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“Caelestius!”

The panicked roar rose up from the gates of the huge marble castle. A tall werewolf stood outside them, one of his arms limp at his side, blood dripping down the length of it and dropping of the tips in a puddle at his feet. There was an ugly bruise across the right side of his face and his shoulder length black hair was clumped with blood.

His vision blurred and darkened and he swayed on his feet. He pounded on the gates and his ears rang faintly with the boom his fists created. His breath was coming out in ragged uneven pants and it was obvious he had run a long way, and quick. Being a werewolf, he was pretty much bred to last a long time, but not with this much stress.

His legs folded at the knees and he crumpled to the ground. His vision started to blacken again as his eyelids grew heavy and he could feel every once of strength leave his limbs as the darkness started to tug at his mind.

The scrape of the opening gates sounded distant to the man on the ground, as if it came from a TV in the next room where the volume was turned low. He vaguely heard a gasp and feet patting across the flagstone covered ground, and that too seemed far away.

“Schutz! Jupiter, vhat happened to you? Schu…”

The worried voice drifted through the empty halls of the black haired man’s subconscious and the last thing he could remember was the feeling of lean, yet incredibly strong arms scooping him up off the ground.



A sweet, alluring smell filled the werewolf’s nose, soon followed by the sensation of laying on a cloud, every ache and pain of his tired body completely forgotten. The pure bliss of the moment made a faint smile twist over his lips, but then he frowned.

The smell was so familiar, but… he couldn’t place it. It was like one of those frustrating moments when you knew there was something you should be able to name, but no matter how much you thought you couldn’t place it. He furrowed his brow and thought for a few minutes, then a smile spread over his lips.

Moon Lilies.

That was what the smell belonged to. He shifted and slowly opened his eyes, missing the sight of the beautiful flowers, but with a sharp whimper he let them snap shut again, a seemingly blinding light shining in his eyes.

Several things happened almost all at once after that. First, a splitting headache erupted in his skull and it felt like his brains were trying to force their way out of his head. Then, he felt pain lancing through every part of his body, from his neck down, a particularly nasty throb coming from the leg he’d broken about 20 years back. That was followed by a hand on his shoulder and a cool, wet cloth placed on his forehead that almost immediately soothed the headache, but that was about it.

He whimpered and shifted away from the contact but the pain seemed to increase tenfold and he let out an agonized scream, then a gasp as he suddenly found himself immobile.

“You need to stay still,” a kind, yet exasperated and exhausted voice said. It seemed to come from the direction of the arm that was holding him down now. “It’s only going to hurt verse if you keep moving, Schutz.”

The werewolf whimpered again, but slowly opened his eyes. The right one was covered, now, with the wet cloth and he could feel the water dripping down his skin, but the blinding light was gone. With his open left eye, he saw a benignant face looking down at him.

The face belonged to a tall elf with silver blonde hair that cascaded over the creature’s shoulders in a waterfall of soft silky tresses. Being an elf, he had a rather feminine face and long, pointed ears and even though his lean body was wrapped in a loose silk robe, you could tell he was male. His eyes were worried, an ice blue, and wise from old age, but he didn’t look a day over 22.

“Vh...Vha-…” Schutz shook his head slightly but it began throbbing again and closed his eyes. “How long have I been unconscious?” The pressure keeping him down lifted, along with the elf’s hand, but the werewolf remained still. The scent of Moon Lilies suddenly got a lot stronger and he took a deep breath of it. It obviously calmed him.

“About a veek,” the kindly voice of the elf said from the chair he was seated in. “I healed as much as I could, but vhatever the hell you got into…” He paused and shook his head. “I couldn’t heal all of it so I just bandaged vhat was left and I’m brewing a potion for the pain vright now.”

Schutz could feel the cold cloth press harder on his hot brow and made a soft noise, forcing the tension out of his body again. He opened his mouth to thank the elf, but before he could the graceful creature interrupted him.

“Vhat happened to you?” The elf sounded completely serious now, “I know you didn’t go and piss of a vampire again; they vouldn’t have done this. Vhat did you do?”

