Chapter 2

It was almost a quarter to one in the morning and the house reverberated with the sound of someone hammering on the front door.

David Faye stomped down the stairs in a foul mood to see what the commotion was all about. He opened the door and was about to give the person on the other side of it a piece of his mind when she pushed past him.

"Mum, what's going on?" he asked his mother's back as she started to climb the stairs.

"Where's Eric? Is he in his room? Have you seen him tonight?" She shot the barrage of questions one after the other without waiting for a reply from her son.

David followed her up the stairs in a state of confusion and with a growing sense of foreboding.

"Mum, will you please just stand still and tell me what is going on!"

"No time, I have to see Eric. Now!"

"He's in his room. I think he got into a fight tonight but he didn't want to talk about it, he just came straight up here. What's going on Mum? Do you realise what the time is?"

"I will explain later. I'm going in there now and no one, I repeat, NO ONE is to come in there. Do I make myself clear?" the frail old lady demanded.

"Now just a moment Mum, this is my house and he is my son and I think I hav..."

"David Faye, you will do as I say or there will be serious trouble. Do you understand?" she growled at him.

"Yes Mum."

"Good, now make yourself useful and put the kettle on. I am too old to be running around in the middle of the night without having a nice cup of tea. Once you have made it, knock on the door, leave it on the floor outside, and go back to your room. NOW please David, I am not getting any younger here you know!"

Even at only five feet tall, weighing barely seven stone and being nearly eighty years old, Olive Faye was an impressively commanding presence. It was almost impossible to defy her will once she decided on something.

As David retreated back down the stairs, his mother went into Eric's room.

If anyone had been watching her, they would have been shocked at her reaction to the scene that lay before her. She looked around the room, taking in all of the sights and just let out a gentle chuckle.

"Oh Eric, you are a one aren't you Young One" she said to her self.

Eric did not respond. He was lying on the floor with a gaping hole in his chest, a 3 foot sword in his hand and was writhing in agony.

"Why on Earth didn't you come and talk to me before you did this? There are easier ways you know." she said to Eric's prostrate form.

Considering the fact that Eric had pierced his heart, there was surprisingly little blood to be seen. Even the sword didn't appear to have any on it.

There was a knock at the bedroom door and Olive went to retrieve her cup of tea. "This could take a while," she mused, "I might as well get comfortable."

As she sat sipping her hot, sweet mug of tea, she watched Eric intently. She was very aware that what happened in the next couple of hours could quite easily kill him and she had no intention of letting him die.

Eric's thrashings slowly began to subside and it appeared he was going to relax when suddenly every muscle in his body went into spasms. The black oily appearance of the blade was fading and was being replaced by a bluish glow. As the intensity of the glow increased, so did the area it was encompassing. It spread across Eric's chest like a slow flowing wave and continued to expand until it covered his whole body. Still stuck in a state of rictus, Eric dropped the sword. He was very frightened and in great pain but there was nothing he could do.

The sword slowly began to slide rise until it was above his body. It moved as if guided by an unseen hand until the point was resting on his forehead and then began to carve a bizarre set of patterns into his skin. It continued to slice and carve the symbols across his face, neck, shoulders, chest, stomach and legs. Once the entire front of his body was covered, Eric's muscles gave a massive jerk and flipped him onto his chest.

With a clean canvas to work on, the sword repeated the process all over the back of his legs, body and head. When the sword gave the final cut, the blue glow appeared to flow into all of open wounds. With all of the symbols glowing like neon he made a macabre but strangely beautiful sight.

Olive sat and watched. Totally transfixed by the sword's actions, she was suddenly blinded when the light flashed to an incredible incandescent brightness.

By the time her vision returned to normal the glow was gone and Eric lay there without a mark on him. Even the original stab wound through the heart and the cuts and bruises from his earlier beating had disappeared. Eric's body relaxed and he looked to be at peace.

"Oh my." said Olive softly to herself.

