32 MMA Bears Four - Part 5

They had travelled overnight by plane. The Elder had chosen Marlow as his one allowed witness, above all he trusted his quick mind to assist in difficult situations, although the Elder was no intellectual slouch. Back at Swiftclaw, Gage and Bran were looking over the town. It was their job to rally the Swiftclaw clan, should there be another attack.

When they touched down on a private runway, the Elder put his foot down on the ground as he left the plane and drew in a deep breath, letting out a sigh.

Marlow laughed. "Is the air that good?"

"I was born in Scotland, Marlow. It's good to be home," the Elder said, walking to the limousine waiting for them.

Marlow was shocked. He always knew the Elder's past was steeped in mystery, being by far the oldest living member of Swiftclaw, but he had no idea he had been born in the Highlands of Scotland.

They were driven in the limousine to a remote location. The hills and mountains looked down upon them, the Scottish countryside rich yet imposing. Not much was said. Marlow and the Elder had done all of their talking before they'd left Swiftclaw. The Elder did not want to put this burden upon Marlow, but there had to be a witness and Marlow was happy to assist in any way he could.

The limousine crossed over an old stone bridge, and then entered through the gates of a castle ruin. Most of the walls still stood, but the land was littered with huge broken slabs of rock which had no doubt fallen from the roofless towers; a stern reminder of some horrid battle in the past.

From there, they left the limousine and were guided through a large cobbled courtyard, and then down stone steps which cut deep into the ground. Beneath the castle lay a labyrinth of large hallways and rooms, all lit by candles lining the old moss covered walls. It was as if they'd stepped out of the 21rst century and straight into the ancient past of Scotland.

Finally, they entered a huge, sprawling room with arched doorways, intricate yet horrifying gargoyle faces carved from the rock above. They glared down at proceedings. At the center of the hall, Havoc, the leader of the rhino shifters who had attacked Swiftclaw town, sat at a small table. In front of him a large open book lay.

The Elder motioned for Marlow to wait at the side of the room, before sitting down in front of Havoc. They stared at each other, but without the warpaint on his face, and in human form, Havoc looked far less threatening. He had short spiked hair, and was portly, almost jolly looking. The Elder was presented with a pen from one of the Cabal, a few of their men watching from the shadows. He signed, noticing the Havoc had already done so.

"I hope now, our clans can have peace," the Elder said loudly for all to hear.

Havoc nodded, stood up and then walked past the Elder to leave the room, but as he did he whispered into the Elder's ear: "It's a trap…" Then, Havoc left, his part in the charade over.

A clap was then heard from the darkness. "Well done, Elder. You've bought your clan true serenity..." a sinister voice said. Emerging from the shadows, Charles Whitmore, as sweating and balding as ever, walked over to where the Elder stood.

"Whitmore. I trust this will put an end to it?" the Elder said.

"Yes… It will... "

Suddenly the ground began to shake as if an earthquake were going to tear the entire castle down on top of them. Marlow fell to the ground, and as he did so he could feel something moving beneath the stone. Cogs, wheels, gears all cracking together as if shaking off an age of motionless waiting.

"Elder!" Marlow shouted, his voice barely heard over the rumbling sounds all around.

Charles Whitmore stepped back, grinning maniacally as huge stone pillars emerged from the ground around the Elder. Then, there was silence, nothing but the sniggering of Whitmore.

Marlow stood to his feet and leaped forward to help.

"No Marlow, run!" the Elder shouted.

"I'm not leaving you!" Marlow transformed into his bear form and pulled at the stone pillars which trapped the Elder.

"It's no use…" the Elder said quietly.

Marlow struck at the stone with all his might, but his claws merely sparked off the surface. A thousand bear shifters could not move it.

"Marlow… Listen to me," the Elder's voice was soft and gentle.

Marlow stopped his attempts to free his leader, exhausted.

The Elder smiled, his face kind and true. He reached out and patted Marlow on the head. "Marlow… All things come to an end, my lad. All things. You must escape this place and get to Swiftclaw, tell them what happened. Our people is what matters most…"

"No… Please… We have to get you free…" Marlow was dejected.

"Neither of you are making it out of here alive," Whitmore said, still grinning. "What we need, is your blood, Elder. Your blackblood which is the last of your line." Whitmore held up a strange looking crystal in his hand, the size of a blowing ball. It gave off a red glow.

"The beaststone…" The Elder said.

"Yes, without it, the Cabal is powerless to control the shifters. The tournament would become meaningless, and we would lose our influence," Whitmore answered.

"Take me, please. Let the Elder go!" Marlow pleaded.