Schutz bit back an angry retort and opened his eyes to look at the elf.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said hotly. He had an accent as well, but not as thick as that of the silvery haired man leaning over him. “I vas headed towards Drac’s for a drink but I vran into some hoomans on the vay. They did this to me and said they vere doing it for a man named Diavlos vas coming and vas going to vipe out the non-hoomans.”

The elf, who was the Caelestius Schutz had been yelling for before he passed out, made a small noise at the name Diablos, and Schutz could see him stiffen. Schutz raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Are you sure they said Viablos?” The elf asked, and when Schutz nodded he let out a growl and stood abruptly, turning sharply on his heel and stalking out of Schutz’ limited view.

“Caelestius?” Schutz said confusedly, actually sounding confused and worried. He tried to sit up to keep his eyes on Caelestius, but forgot his wounds. He let out another yell at the pain that raced through his body again and shuddered harshly, whimpering, pulling himself into a ball instinctively then letting out another soft cry.

Caelestius turned around quickly again as he heard the pained noises Schutz made and hurried to the bedside. He tugged his sleeves up to expose his elegant, long fingered hands and placed one on Schutz’ shoulders and the other on one of his hips. He closed his eyes and murmured something, and a chill spread through the werewolf’s body, numbing him to the bone.

The black-haired man shivered harshly, but made a small relieved sound when the pain receded.
With Caelestius’ help, he shifted back into the position he was previously in. The sympathy was back in the elf’s eyes and he murmured a soft apology, settling himself back in the chair beside the cloud soft bed in which Schutz lay. It didn’t feel nearly as comfortable as it did when the werewolf had been in that pre-wake state.


“You know him then?” Schutz asked after a few moments. It was obvious who he was talking about.

Caelestius was silent for a few minutes, then nodded slightly and gazed across the room towards a vase full of Moon Lilies. “Vell… I do not personally know him, no, but I have heard of hem.” He let out a long breath. “You have heard of Sedvana, no?”

Schutz nodded.

“Vell, he vas the vone who started the var there. He hated non-hoomans so much he decided to evadicate them. You probably know he failed but I don’t phink he vill here.
“On Sedvana, everyvone vas close, but here there are so many difverant cities and kings and vraces… Ve aren’t as closely knit as the Sedvanans are. My bet is he attacks each major group individully then goes after whoever’s left.”

Schutz listened to Caelestius, then shook his head.

“Ever since I van avay from Pursida I’ve made a lot of friends,” Schutz said, “I’m sure I could pull them together vith Ruvus leading Pursida.”

Caelestius shook his head slightly.

“That may be… but how long vould it take to convince them?” he asked, his eyes dancing slightly at the chance to think tactically as he was now. “Vhat if they don’t believe you unteel they have lost men? And how vill you go about doing var vith Viablos? By the time you convince the others he may vell have recruited every hooman he can get to and have spread his territory over much of the land.”

Schutz frowned and furrowed his brow slightly. “It’s a risk I’ll have to take,” he finally said, “If ve vant to have any chance at all of beating him, ve’ll have to do everything ve can to stop him.”

Caelestius nodded slowly. “You’re vright,” he said, “And I’ve friends from other vorlds who vill help as vell.” After a pause, he said, “Tell me vhat happened to you before you got here.”

Schutz looked at the elf, looking uneasy at the idea of having to recount what happened to him. He let out a sigh before beginning to talk.

“Like I said,” he began, “I vas on my vay to Drac’s town. I vran into vone of them on the road. He didn’t look like he vanted to kill me so I vent over to heem and started talking to him. It didn’t take that long for me to realize he vas just a scout for them though.

“They all attacked so fast I couldn’t fend them off and they dragged me off to their camp vhere they gave me all these vonderful vounds. Most of them vore black armour and spoke in an odd-“ He stopped and corrected himself, realizing who he was with; there are no odd languages, only those we don’t understand. “-a language I don’t know.”

“Vere you the only vone they caught?” Caelestius asked. Schutz shook his head.

“No,” he answered. “They had about 5 others and most of them vere vampires.”

Caelestius took this in and nodded, standing with that inhuman grace of an elf. “I’ll be vright bahck,” he said, “Stay still; the numbness should be vearing off soon.” And on that note, he turned and practically glided out of the room.



I'll be adding more as I type it... Maybe... I don't really know about anything any more.

