Tales from Blood Talon Cove

Are these gods or mortals that I perceive?

Or do my eyes exist only to deceive?

A glowing aura round their presence

Calms my soul of any malevolence

Light from the sun, beaming down

Falls upon their heads like a heavenly crown

A picture preserved by one named Alan

Of two demigods at the cove of Blood Talon

The Newly-Weds

A perfect day. A perfect sky. Two young lovers upon the beach. In the sand, in the sea. They splashed and danced upon the shore. Listened to the sounds carried on by the wind.
And now they rest from a weary day of play, soaking in the sunshine and toying with the sand at their feet. Two lovers on their Honeymoon. Blissfully unaware of the Fate before them. A Fate of routine and normalcy.
These are not the Young Lovers who become the Widowed Lovers. No. In fact these Young Lovers will, for purposes unknown, will grow into the Old Lovers - sitting on their porch from noon till six, only to retire inside to eat, sleep, and eventually pass on to their next lives.
Nor are these the Young Lovers who transform to the Angry Lovers, separated by Rage and Violence. No. Their struggles and strafes, though soon-to-be tearing daily at their hearts and throats, will only grow them into the Committed Lovers - the ones that will forever continue to hold onto each other.
Nor are these Young Lovers destined to separate into the Solo Lovers, working their own jobs for their own pay. No. Instead they'll hold onto each other tighter, the Dependent Lovers - wanting and needing each other for their dual survival.
But that's all years, months, weeks away. Much too far to foresee, especially on a perfect day at the beach, a perfect sky overhead. He says to Her. She whispers back to Him. Two young lovers splashing in the waves and building castles in the sand.

Wolf

Wolf strolled through the village like an Angel of Death, striking swift and precise, leaving only those he wanted dead as corpses for the others to find. He even managed to avoid spilling any blood on the raven-black cloak and wide-brimmed kasa he wore on missions like this. With a wide, toothy grin, he made his way to the center of the village where the young woman's scent was strongest. She sat on a bench in front of the stone statue of the village founder. Her long, brown hair fell across one shoulder and down the back of her light-blue dress. Wolf took several seconds to admire the craftsmanship of the statue and decided, if anything, he'd at least leave it intact.
He saw her stand as he stepped out of the shadow of the building and into the torch-lit square. She walked several steps closer to him as she spoke, her movements betraying no sign of fear that she might hold within her, as most young heroes do. "So, what took you so long? You have been wandering around the town for almost half an hour now." She stared at him, eyes unwavering and fearless. Wolf assured himself that would change before he finished here.
Never breaking the wide, tooth-filled smile, he said "I had a hard time tracking down your scent. I needed to eliminate the others who reeked of it until I finally found you." He watched the look of confusion fill her face until she replaced it with one of horror, grief, and ultimately, anger. Who else would have her scent on them besides the people she made contact with. Her family. Her friends.
Wolf shrugged, still smiling. "It needed to be done, after all." With a subtle move, he dropped his black cloak onto the stone-slab ground of the empty town square. Nest came off his kasa, which he dropped onto the cloak, the wide-brimmed straw hat landing perfectly upright. She could see his face clearly now, his facial features still dominated though by his wide, tooth-filled smile. She saw him begin inspecting his gray, long-sleeved tunic, picking off bits of black lint. In the middle of a fight, she thought, the act infuriating her even further toward blind rage. She let her anger consume her, her Resolve determined to punish the intruder. For justice, she thought. And Vengeance, she quickly added.
Placing her two hands over her chest, she concentrated her Resolve and began unsheathing her Blade. The blue light emitted from her chest, dim at first but began glowing brighter. As she reached one hand into the light, Wolf walked forward, closing the distance between the two of them. When she pulled her hand out, clutching the hilt of her Blade, he sprinted forward. Pulling his hands from behind his back, he flung two short, thin-bladed throwing knives. She just placed her second hand on the hilt of her Blade when the two knives made contact with each of them. Startled, she released her grip, letting the Blade fall back into the light. With a swift tug, Wolf yanked the double-edged Blade from her chest just as the gateway faded. With a spin, he flipped her Blade upside-down and jammed the cold steel into the ground. He looked back at her to see she collapsed onto her knees, breathing heavy, and hands feeling her chest.
"Feels like somethings missing doesn't it?" He circled her, like a vulture, stopping where he started, right in front of her. "Like a piece of yourself has just been ripped from you."
She looked up to see only his smile. She tried to say something, to scream, but she couldn't. The pain was too intense and so she could only watch as he raised his head toward the sky and opened his mouth wide. Within seconds, a single light glowing from his mouth bathed the entire square in a crimson light. He reached one hand into the light and extracted a four foot katana. Even when the red light faded, she could see the blade-still glowing red. From its point it even dripped red. Blood.
"A Fang," she gasped. Her voice was strained as she spoke, leaving Wolf with a look of surprise on his face.
"So, you know what this is." He spun the sword several times at his side.
"A Fang," she repeated, "That means you're a, a, a Monster."
"Ahh, yes. A Hero I am no more."
"So, you've Resolved to kill me." She emphasized Resolved hoping he'd get the joke. He did and he laughed.
"No Resolve," he said, raising his Fang, the katana, above his head. "Only Hunger." He brought the sword down, point first, and buried his Fang into her shoulder, letting it taste her blood before he pulled it out. She fell. He turned around to see her Blade still plunged in the ground.
"Now," he said, resting his Fang upon his shoulder, "What to do with you?"


Wolf comes from the story involving Chance. both are tagged under the "Blades and Fangs" story