A light greyish smoke was starting to come from Eric's skin. A new reddish purple glow was beginning to become visible all over him and the smoke became thicker. To all intents and purposes it looked as thought Eric was about to spontaneously combust. As she watched, he seemed to be shrinking in on himself. First to go were his jowl-like cheeks and rolls of fat under his chin. These were replaced by semi-prominent cheek bones and a rugged jaw line. His upper body followed, all of his flabbiness apparently being burned away to be replaced by firm, well defined muscle. His large gut was swapped for a six pack, his penis thickened and lengthened without becoming hard, fat thighs became powerfully muscled, calves gained both muscle and definition. The smoking and glowing began to fade and eventually stopped. The end result was enough to take the old woman's breath away.

"Oh my!" she said again. This time however for totally different reasons.

Eric's body had undergone a total transformation. Gone was the flabby, podgy kid and in his place lay a close representation of a Greek god. He was muscled, defined and his skin had taken on the colour of burnished copper. Once more Eric seemed to relax, this time into a peaceful slumber.

His grandmother had witnessed similar transformations twice before in her life and knew that he would remain like that for a little while if left undisturbed, so she left his room and went down to the kitchen to replenish her cup of tea and gather a few things she thought she might need.

As she returned Eric's room once more, David, Eric's father was stood in the hallway in front of his bedroom door.

"Mum, you have been in there for nearly 3 hours. What in the name of all that is good is going on in there?"

"I don't have time to explain now David, I will do so in the morning. Let's just say that Brianna seems to like your son" she replied with a small smile.

All of the colour drained from David's face. "I won't have your witchcraft hocus pocus here in my house, I want you too leave. Right now."

"Oh David, do shut up. This is none of my doing. What Brianna wants, Brianna gets and there is not a mortal soul who can stop it. I am going to stay in there until it is over and try to help him understand what is going on. Once again, I must stress that no one is to come into that room without my express permission. Do I make my self clear?"

"Yes mum." replied David and he went back into his room.

Eric was still sleeping soundly when Olive returned. As she admired his naked form she felt a twinge that she had not heard from for many, many years. "Oh to be 50 again." she thought.

Olive was starting to doze in her chair when Eric whimpered.

"Quiet now Young One, just one more phase and it will all be over." She said soothingly to him but with no effect.

Eric's hands shot to his temples and the look of pain and terror on his face was almost enough to break the old lady's heart.

"Nearly there Eric, just a little longer and you will be able to sleep."

Eric in the meantime was once again thrashing round on the floor, clutching his head like he thought it would explode if he didn't hold onto it. His mouth was open and the cords in his throat stood out as if he were silently screaming. After a little over an hour, he once again suddenly relaxed and let out a soft snore.

Olive smiled to herself and began to lay out the things she had brought up from the kitchen.

When she heard Eric began to thrash around once more she spun in surprise. His body was rigid again but seemed to be undulating as if he were on an inflatable lie-low on a gentle ocean swell.

Olive could hear a buzzing sound. "No, that's not right!" she thought. "I can't actually hear it, but I can feel it. What is going on? This should all be over!"

The buzzing feeling increased in intensity, pounding her senses and dropping her to her knees. She cupped her hands over her ears but it had no effect. And then it was gone. The silence was almost as unbearable as the noise had been. She looked at Eric to make sure he was ok. He didn't appear to be moving so she rushed to his side and reached down to check for the pulse in his neck. Suddenly her arm felt like it was held in a vice. Eric had reached up and caught her wrist before she could touch him, the look of anger in his eyes sending an icy chill of fear up her spine, but even worse than that was the changed appearance of those eyes. In all of her years Olive had never seen eyes like these. They were almost completely black, but with a ring of blue around the edge, the same blue as the stone in the sword's pommel. It made his eyes look like a pair of solar eclipses.

"Nan, what are you doing here?" Eric asked as he released her wrist from his grasp. His features returned to a mask of calm and serenity.

"I was told you would need me tonight, so I came." she replied whilst trying to massage some feeling back into her wrist.

