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Celera slid along the passage behind Bliss and Yula, not revealing herself. Refusing to reveal herself. At least they weren't very fast, so she wouldn't lose them. There was that. But she was beginning to feel the first twinges of fear. The wind spoke to her, telling her of blood and death and pain. The stone around her, when touched, told a tale of the liquids soaking into its surface, the pounding against it as feet ran, as traps activated and crushed and maimed and destroyed. It was horrid, beyond words. Celera never stopped to consider that she would likely have enjoyed watching this if it were she herself doing it.

Then the voice spoke to her again. The voice of the gentle Goddess she saw in her dreams. The voice soothed her, calming her nerves, telling her it would be all right. It must be all right. She had been chosen, she had been given this power, she was meant to live. And unless she made a careless mistake, she WOULD live. Unlike those that had already died. She smiled gently, feeling warm in the light of the beautiful lady whose true appearance she could never see. Celera would be the winner of this contest. There was no doubt. As long as these two went before her, she could not possibly set off a trap, not as long as she followed their actions exactly. And even were a trap to activate... she would be ready. She would protect herself.



The young archer, Ein, was still crawling down a tunnel; fire crackled along the head of one of his arrows, now, and he used this as a torch. There had been snakes, and those were scary. He'd had to stab them instead of shoot them since there was no room. Rats were scary too, he'd done the same thing. But he was afraid there might be something worse down here. Or that the banging sounds he heard sometimes from the other side of the wall were coming for him. That guy at the entrance had said there were traps. And the trap in this tunnel would shut him off and cut off his air and make him choke to death. Or pour boiling water or oil in so that he would drown and burn at the same time. Or just drop the ceiling on him so the rats could eat his face.

Ein cried now, tears rolling down his face as he crawled. "I-I wanna get out... I'm scared... I don't wanna die here, in the dark... it's not fair..."

Oh, this glorious hunt was quickly coming to a close! He'd quickly assaulted the prey, his weighty lion self easily holding down the Assassin's arms. He'd only been on the prowl for a few minutes, and his prey was already succumbing! He hadn't hunted like this in years. So many long, long years. But finally, the King of Beasts was truly such again! Finally, the Lion would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies! Finall-

What was that?

Baldric felt a slight irritation in his rear, as if a small itch had grazed his thick hide. Looking back, he saw... another human! Ah, another serving of dinner! This hunt was proving more rewarding than ever before! Ah, but he had one of those slabs of iron, like most puny humans did! Baldric couldn't very well get the next prey with one of those between the hunter and his meal, now could he? This just would not do, no it wouldn't! So, the gears of his feral mind began to turn, to mechanize some terrible scheme. In an instant, a beorc's logic echoed through his mind. If he wanted to kill this swordsman, he needed to get a weapon!

Nimbly, the lion removed himself from Kane's chest, making sure to run across his chest and stomach as he moved. Since a creature can't very well escape when it's gasping for air, he had enough time. In a quick, clean motion, Baldric closed his mouth down around Kane's neck, the rest of the Assassin's body between the two. If the mute could scream, he most definitely would have been by now. Furious at the interruption, Baldric whipped his head towards Ruben, using Kane as a makeshift club.

Of course, he never would have expected his prey to skewer himself on the other man's sword! Ah, this worked marvelously! The Assassin began to leak blood from both his chest, where the sword was protruding, from his mouth, since he was bleeding above the neck already, and from the neck itself, where the lion's maw was clamped. This was just such a marvelously spontaneous stroke of luck! So random, in fact, the Lion dubbed this a lesson that should be taught to the beorc children: weapons are very, very bad! They can accidentally kill people! In an effort to show this lesson to the man with the sword, he gave the Assassin's neck another jerk, effectively breaking it, if the first swing didn't, and pulling Ruben's sword straight from his hands! It wasn't like he'd be able to use it, anyway, what with another human covering the blade like some sort of meat sheath! Now that Kane was taken care of, Baldric heaved his corpse forward, spraying Ruben with the man's jugular's blood as it landed lifelessly on the now blood-stained tile.

With one part of the meal ready for eating, the other human was all that remained! And he was without that sheet of iron to defend himself! In a powerful leap, Baldric tackled poor Ruben, slamming the one-footed-wonder easily to the ground like a human domino! Just like moments ago, with Kane, Baldric stared a fiery stare into Ruben's very core. That stupid human should have known better than to interfere with the King of Beasts, and now he'd pay the price!

