T'was a bright morning when I awoke with the glimmer of fairydust warming me cheek. Me dreams were angels wings carrying me through a cloudless sky of peaceful slumber. But soft wistful dreams were soon forgotten for what I at first mistook for fairy dust on me cheek, was really the scorching breath of a dragon! His blazing red eyes devoured me with hunger. Within those black merciless eyes was a single dancing flame that was both hypnotic and frightening.
With increasing terror, I left from me bed. In one swirling motion, I managed to cover me naked bosom with a cloak in one hand and to tear me spell book from the night table with the other. But the dragon's fiery resolve was immense, for without warning, he raised one gnarled claw and pinned me slender body against the wall. At the same instant, he expelled a sound so vile, so evil, that me very heart threatened to burst form me chest and run for cover.
Me spell book fell to the wooden floor with a heavy thump as I screamed the scream of a thousand liches, and struggled for me freedom. But to no avail. He was as strong as he was fearsome, and ugliness touched not only his face, but also his heart. For the louder I cried, the louder he roared. I could feel the blistering heat of the beat his heart beneath the grey armor that was his skin. It felt as though all of the deamons in Hythloth were living within this contemptuous winged breast. As I felt the last of me strength draining from me body, I dropped me head to me chest in defeat. And t'was then I knew that the great Avatar must have been watchin' o'er me head, for on the floor, my spell book was turned to the page that foretold this creature's desctruction. Me book was open to the spell of Kas Flam Des Ylem, the Meteor Shower!
As the meteors engulfed me captor in unforgiving flames, I dashed to make a hasty escape through me bedroom door, but alas, my passage was blocked by a strange lord of upon whom I ne'er before laid eyes. His mouth was turned upward in a satisfied grin that ignited an excited spark in each of his darkening eyes. The heat from me burning foe licked at me back, but I cringed from this man in spite of meself. "What do ye want from me, ye fiend??!!" I yelled in a quivering voice. "What?" He only stood with his sword in hand, tip resting on the floor. "I have not any wares that be worth anything to ye, of that I am sure. But ye are welcome to all that ye may find. Please just leave me be."
"Murderer," was his only reply to my plea.
I glanced o'er me shoulder at the remains of the winged dragon, "Ye mean him?? He meant to kill me, he did. I was merely protectin' me self, I was."
"HA!" He bellowed with obviously false merriment. "Ye need no protectin' me dear, of THAT I am sure."
"I know not of what thy speaks, sir. Ye would have to be a sightless man not to see that thy beast was unwelcome in me home."
"Oh," says he, "he was not my beast milady, and tis not of him that I speak." With that, he tilted his head in the most gentile manner, as if to beg me pardon! I took meself a moment to gather me bearings, so to speak and said, "I shall be needin' some privacy now, to put meself together. I do apologize for the beast, whosever he may be, and ye may be on yer way."
With that his face grew dark, and a sinister air befell him. Before I knew what was happening, his sword was at me throat. The cold metal sent an icy finger down me back. I stared into his empty eyes, and thought him a madman. Surely he can't mean to murder me in me own home?! For no reason t'all?
"Leave me be!" I screamed. "Guards! Guards! There is a murderer in me villa! HELP!"
"Of that, I am certain, miss," he hissed, "only t'is you who are the murderer."
"If thee not speak of the dragon, then I know not of what thee accuse."
"The dragon, mi'lady, belongs to me brother, he mourned his master's death, and tracked his murderer by her scent. That, me dear, is what lead the two of us to thy doorstep."
"You're a madman! I have killed no on! I am a Glorious Lady, surely you have heard of me name throughout Brittania!"
I knew of nothing that could have brought this deamon to me door, but I scanned the room for a weapon of defense. Just then I heard the clatter of the guards' footfalls charging up me stairs, thank the merciful Avatar! Me uninvited guest heard them as well, and spun around in a rage, screaming, "Ye are too evil to be jailed, ye must be killed, Ye must pay penance in hell for me brother's demise!"
With tears streamin' down his face, he twisted me arm behind me back and pressed the sword deeper into me flesh.
"Speak his name ye wench, speak his name! Ye should die with his name on thy venomous lips."
"I know not of whom thy speak, mi'lord. I swear it on me mother's soul to hell as well as thine own!"
As the guards burst into the room to save me, he was momentarily distracted, and I used this for me own preservation. Bending me leg at the knee and lifting is swiftly straight up, I managed to connect with his personals, where only a lord is vulnerable. He dropped like a drunken ogre and I seized his sword from his loosened grip. I then plunged its silver tip deep into his heart.
The guards screamed, "Step away slowly mi'lady. STEP AWAY!"
I thought they must fear for me safety, so I assured them, "I'll be fine now, mi'lords. Thank ye for yer swift arrival."
I felt pity on him. His lips curled in an attempt to speak.
And his last river of blood released from his lifeless mouth to the wooden planks on me bedroom floor.
Vancelot! Surely he did not speak the name of me lover! Surely me lover is still breathin' the sweet air of Trammel, where I left him last evenin'. Me heart began to pound, and I could hear the sound rushing in me ears like an ocean. The guards were still screamin' for me to step away from the body. Visions of me last moments with Vancelot began swirlin' in me head. All was becoming clearer to me now, and I stepped around the decaying corpse of me lover's brother and met with a guardsman's sword.
"You are under arrest for murder."
I reached for me spellbook, but the guard was too swift, and buried his sword within me breast. As I fell to the floor, I caught me face in the reflection glass over me desk. I had the mark of a murdered on me head.
Now I wander Brittania a murderous ghost, unable to be resurrected for me horrible deeds in life. I loved me Vancelot, I did. But upon returning from my two day quest for Elwood McCarrin, I found him with that wench, Saurus, in bed. I lost meself, and drained his blood in Trammel and floated home on the Wings of an Angel.
A Dark Angel I suppose.