"Who told you? Wait, it was Brianna wasn't it?"

"Yes." came her simple reply.

Eric got up from the floor and for the first time realised he was naked. He tried to cover himself and almost fell onto the bed in his haste to bend and turn so his Nan would not see his nakedness. As his hands touched his cock he stopped and looked down. A look of confusion and then wonder came to his face as he noticed the size of it. He also realised that he wasn't actually embarrassed by being naked.

"That's strange, my Nan's sat in my room starting at me, I am stark bollock naked and it doesn't bother me." He stepped over to the mirror on his wardrobe door and took a look at himself.

"Holy shit! What the fuck happened to me?" He glanced nervously towards his Nan, expecting to receive a sharp rebuke for the outburst.

"Oh, don't worry about me Eric. You think that these eighty year old ears have never heard someone swear before?" she chuckled and turned back to her tasks at the desk.

Eric looked in the mirror again. He could hardly recognise himself. He had grown about three inches in height and was now 6' 2" tall. His face had lost all of the bloatedness that had plagued him before and his body looked like it had been sculpted. He experimentally flexed the muscles in his chest and was amazed to see his pecs bounce up and down. His shoulders were wide, even, and well muscled, gone was the roundedness of before. His chest was now broad and powerful looking. His stomach was flat and well defined; he could make out the different muscle groups and count his abs.

His cock really caught his attention. It was fat and long and appeared to be about twice the size it used to be. "Bloody hell, it looks bigger now than it did when I was hard before!" he thought to himself.

His legs no longer had any fat on them either, just large, lean muscles. He turned so he could see his back and it was the same story there. Once again, he gave a trial flex of his muscles. His lats looked like stubby wings when he tensed them and he could see the muscles rippling up and down the length of his back.

"Eric, put some shorts on or something and come and have a drink." Olive said to him, snapping him out of his self absorbed inspection.

Eric went to put on the jeans he had been wearing that day but saw that they had been cut to ribbons, as had the rest of his clothes, so he got another pair out of his dresser. When he put them on they were too short in the leg and the waist was far too big.

"Looks like I am going to need some more clothes." he said with a smile.

"We can worry about that in a little while." Olive said. "First, you need to sit and listen to me."

"Drink up Eric, you have lost a lot of fluids. You are probably hungry as well so I have made you some sandwiches and there are a couple of chocolate bars which should help you recover your strength. We need to talk, or at least I need to tell you some things. Sit, eat, drink, and listen. Don't interrupt, you can ask your questions when I am finished."

As Eric drank his water and began to attack his food, Olive began to speak.

"This is going to sound more like a fairy tale than fact but it is all true to the best of my knowledge. When the world was young, before Man came along it was inhabited by other beings called the Fey. There were many types of Fey but the most common of them were the Elven and Fairie peoples. Although they had much in common, there were distinct differences between them. The main and most important difference being their magics.

Elves gained their power from the natural world. They were able to tap into the earths own powers, to use the forces of nature, the wind, the rain, thunder and lightning. The ability to commune with animals, hear the stories the trees had to tell, and read the land like it was an open book was theirs.

Faeries on the other hand had an innate magical ability. They were created from raw magic and it was passed down to all of their offspring through the ages. Their magic was no more powerful, just different from that of the Elves. Fairies could control people, create things from nothing; even alter reality to suit them.

For Millennia, the Elven and Fairie peoples co-existed peacefully. There were even joinings, like marriages between some of them. This was generally frowned upon but it did happen. Over the course of time the offspring from these joinings began to gain the magics of both peoples and become more powerful than any before them. As the two societies began to integrate it was only natural that one of these exceptionally powerful children of both races should emerge as a leader.

The one they chose was a young girl. She was just, fair, benevolent, and seemed to have an instinctive knack for ruling her people. Under her leadership and guidance, both peoples became more prosperous and many of the old prejudices disappeared."

"You are talking about Brianna, aren't you?" asked Eric.