Naww poor Schutz D= *hugs him gently* I like it so far though, you should keep going. 83

Very, very nice dearrrrr C: If you need anyone created or if you need one of mine, you let me know.

This is absolutely AMAZING.

God I envy you and your writing skills~

Keep it up honey, I'm really interested now. I'd love to hear more!




Lovelove~

I must say, this is one of the better stories I have read in a while. It is easy to see that you have writing talent; everything is there - characters, personalities, descriptions (although I do believe you could be more descriptive around environmental areas), plot... I must say, well done.

As for the story itself, I gather it is more or less vampires vs werewolves vs humans, though I'm not certain yet - only one and a half chapter is released (;]). Regardless, the setting is not very original, but that is how you make the story appeal to your readers - more specifically: me - and you take something that has always been written about and will always be written about and made it your own. That is a good thing, I tell you.
I like your characters too; Schutz and Caelestius really make a good character pairing (in other essences of the word) with their different personalities, yet somewhat similar accent. What I am curious about, though, is - entirely out of mythologicalinterest - the werewolves as they are/will be portrayed. Will they be susceptible to sunlight? Will you follow the traditional myth of Werewolves being transformed humans during full moon, or will you create your own sort-of 'myth' in the story? I look forward to seeing what steps you will take from this point on.


On the grammar and spelling side on the issue, there is much too little for me to pick on; your grammatical abilities are excellent and so is your typing.


So far, so good. Looking forward to see how the story develops.

*beams* <333 thank you everyone! Especially Wolflux <333 And yeah... I've never been to good about the whole enviromental descriptions... I shall work on it the rest of the school year. *determined face*

Chapter 2:



An angry, pained screech that could only belong to a vampire echoed from just beyond the tree line of the clearing Diablos’ men had set up camp in. Schutz had been right about them taking others, and now they had added several more to their collection.

The sun had set by now, but the camp was lit with bright, artificial lights that were painful to the eyes of the vampires and the werewolves, who were unaccustomed to their harsh, unnatural light.

There were several rows of two different types of tents. The first type seemed to be just long, wide tarps tossed over a line strung up between two trees. The three tents of this fashion were filled with cages, which in turn were filling with male and female vampires, and even a lone green-haired elf.

The other type of tents were more fit to live in, saved for the humans themselves. They appeared rather comfortable, each of them having four bunks and whatever else the humans had brought with them.


Another shriek came from the trees, this time angry. The blood-sucker who was creating the ruckus was chained by the neck to a tree, with only enough lee-way to move about 10’ away from the thick trunk of the tree.

His hair was such dark brown that it appeared black at first glance and when it was wet, like now. Some of the strands were matted together with sweat and blood, waving loosely in his face and seeming to emphasize the feral look in his eyes.

A snarl vibrated in his throat as he glared up at the human looking above him. He bore his silver coated fangs, which flashed in the moon light filtering down through the rustling leaves.


In vampire speak, baring your fangs meant, “You’re pissing me off. Stop or else I’ll rip out your throat.” It was defiantly a challenge, but sometimes if two vampires bared their fangs, a fight could be stopped before it even started.

Say, for example, a vampire has large, golden, or silver fangs, his or her opposition may back down: The bigger fangs you have, the more powerful you are. If you have gold fangs, you’re either of noble blood, or friends of noble blood. And if you have silver fangs, you’re basically the toughest kid on the block. Usually the only vampires to mess with those with silver-fanged vampires are other silver fanged vampires, or those who are 100 percent certain they can over power them.


The vampire was half crouched on the ground, half propped against the tree he was chained to, having been shoved down by the human who was wearing armour on his hands and arms.

The man on the ground snarled deeply and started to get to his feet, but let out a sharp yelp as a hold, hard, armoured hand slapped across his face, slamming him to the ground.

He distinctly heard the bones in the side of his face that was struck snap, and gave a loud scream that was sure to travel a good few miles and ring in the ears of the humans. He could feel hot, bloody tears surge to his eyes as the burning, throbbing pain spread rapidly to his whole head, and whimpered faintly at feeling a few of his teeth dislodged.

The smell of the cool grass and his own blood and the horrid smell of the human himself filled the vampire’s nose and he grimaced, but glared weakly up at the man, although the growl in his throat had been silenced, replaced now with a faint whimper. But, still defiant and abit angry the other had rearranged his face, he started to rise to his feet, but before he could get all the way up a barb whip lashed across his face and he gasped, flinching away and stumbling back, only to slide down the tree.