With a victorious snarl, he ripped into the other man's throat, the spatter of blood leaving his already blood-drenched, crimson mane unchanged. As he began eating, a voice in the back of his head calmly whispered that once this meal was done, the next meals would have no way of knowing that he'd already been coated in the blood of his prey, his fuzzy coat a naturally bloody shade of red. So, he tore into the rest of the man as quickly as possible, trying to finish his meal as soon as he was able, so he could move to the impaled Kane, and soon to whatever else wandered this labyrinth. But, he let out a slightly sad whimper as he noticed that one of the meals was missing a foot! That was a good whole bite of food, it was! But, he dismissed it as quickly as he thought of it, the urge to devour his prey in full force.

The smiling assassin was walking down the corridor, lazily but also carefully not to set the trap. Oh, how delightful it was to play in this game. Oh, yes. Indeed, it was. And yet, he wondered how far did those contestants go?

He knew he had killed one. Maybe two, if the lion killed its owner. And still.... He pondered how many were left alive. Not to mention, how many have reached into the heart of the labyrinth? If there were few left, he had to get to the center of the labyrinth. After all, he couldn't wait to... congratulate them. Oh, yes. Indeed, he was.

Suddenly, he heard a grinding noise. The masked man turned to the source of the noise. Up ahead of him, he saw the wall began to open. Leaking from the room where the wall opened were a mixture of blood and liquid. He looked at it for a moment. Then slowly, the menacing grin began to form.

Oh.... What joy! How splendid! Stupendous! Somehow had died in the trap! Wondering how the body turned out, the masked man headed to the room.

There was a large pillar in the way. The grinning assassin went around it, carefully not to step on the blood and acid. He really didn't want to ruin his boots. Oh, no. Indeed, he didn't. The masked man looked around.

Right in front of the levers was the burning corpses. And below the pillar was a body of a horse. There was a bloody cloth underneath too. So, there were two people who died in the trap? Oh, how marvelous! That would be three, maybe four people died in this contest. Oh, how exciting it was! He couldn't help himself from smiling. If he were a teen girl, he would be all giddy from it.

Suddenly, he heard something slamming behind him. The masked man turned around to see that the wall closed him. He pouted.

Oh, pooh. He fell right into the trap. Now, he had to solve the riddle to open it. Oh, how sad it was.

The masked assassin kicked the corpse out of the way and stood in front of the levers. He didn't bother reading the riddle. Why should he when he made it?

The Cheshire man placed both of his hands onto the "A" and "E" levers. He then pulled both at the same time.

There was a grinding noise. However, unlike its previous victims, the noise came from behind. The masked assassin turned around just in time to see the wall opened. He chuckled as he walked around the pillar and out of the room.

It would be foolish of him to be killed in his own game. Oh, yes. Indeed, it would. Twice he had risk his life and twice, he escaped so easily. Oh..... Just how many times did that menacing assassin risk his life? Fifty or more? Oh, no matter. He was having too much fun.

Now, off to the heart of the labyrinth. If he ran into his mole, "Eric", he would ask him to join with him. After all, he didn't want to miss the show. Oh, yes. Indeed, he wouldn't.

Ah, this boy appeared to be quite terror-struck, already! If his mother could see him crawling and crying like a babe as he was now, she'd likely laugh in his face! Serves him right for wandering into crawlspaces in ancient ruins, anyway. Ah, if our friendly, murder-happy jester friend were here, he'd likely have quite the insulting quip to shoot at this boy!

But, of course, saying what others would do does nothing, correct? So, let's turn the all-seeing camera back to poor little Ein, still mucking his way through a crawlspace. Sure, he'd handled rats and snakes, but... was that really all he expected to find? Creepy crawly monster and vermin adored places like that tunnel, as he'd soon see!

skitter skitter skitter skitter skitter

Of course, the frantic little boy heard nothing but the scrapes of his own clothing against the rough rocks and dirt.

skitter skitter skitter skitter skitter

Now, the boy had an eerie, creeping feeling that he was not alone. So, he quickened his pace, eager to get as far from this blasted tunnel as he could!

skitter skitter skitter skitter skitter

He definitely heard it this time, he did! He hurried, hurried, hurried down, down, down the deep, dark, dank tunnel! Oh wait, what's this? The echoing scratches stopped, oh thank the heavens! Little Ein let out a relieved squeal! ...Until he began to fall! Oh, this was absolutely terrible, horrible, deplorable! The boy continued to fall, faster and faster and faster still, until...! He stopped, in midair, no less! Oh, such a fantastic occurrence, it was indeed! Well, at least until his arms began to flail in typical hyper child fashion, but they did not move an inch, oh no!

