One

Thunder and lightning danced in the sky above a turbulent sea. Towering waves crashed against weathered stone and kissed the rocky shores. The sea was painted a dark turquoise, a mix of raw emerald and polished sapphire, lit only by the streaks of electricity in the sky.

It was common for such a storm to come during the rainy season, during spring after the thaw. The giant ice sheets that had once blocked the waves melted, allowing for the mischievous waters to stir up trouble. Many of the residents called Spring the season of life and death. Not because of the rebirth after winter, but because of the many lives the ocean rips away every year during this time.

Most residents feared the sea and the turbulent air that came with it during a storm.The ferocity of the wind and the waters beating the coast had caused most residents to hunker down indoors with their shutters closed tight. All except one and a few others as they flew through the forest that hugged the beach.

The beat of hoofs against the forest floor was barely audible through the roar of thunder and howling of the wind, as a group of men wielding torches chased after a shadow. "Don't let him escape!", they cried as they pushed their horses harder, close to their limits.

This was typical behavior of Novean soldiers, as they valued no life equal to or above that of humans. Everything else was subject to slavery or death as they saw fit. A mindset that irked Dracomire to his core. Dracomire, the man being chased, had long grown tired of Novean life and backward thinking.

Even he, who had been dodging them on foot as they rode horseback, valued the lives of other creatures. He, a Draconi, a race that's known for their strength, skill, pride, and most importantly, arrogance. Yet none came close to being as ignorantly elitist as the humans of Novea.

If only his people weren't reduced to near extinction, things would be different. A simple scouting mission wouldn't have resulted in him running for his life. He wouldn't be dodging arrows and crossbow bolts wouldn't be whistling next to his ears.

It had been a routine mission comprising him, his older brother, and a guide. The guide was a pretty maiden, about seventeen years of age, with ashen, willowy hair that flowed down her back and caressed her sun-kissed skin. Her eyes were akin to that of a hawk- sharp black voids that missed nothing. She stood shoulder to shoulder with his brother, Jasper, who was considered anything but small.

Jasper stood massive, well over six feet, with defined muscles and a hulking mass. He was known for being strong as an ox, sturdy and dependable. Jasper was ranked amongst the best among the warriors of the younger generation- second only to their oldest brother Axel. Despite being incredibly skilled, he refused to fight unless he absolutely had to.

Sadly, this was one of those moments. Brandishing his short sword, he skidded to a halt next to Sami, the ashen beauty who was wielding her daggers. Sharp, painful breaths escaped their throats, cutting them like knives. Sweat streamed down their faces, beading off of their clothes sticking to their bodies, mixing with the rainwater. Moonlight glinted against the steel of sharpened blades, reflecting onto the duo's faces with an ominous glow.

Soon the two of them went in opposite directions and got into position. Sami struggled to scale a tree that was being brutally beaten by the wind. The branches seemed to try and shake her off as if they had a will of their own. Eventually, she made it to a high and safe enough location for her to scout their surroundings the best she could, with limited visibility.

The girl looked down at the small mound Jasper was crouched behind, catching his eye. The man nodded and put his ear to the ground. He then looked up at her and mouthed, "thirty seconds", to which she could vaguely make out. Not long after, she could hear the hoofbeats of around a dozen horses, along with a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. Sami shook her head, smiling, "Seems like the kid shook some of them off".

Soon the hoofbeats became louder, and the cursing became less refined. The visage of a young man came into view in the distance, perspiration dripping down his face that was twisted in pain and exhaustion. He was bleeding from his knee and his head as he dodged yet another arrow.

The young man stumbled and rolled on his ankle after jumping over a second, almost falling in the process. This caused another string of curses to fly from his mouth as the pain shot up his legs. Dracomire fought through the pain and stabilized his footing once more before continuing to bolt away from his pursuers.

After about a minute of running, he had gotten close to his comrades' hiding places. Both were ready to spring into action once Dracomire got safely behind them. Even though the young man was part of the mission, he was still a rookie. In Jasper's eyes, Dracomire was not nearly ready for a field assignment. The clumsiness he was showing should be proof enough of this.

"Damn, he's going to get all of us killed", Jasper hissed, getting ready to grab his little brother and literally throw him to safety.

He pinched his nose bridge and growled in annoyance. "Should have forced his ass to stay home". Suddenly, he picked his head up, his eyes widening in shock. The sound of hoofbeats had grown louder, more numerous. Jasper whipped his head around to look at Sami for confirmation, only to become more alarmed.

Sami had a look of horror on her face with her mouth gaping open and her eyes widened in terror. She looked at Jasper and mouthed, "Hounds and Shadow Knights". Terror seeped into Jasper's core, causing his hands to shake and he almost dropped his weapon.

He whipped back around and screamed at his brother, breaking cover, "Book it, boy! Unless you want to be puppy chow !"

Dracomire almost faltered into shock at the sudden yell. The plan was for Sami and Jasper to stay hidden while he lured the enemies into an ambush, so why was his brother breaking cover? Curious, he turned around and soon wished he didn't.

Behind the dozen guards that had been chasing him were five knights clad in black armor. They were riding pure black horses, also clad in black armor, with large crimson wolves running beside them. To make matters worse, they were galloping at full speed and would overtake the guard in a matter of seconds.