"You are nothing to us, Marlow. You're just another shifter. Your Elder, however, he is the last of his descendants. The blackbloods. The first shifters who built the beaststone as a weapon to safeguard subsequent shifters from their own kind, who would quarrel amongst themselves. But it needs something… Each time we have used the beaststone its power has weakened. It uses blackblood itself to drain shifters of their humanity. Now, it is almost empty, but with your Elder's assistance here today, we can replenish the beaststone, and look forward to another thousand years of Cabal ascendancy… The irony is that the only creatures who are immune to the beaststone's effects are blackbloods, it is only they who have the power to destroy it, but since you are the last of that line, that now can never happen."

Out of the pillars which surrounded the Elder, large spikes suddenly emerged, several feet long. Their sharpened points glistened in the low light, and then, a rumbling, the pillars began to lean in towards the Elder, ready to drain him of every last drop of blood.

"No!" Marlow leaped towards Whitmore, his claws ready for attack.

But as he did so, something stirred from the darkness. A tail wrapped itself around Marlow's waist and smashed him against the ground. Six large reptilian shifters then appeared from the shadows, their skin green and scaled, their tongues forked, and their tails ready to strike again.

"You've underestimated one thing, Whitmore…" said the Elder loudly, as the spikes moved to just a few inches from him.

"I think not! What could I have possibly underestimated?" said Whitmore confidently.

"Me!" The Elder's eyes glowed bright golden, then they seared with a red light, the true power of a blackblood.

Pulsating with energy, the Elder shifted to his bear form white and huge. He pushed his shoulder against one of the pillars, and at its base it started to crack as the Elder pushed with all his might.

"Impossible!" Whitmore cried out.

The pillar then snapped into several huge pieces of rock, and the Elder was free. The reptilian shifters moved towards him, the Elder swiped with his claws cutting the tail wrapped around Marlow's waist. He then threw another, crushing it against a wall.

"Marlow, run!" the Elder cried out.

"Kill the Elder, he must be drained in this room!" Whitmore screamed desperately.

Now twenty or so reptilians entered the room, carrying large spiked spears.

"Marlow, you must warn our people!" The Elder shouted as he was surrounded by the reptiles.

"I can't leave you!" said Marlow.

"You must tell our clan what happened today. Gage will understand what needs to be done! It is the only way! Run young one!"

Marlow knew the Elder was right. This was his only chance of escape, as the reptilians encircled the Elder, he could get out, get back to Swiftclaw and let them know what had happened.

The Elder fought, glorious, strong, and noble. Wave after wave of reptile came at him, with claw and teeth he repelled them. But even the Elder could not defeat that number. A spear punctured his side. The Elder let out a howl. Marlow jumped on the back of a reptile, biting its throat. He was trying to save the Elder, but it was too late. Another spear stabbed into his chest, and the Elder fell to the ground.

"Run, Marlow… Save Swiftclaw," the Elder said, covered in his own black blood, the light fading from his eyes. Then the Elder staggered back to his feet, and roared. He roared like a champion, like a leader, like only the Elder could. The earth shook with it, Marlow looked on, tears in his eyes, as the Elder fought to the end, until finally, he slumped to the ground. His eyes closed over, and the blood seeped out from him.

As the blood touched the ground, it funneled along stone grooves, dripping into a large bowl at the corner of the room. There, Whitmore stood, laughing.

"Here's to another thousand years of Cabal rule!" he yelled, filling the beaststone from the bowl. Now containing the Elder's blood, it pulsated, ready to turn any shifter into a mindless beast.

"No! You bastards!" Marlow screamed.

"Kill him!" Whitmore yelled.

Suddenly, he was being chased through the labyrinth of tunnels by hundreds of reptilian shifters. He moved through them, hearing the shouting and slithering of scaley feet. It would only be a matter of time before he was caught.

"Come with me," a deep voice said suddenly from a large doorway. The figure stepped forward, it was Havoc, the leader of the rhinos!

"What makes you think I'd come with you!? You've betrayed your own kind!" Marlow said, half shouting, half whispering.

"I had no choice. The Cabal were going to destroy my clan… Please, I know a way out of here, but you have to trust me!" Havoc said, his eyes pleading.

Marlow had no choice.

Havoc was true to his word. He did indeed get Marlow out of the tunnels, leading him into the Scottish wilderness. As soon as he was clear of the place, he phoned Gage.

"Gage…" Marlow said, his voice quivering.

"What happened?" Gage sounded like he almost expected the bad news.

"The Cabal killed… They killed the Elder… They drained his blood to fuel the beaststone. Only blackbloods have the power to destroy it, and now that hope is gone with our Elder… Our poor Elder…" Marlow began to cry.

"Brother… One thing our Elder always taught us was that there is always hope, did he not?" said Gage, trying not to show his grief.

"But how can there be any hope now? The Cabal could wipe our clan out overnight with the beaststone fully replenished, and now there are no blackbloods to stand in their way…" Marlow was utterly devastated.

"No," said Gage confidently. "He was not the last of his line, Marlow. There is another."

Somewhere hidden deep in the mountains of the midwest, Jackson, the Elder's son, was now Swiftclaw's only hope.