His arms, his arms, Ein's arms were stuck, strangled, stranded! They were totally tethered to some sort of silvery string, they were indeed!

skitter skitter skitter skitter skitter skitter

Oh no! This is absolutely, bone-chillingly terrible! The noise, it returns! And it's... louder and softer? Why, that made no sense! And what was that noise, anyway?

skitter skitter skitter...!

Oh, that's not SO bad! It's a teeny little spider! It's little legs must have made that noise! Oh, don't worry, Ein, you're safe, I think! Yes, yes, you can breath that sigh of relief, now, it's okay.

skitter skitter skitter skitter...!!!

Wait, no, no it's not! Not okay, not okay! Danger, young Ein, danger, danger! The dimly lit room slowly became brihgter and brighter, at least in one spot! Small, shiny little circles coming closer, closer, closer still! They glowed a pale green, that they did! A nice, leafy green color, too! Reminded little Ein of his homelands in Adliana, they did! Well, until they got just a little bit closer!

A bael. A large, mommy, Elder Bael! Crawling across the wall towards you! Would you look at that luck, little Ein! Oh, but of course, you already are! The boy's gaze sat transfixed on the creature's slathering fangs, their erratic motions nearly hypnotic to the curious boy! Until he realized what he was looking at, that is!

As soon as the boy began to open his mouth to scream, the creature moved closer and closer, like some sort of ominous grimace in the shade of night! Fear struck his very heart, it did, it did, and he could scream no more! As the terror set in, the tiny, baby Bael began crawling ever so carefully, ever so delicately, down the wall, down to the web, letting out a few shrill squeaks of enjoyment. It and its mommy caught some prey, they did! If the little one were a human child, it'd be brimming with glee and and pride, indeed it would! But, we have a child here already! Little Ein, what would you be doing in this situation, I must ask?

With no one ahead of him and no one following behind him, Acteon was comfortably assured that no one would follow his own underhanded tactics as he pulled himself onto the saddle of Bellerophon, steadying the stallion when he shook his head and snorted once in protest. The white beast beneath him clopped his hooves uneasily on the stone that was still slick with Jen's blood, pawing at the ground to get the worst of it off before finally sitting relatively still.

Acteon had waited a few minutes after the thrashing eels had ceased their convulsions, giving his ears a few moments of silence. No footsteps echoed behind him, and the deep sound of a bestial roar was far off; no one, as far as he could tell, was close to him or his mount. It wasn't that he was afraid that someone would try to ambush and kill him; that was the least of his concerns, quite frankly, with the plethora of traps he had heard Jen deal with. Now, with no one to take the brunt of the traps' attacks, it was up to him to face them on his own.

He was now the bait.

"...Come on, boy." Turning his mount to the side so that only Bellerophon's left eye peered out over the chasm, he let his winged steed do all of the calculations for him- in this narrow place, he needed to let the beast do its own flying. After all, Bellerophon knew his own body best, despite all claims by Pegasus knights the world over- the knights, more often than not, left the most dangerous of stunts to their steeds. While they would guide their winged companions into their respective dives, twists, and twirls, ultimately it was up to the mounts to get them all through alive.

While Bellerophon stared out with his left eye, he shut his right- a habit almost uniquely his own. As with all of his kind, his forehead was flat and sloped, his eyes nearly on either side- this made it easy for them to spot incoming fliers and arrows and dodge with ease, but absolutely destroyed depth perception. With one eye shut, the double vision in front became one clear, crisp image; though some distortion was inevitable, the results made for a much more confident flight.

Backing up a few steps, he let Acteon signal him, charging forward at the urging of his master's heels and opening his wings wide. Though the fit was tight, Bellerophon galloped into the air, his strong legs lending the power of flight to his gliding wings as they flew over the chasm that had spelled Jen's untimely death. The eels below seemed to realize that the passing shadows always meant food; despite their safe landing, Acteon shuddered to hear them thrashing and failing about again, fighting for food that would never land in their greedy jaws.

Once across the chasm, there was a sudden fork... each way looked as if some reprieve lay at the end of their respective paths, with light shining out at the ends. Fighting the surge of victorious arrogance that threatened to well up in his chest, Acteon instead shook his head, reaching into the saddlebag and taking out a large ball of medicinal cloth. The cotton-based weave was dense, and made even more so by the herbal remedies that had been rubbed into the cloth- likewise, the goop that helped his wounds also held the ball together. It was dense, it moved great when tossed, and it was perfect for what he was going to try.