Dracomire cursed his luck and against the screaming protest of his lungs and body, he put himself into overdrive. He soon met up with Sami and Jasper, who then joined him in fleeing. Sami was the fastest amongst them and was far ahead of them in about a minute. Jasper seemed determined to keep pace with his baby brother until Dracomire kicked him in his leg, urging him to run ahead.

Dracomire knew he was the slowest among them, it was a fact well known amongst the group. Which was probably why Jasper almost threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Dracomire wouldn't let him though, it would slow him down and get them both killed, or worse. Captured, and being a prisoner in Novea is a fate worse than death.

Fate did not seem to be on his side, unfortunately. His foot snagged a raised root, causing him to crash onto the ground. His already injured knee fractured on impact, eliciting an agonized scream. The scream caused his brother to turn around and run back until Dracomire stopped him.

"Don't! Leave me, get back to dad with the information! Go"!

Jasper looked at Dracomire with a conflicted expression. Tears were threatening to escape his eyes. His fists were clenched as he opened his mouth to yell. "Don't fight them! Stay alive and keep your mouth shut!"

Dracomire nodded and struggled to stand. He kept eye contact with Jasper until the latter broke it by turning around and running away. The young man tried his hardest to keep back tears as he fought through the pain and turned around with his hands up.

Not more than a minute had passed when the Knights showed up with their hounds, commanding them not to attack. The guards showed up right after and got off of their horses. One of them grabbed a rope and barked at Dracomire, "On your knees, filth"!

Complying, Dracomire fought the urge to roll his eyes as he lowered onto his knees. He cursed the man in his head as he was pushed face-first into the dirt and his hands were bound behind his back. Anger boiled up inside of him as he felt a glob of spit land on him before he was hoisted up onto the back of a horse.

"Well, at least they didn't place me towards the back end", he thought to himself as a guard got onto the horse behind him.

"Let's get this trash to interrogation quickly. That way we can get some ale at the pub, Olga's closes early today," the supposed leader of the hunting group grumbled.

"Who's this bastard calling trash? Has he smelt himself lately?", Dracomire had the urge to jump off of the horse and jump kick the bastard off of his mount.

Throughout the entire exchange, the Shadow Knights did not utter a single word. They just turned around and led the group out of the forest, their unholy hounds keeping pace beside them. The air stank of a wet dog as the rain continued to come down in sheets.

The ride back through the forest was eerily quiet, especially after the commotion that occurred earlier. The only difference was that their path was not going towards the town in the distance, but the cliff face.

"Oh, holy hell. They're not gonna toss me off of there, are they?" Dracomire chuckled nervously to himself as the wind whipped his wet hair around erratically. As they got closer to the cliff face, the wind got more intense. A cold mist of sea spray was constantly blown into their faces.

About three yards away from the edge of the cliff, the men dismounted their horses as the knights rode back towards the town. They seemed to only be there to escort him properly and without interference. Dracomire watched them ride away before he felt the air drop out of his stomach. He had been pulled rudely off of the horse, causing him to hit the ground hard on his side. The impact caused the pain in his knee to awaken with a vengeance, and he did everything to keep from screaming.

The guard he rode with gave him little time to recuperate before yanking him onto his feet, putting more pressure on his injury. This time Dracomire could not hold back his curse, earning him a swift backhand. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth as he threw daggers with his eyes at the man.

"Watch your gaze beast ", the man shoved him towards the cliff, causing panic to shoot through him as he lost balance. Fortunately, another guard grabbed him before he got too close to the edge.

"Don't kill it, you idiot. We need information!" the guard bracing him bellowed.

Dracomire's eyes narrowed in annoyance, "It? I'm a person you bastards". He growled back, only to have nails dig into a cut on his arm.

The guard holding him smirked at the flicker of pain that flashed across his features. "A person? I don't see it, beast".

With that, they pushed him towards a flight of stairs carved into the rock of the cliff. The group carefully made their descent down the slippery terrain, trying to keep from falling to their deaths. After about five minutes of walking, they finally made it to their destination.

In front of them was a dark cave with iron bars and a door. One guard brought out a set of skeleton keys from his belt. He then stuck a key into an ancient lock and turned it with a bit of difficulty. Finally, with a loud clank, the door screeched open.

Dracomire was then roughly pushed into the makeshift cell, causing him to fall onto his knees once again. He was tired of this crap. The guards cackled as a hiss of pain escaped his lips and they high-fived each other.

"Good work, we got him, boys. Hey, beastie, enjoy your stay at Novea's premium Cliffside Resort. You'll be having an extended stay," they cackled once more and soon the sound of footsteps faded into the distance as they walked back up the stairs.

"I'm going to rip that bastard's throat out", Dracomire growled, venom seeping into his voice and into his heart

As the old wind and sea spray blew against the cliff and into the cave, there was a figure stirring in the choppy waves below. A pretty young lady with sapphire hair was looking up at the cliffs with her large and round turquoise eyes. Her pale arms rested on a rock to keep her afloat as the sea beat against her body and tried to carry her with the current. A deep cyan tail cut steadily through the water, fighting against the raging current.

Her lips were a lovely gradient of red, pink on the outside, and crimson in the middle. They were enchanting as they rested full and pouty on her delicate face. The girl's lips parted with a smile as she whispered softly, "How interesting".