. The sensation slowed him down and he skid face-first into the packed snow when one of his assailants barreled into him. A pained snarl echoed across the terrain on impact and Quinn gave up, too tired to run. Shivering and breath hitching as pain ripped through him, he only watched as Solubeem came to him with his weapon raised.

“Master wishes for your obliteration, baby tuloch—”

“One less of the retched animals,” Andros broke in, spitting at him.

Solubeem was annoyed by his interruption but smiled at his words. He could not have agreed more. “His will be done.”

The horrible ache inside Quinn’s head heightened, body burning as his vision blurred. Though it was a terrifying sound, his weakening heart fluttered when a blood-curdling roar shook the trees surrounding them. A blur of white between him and the warrior assassins and suddenly half of Andros’ entrails were spilt onto the snow at his feet. He died without uttering a sound, his throat torn out before he could even take a breath.

Solubeem stumbled back on instinct before taking in the sight now before him, screaming curses and tightening his grip around his jagged sword. The giant white bear’s paws sank into the snow, staining the ice dark blue. He could tell it wanted to rub its muzzle into the ground to rid the blood from its fur, however, its vibrant eyes remained on him. Its body tensed, readying to attack.

“You filthy demon!”

With another roar the bear sprang forward, batting powerful claws at the intruder. This was too simple. How dare Malediction send these peons! There would be nothing left of them to send back to the bastard, he would see to it. The thought of what these two mindless hulks were attempting made a berserk rage flow through the beast. It jumped, bypassing the piece of tin the cretin thought would protect him to bite and claw until all that was left of the Urokian warrior was mushy flesh and shards of bone.

In the stream’s outer depths, Merrick’s human form returned. Winded only slightly, he dragged himself from the delightfully cold water the instant he got his bearings back. Uncaring of the biting cold that would soon assault his unprotected flesh he turned to find his master. When he did, he was stopped firm in his tracks. The fur was gone; the only thing left remaining was a beautifully curved body lying in a graceful heap in the snow. Merrick managed to come closer, kneeling before his king whom had his back to him.

The pale flesh had a rosy tinge to it, the heat from transforming causing steam to rise from his skin. With a groan the man rolled over, black hair plastered against his cheeks and forehead.

Quinn opened his eyes, a strange sensation settling over him. There was no longer any kind of pain within him. His body felt lighter, less bogged down by...everything. In his heart he knew he was stronger, senses keen and thoughts sharper. A soft breath broke him from his thoughts and he turned his head and smiled. The man from earlier. The beast that saved him. What was it the older man had called himself?

“Merrick.”

Even without a trace of emotion behind the name, those intense eyes – the color of fresh and perfectly ripe limes – softened at hearing it uttered from his lips. Quinn rose onto his elbows finally noticing, but not caring in the slightest, that he and his knight were lacking clothes. His skin tingled as he felt the other man’s heat, Quinn’s own flesh beginning to numb as he remained in the snow. Strange impulses flared through him that he did not feel like ignoring and so gave into the urge to press his forehead to Merrick’s.

Merrick remained silent for a moment, smiling when his king’s head bucked beneath his chin. There was no one around of consequence so he gave into his master and lowered his head, nuzzling the basically new-born furling as he was cuddled and clung to. Despite the cold Quinn felt content to remain there for a few hours more. A noise rose up from them and he was shocked out of his happy daze when he realized it was he who was the cause and more importantly, he seemed to be purring. He looked to the hand that was running back and forth against his savior’s chest and noticed his nails were sharp and black, his skin a dreadful white that seemed blinding to him.

“This has to be a dream. This is a nightmare, isn’t it?” He looked up at the wonderful figment his mind had created, pleading with him to tell him the words he wanted to hear more than anything.

An understanding smile came more to his eyes than his lips but Merrick shook his head. “I am sorry, your Excellency, this is not a dream, nor is it a hallucination. Forgive me for being the one to dash your hopes.”

“Why am I here?” Finally that familiar panic was beginning to crawl back into his heart.

“Because this is where you are needed, Master. This is where you belong.”

“No I’m not. No I do not.” Quinn began to shake, the cold and the stress beginning to affect his exhausted mind. “Take me back, right now.”

“At this time that is impossible, my King.”

Quinn snarled and rose up, sinking his nails into Merrick’s arms. He did not appreciate the flat tone with which he was being spoken to, his feelings cast aside. This was not what he wanted to hear. “Take me back now!”

Merrick did not flinch or wince, only the hard grip he had on his charge’s waist gave away his discomfort, his dwindling patience. “Does this look like any place near where you once lived, let alone Earth?”

That made Quinn freeze. He looked around, eyes jumping from place to place. True things did seem to be off; the sky a little different in color, the air crisper and strange to his senses. Though he tried to write it off as his imagination, he could not pretend the colorful manlike creatures weren’t real. For one thing he could still feel the swoosh of air at their weapon’s coming too close to him whenever he closed his eyes and for another, their corpses still lay close by, slowly being covered by the snow that began to fall.

With another snarl he jerked away from Merrick, unmindful of the harsh movement while his nails were still embedded in the man’s biceps. His lungs felt like bursting as he gasped for air and his head began to throb. He had to get out of there, had to find his way back to his family. Sobs escaped him as images of his parents and siblings came to the front of his mind. They were gone. There was no denying it. Deep down he knew that this strange being not lying. There was no reason for him to lie. It was true. He was dead to his family and he would never see them again.

Quinn managed five steps before the freezing weather brought him down, ice melting against his tears as he lay in the snow. It was minutes later that he heard footsteps approaching, hands rolled him over and he was propped against a knee. He was sure his glare only looked like a slight downturn on his almost frozen face but he was sure Merrick knew he was at least trying. The knight paid him no mind, now dressed and draping Quinn in a heavy robe of furs. He watched with sore, tired eyes as he set to work putting his arms through the large sleeves and tying the sash in a tight knot.

“Who are you? Where am I? Why did this happen?” He was surprised Merrick heard him because he had trouble making out the sound of his pitiful voice.

Merrick finished dressing him, pausing to look him over. The furling’s eyes were dull, skin waxy and chattering mouth purple. With a small sigh he stood, taking Quinn with him.

“Sadly, that is not for me to tell you, your Highness.” Merrick pulled him close, letting the slight man put his weight on him. He leaned in a moment, nuzzling his king’s hair knowing it would comfort him. “Come now. Unfortunately all of this excitement has wasted our afternoon. We will make camp and retire now.”

The snow fell heavier and Merrick made his way to the safety of their camp with an exhausted Quinn clinging to him the entire way.

Next Chapter

Back

Home

Copyrights & Credits

GambleWithFate © Lacey Grey and Coco Reed (2006)
Designed by Aethereality.net
Images © Index Stock
Textures © The Blooming Effect and Hybrid Genesis
Brushes © Relished.net and Cirratus.org and Roshiweb.com