If he guessed right, he wouldn't need this, anyway.

Reaching his arm back as far as he could, he turned to the left, throwing the ball as far down the hall as he could manage.

Immediately, there was a whistling sound as dozens of arrows flew from the walls to pierce the medicinal ball, nearly juggling it in the air from the sheer multitude of arrows and tearing it to shreds even before it touched the floor. Almost as if adding insult to injury, the cloth literally burst into flame as it touched the stones below, the tiles growing red-hot with surprising speed and ferocity. Frightened by this sudden noise and violence, Bellerophon reared suddenly, shrieking his fright as he backed into the hall that had once been to their right.

Acteon could not stop his frightened mount, and cringed- his lip shook as he bit it and a wordless whimper escaped his lips as he expected to be promptly dismembered by some other twisted trap. However... with the proper path taken, nothing seemed to rush out at them. No axes rushed through the air, no arrows threatened death, no levers of doom. Just a short hallway, leading into a courtyard of sorts that promised the light of day once again. Almost as if sensing the change, Bellerophon quickly turned, rushing out into this more open area and relishing the feeling of sunlight on his wings once again.

The room was large- the ceiling was higher than he ever expected to see. From the depths of the earth, this room seemed to expand well above the surface. Acteon marveled at the sheer height of it all- he hadn't realized how far down they'd come until this. There were holes, large ones in the upper walls, that seemed oddly out of place. They let in the light, assuredly, but something about them looked odd. He couldn't place it- and, quite frankly, he didn't really feel like it. If this was the winner's circle, he did it! He could relax, now.

...Or, at least, he tried to.

Squi-- CRACK.

"Shreee!"

Bellerophon reared again with a hoarse screech as his hoof smashed onto a small, bloody mess- a slippery patch of earth colored scales was nearly smeared into the floor as his hooves backed onto a small creature's decapitated form, smashing the bones beneath his weight. It was all Acteon could do to grasp the reigns and look about him, suddenly realizing that his eyes should have been on the floor, rather than the ceiling. All around him, signs of death were still there.

Wyverns.

Dwarfish little wyverns lay strewn about, cut to pieces by what looked like fine steel. Their tails were barbed, like an enlarged bee's stinger, and still dripped with their deadly venom- the indigenous wyverns here were vicious beasts, indeed. Though much smaller than their domesticated cousins, their horns were perfect for the kill, arched forward in such a way that they could skewer their prey with them while they stabbed their prey's flesh with their tail and tore at it with their sharp claws. They had only one pair of legs, and their wings were short and rounded; perfectly designed for short bursts of quick, accurate flight. The reptiles' scales were a mottled series of browns, greens, and blacks, perfect for blending in with the undergrowth. While their necks were shorter than those seen elsewhere in the world, they were thicker and stronger- perfect for their style of living.

One that was barely moving flexed the sharp, hooked claws on its wings, showing their gripping force as it tried to grab onto the stone wall before blood loss overcame its senses.

The chortles of others near the ceiling told him everything.

These damned beasts were meant to kill him... but someone got to them first.

He had to admit, whoever that Wyvern rider was, he made one hell of an entrance. The wyvern, with its scales white as Ilian winters and a rider with admirable finesse... well. It wasn't exactly something one could discard as something dull and ordinary, after all. Surely even he, a rider of the noble winged steed, could acknowledge the creature's beauty and grace!

...Oh, and the man read. Fancy that.

His voice was powerful, his words less than flattering, but Acteon had to admit that he couldn't do much to refute it. There weren't many interesting contestants, here. Sellswords by the dozen was what it seemed to be, and if they weren't greedy, they were stupid. ...It's what he saw, anyway. Who knew? It wasn't like he went around to shake everyone's hand. Just because he wanted to eat the steak didn't mean he wanted to meet the cow, after all.

"A toy? Is that what you think of me?" Raising a violet brow slowly and shifting his seating on Bellerophon's back, he watched as the beast flew seamlessly through the air, circling around like some reversed tornado. Lazily, slowly, the wyvern came to a stop, abruptly ending its graceful rendezvous with the earth with a rather sickening splat.