Within a few minutes, the vampire was whimpering and tugging desperately at the chain, trying to get away from the human and blood dripping from numerous lacerations on his chest, arms and the couple on his legs.

The human, a tall, cruel looking blonde, smirked as he watched the vampire and coiled the whip at his hip, moving forward and yanking the chain off of the tree and shoving the vampire ahead of him in the direction of the camp.

The stench of scared and angry vampires hung in the air like a thick, bitter cloud and the subdued dark haired vampire shuddered harshly, trying to make himself small. He stumbled as the human pushed him forward, his eyes flicking over the dirty, somewhat torn canvas tents, quickly moving away whenever he found the gaze of a human.

With a small cry, he let the man shove him into one of the tents and down the row of cages to one that was open and empty. There were cages on both sides, and the one the vampire was shoved into was across from that green-haired elf, who was sitting huddled in a corner. He didn’t pay it much mind as his eyes snapped back to the human, who slammed the barred door in his face and promptly left again.

The dejected vampire crossed the small cage uneasily and sank down the wall closest to the side of the tent, his weary red eyes flicking over the cages, although his right eye was beginning to swell shut as the rest of his face became swollen. His eyes hovered on the elf, who was curled up in a corner with it’s face in it’s knees, but found it disinteresting and let his eyes pan over the rest of the tent, wincing harshly as pain lanced down his neck whenever he moved his head.

The beast in the cage to his left shifted over to the wall separating them.

“MJ,” he said, a brief, curt introduction. “You okay?”

The vampire didn’t look, but nodded slightly then stopped. He sniffed the air slightly, identified the other as a werewolf, and instinctively shifted away from the wall slightly. He knew he would be able to speak even if he wanted, so he closed his eyes with a wince and opened his mind, pressing a trendil of thought into the werewolf’s mind that would allow them to communicate.

They both winced harshly; more then just words were exchanged through mental links like that.

You would be able to feel almost anything the person you were communicating with felt.

Yeah, the vampire replied weakly, Varenas… I’d say it was nice to meet you, MJ, despite the circumstances but I think you’d know that was a lie.

The werewolf, MJ, heard the vampire’s thoughts loud and clear, but chose instead to continue talking through his mouth. “I know how you feel,” he said. He was a tall, able-bodied man with long shaggy black hair and once bright amber eyes that were now dull. “Is your face okay?”

The vampire knew the werewolf was only trying to be sensitive, but a flare of anger flashed through their mental connection none the less and he turned away, murmuring a mental apology for the way he reacted.

It hurts, he replied, his voice oddly weaker then he expected it to be. You try having a human smash your face in. The bitterness was thick in the vampire’s mental voice, and it took him a few moments to realize the bloody tears that had been gathering in his eyes were rolling down his cheeks. He made a small noise when he realized this and squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to cry regardless of the situation and having a hard time stopping one of his hands from reaching up to wipe away the tears.

“Vampire,” a voice said from opposite the brown haired blood-sucker. “Vaneras.” The voice sounded like that of a man who hadn’t spoken in a while, soft and hoarse.

Vaneras weakly lifted his left eye(his right one was swollen by this point), looking up to see the speaker was that elf in the cage opposite himself. Even though the elf was sitting up now, it was still hard to tell what gender it was. Hard, but not impossible.

It was a male, and his hair was a pale mossy green. At one time it had been long, but now it was cropped cruelly to his shoulders.

BY THE WAY: You'll have to forgive me if I randomly leave off on a line somewhere; I tend to do that sometimes.

I have to say, Ado my dearest, this is one of your best works so far. Your characters are really good in this one, well-characterized and there was very little for me to redline. C:

And now...

[fangirl]

MJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJMJ NNNNNNNNNRRRRRRGH.

[/fangirl]

Anxiously awaiting moar, dearest!

Hm... not bad ^^

The plot's not exactly my style, but I like it.

And your grammar.. You know English!

BBYYYY

DIS IS AMAZINS

I love it, and I love you, and I love this, and I want thissss

you need to publish your work. Heck yesss I would read it~~