"Homely? A bit, I suppose. I hope I'm worth the wait, Mr. Masked Stranger." Purring his words with a grin, Acteon grabbed the Javelin from Bellerophon's side- every good Pegasus Knight's saddle had an area made just to carry a rider's weapon into battle, just above the wings for easy access. Hearing his mount snort in anticipation for battle, he could feel his friend's hooves biting into the stone as they pawed greedily for a firm place from which to reach into the skies above. Even though there was a ceiling above their heads and walls around them, there was more than enough sky for this.

...He was kind of glad he shaved his legs.

"I hope you can handle me, Siegell. En garde!"

"I'm sure I won't disappoint." The arrogance back in his voice, Acteon spurred his mount into action, the pegasus rearing and whinnying in a mighty war cry before charging forward his wings beating and his legs fighting to get speed. Like a steady drumbeat, Bellerophon's hooves struck the stone again and again before, with a mighty leap, they overpowered gravity's law and set forth for the contained skies.

Already, Shastah was sweeping towards them, diving like some suicidal diver. Bellerophon's ascent was quick and sure, aiming straight for the attacking serpentine rider. Noting the glaive's path, Acteon steadied his mount, continuing their climb until Shastah moved to fly beneath his steed's belly. He couldn't afford to change his course, not too soon- Shastah's momentum meant that the wyvern rider had the advantage of speed.

"Now!" With a sudden jab against his partner's side, Acteon forced his partner into a roll, making sure the glaive flew perpendicular to the direction that they turned. For a moment, he thought he felt his mount's shoulders twitch and shudder, but still guided the war stallion through until they were able to circle around, facing Siegell again. While this meant they couldn't attack, the danger had passed, and they now had the high ground, proverbially speaking. Acteon, fairly sure that they had gotten away unscathed, could not understand why his steed's war cries had changed to a much shriller tone.

It wasn't until he looked down that he realized that his mount's four hooves had been reduced to three. Bellerophon shook visibly from the agony, but his war training in the Ilian snows made him think about anything but the pain; his master needed protection. His rider needed him to be at his best, and he would give it all, whether he lost one hoof or half of his body.

Acteon, however, was much less accepting of this.

"Y-you... you b*****d! How dare you hurt an Ilian mount? I hope you know that you're paying for his recovery!"

Pout pout went the Acteon, his voice rising an octave at the sheer shock of it all. He shook his Javelin like some woman throwing a tantrum, and wasted no time at all in diving in for a strike of his own. Rather than throw his Javelin, however, he raised it above his head...

And grabbed his Iron Sword from the scabbard at his side, throwing that blade straight at Siegell's breastplate.

He was a fair Javelin thrower, and the Iron Sword flew just as straight and true.

Whether he would be there or not was irrelevant. Even if Siegell dodged it, he still had to contend with the furious Ilian knight that cut a quick turn in midair, thrusting his long spear out towards him.

...totally platonically, of course, though he wouldn't have minded doing THAT, either...

Explosion of spells erupted in the Bael’s nesting area, shooting off like firecrackers in the night. The Elder Bael and her babies tried to scurry away from the explosion, but too late. Some of the Bael fell when the spell burned the webs. Some were attacked by the spells. Due to the eruption of the spells, it had caused a minor cave-in. Boulders were falling down as well as the baby Bael.

The Elder Bael let out a shriek as it watched the boulders covered its children. Outraged, the mother let out a furious shriek. The Elder Bael descended from her threaded web and shrieked out what sounded like an order. Colony of Bael crawled down from the webs and web and scurried to the direction where Ein ran.

They chased him across the floor. Their pincher pinched sharply as they let out shrieks of anger. The Bael skittered after them in high speed. They must get their revenge. They must get their dinner. That boy would not escape from them. The Bael chased him down to the dark tunnel he went.

The tunnel was becoming dark and dank. If they had ears, they would hear the boy screamed as he ran down the tunnel. They skittered after him.

Just as they went around the corner, they hastily stopped and let out shrieks of fury. It was too late for them. Their food had slipped down the slippery path and into the world's most deadliest animal killer. If they had noses, they would smell the retch of the animal killer. If they had ears, they would hear the popping sound from the animal killer.

As much as they wanted to chase their food, they refused to follow the same path the boy had fallen. Some of their deceased brothers and sisters had fallen to the animal killer. Even if they used their webs to pull their fallen brethren, it was too late to save them once the animal killer snatched it.

Shrieked and hissed in frustration and hunger, the Bael turned around and left. They chose to starve than to chase him down to the tar pit.