Olive looked surprised but nodded.

"How can that be? If she was alive all that time ago, she..."

"Eric, I told you not to interrupt. I will get to that so just listen. There were some amongst both of the races who did not like the 'dilution and pollution' of their peoples and cultures; they began to sow the seeds of division and unrest. The leader of this small but rapidly growing band was a Fairie by the name of N'Sahlah. Now, if N'Sahlah had just wanted a return to the old ways, he could have banded together with Bathlan, his counterpart from the Elven peoples and they could have worked together to bring about a return of the old ways. Fortunately, he was so blinded by prejudice that he spent half of his time trying to achieve his own goals and the other half trying to prevent the Elves from attaining theirs. To start with he used propaganda and misinformation to prey on the fears and prejudices of others but this quickly progressed to more direct and more violent acts. It wasn't long before there was a definite rift between Brianna's people.

As soon as she realised what was happening she summoned Bathlan and N'Sahlah to her court. Try as she might, she could not get either of them to listen to reason. Within a year a terrible civil war broke out. Many from both sides were killed, and huge areas of land were made uninhabitable by the use of destructive magics.

Brianna realised that if she sent an army of her own into the fray, at best she would escalate the war and at worst both the other sides would turn on her. This was something she was not prepared to do so she called for a Tournament. A royal Tournament which would decide the outcome of the war. The overall winner of the Tournament would become her Paladin, the Queen's Champion if you will, and would have total control of all martial affairs for all of the peoples.

The Tournament was arranged quickly as Brianna wanted to put a stop to the senseless loss of life that was currently taking place. The battle between the two sides stopped almost immediately as people rushed home to their families and friends and began to prepare for the Tournament. It was decided that there would be three competing teams, each of which would field twenty combatants. Bathlan and N'Sahlah both picked their best warriors to compete, and Brianna put out a call for all who would come to her aid. In the end, she had a team of warriors that consisted of eight Elves, seven Fairies and five of the mixed race.

Brianna set the rules of the Tournament. There were to be nine events over two days and nights. Each warrior would compete in all nine events and their scores would be tallied at the end.

Six of the nine events were to be like a traditional medieval tournament. The Sword, The Bow, The Lance, Distance Running, Swimming, and The Spear, each designed to test a warrior's skill and endurance.

However, the last three would test their use of magic. Illusion, Metamorphosis and Creation, and finally a battle.

The evening before the Tournament, a lone warrior rode into the Queen's Court yard on a huge chestnut stallion. He was young, of mixed race, was large by both Elven and Fairie standards, and looked as if he knew how to use his weight to his advantage. He carried a broadsword, bullwhip, and a plethora of knives and daggers. He begged an audience with Brianna and implored her to allow him to compete on her behalf even though she had already chosen her twenty champions.

"I cannot allow this, would you have me disappoint one of my faithful chosen by replacing them now?" she asked of him.

"My queen, you misunderstand me, I do not wish to replace one of your warriors, I wish to replace all of them. I alone will fight for you and I alone will win for you." There was no arrogance in his tone just a self assured conviction that what he was saying was the truth.

There was a hushed whisper that went round the Queen's Court.

"That is a bold statement Young One. I do not wish to appear ungrateful but the lives of many depend on the outcome of this competition. I cannot and will not place that particular burden of responsibility on any one man's shoulders. Even shoulders as wide as yours." she said with a smile.

"My Queen, you need me. You just do not realise it yet. Will you allow me to challenge for this right?" he asked.

Brianna was becoming a little annoyed by this cocksure young man but she was also intrigued as to his abilities.

"Very well" she said "If you can beat five of my personal guard, now, unarmed in hand to hand combat I will allow you to challenge one of the twenty for his place on the team. Should you fail, by way of penance you shall muck out and clean the royal stables. Is this acceptable to you?"

"No My Queen. If I should beat your five guards, I wish to challenge all twenty for their place on the team. If I win against your five and then your twenty, I ask that I be allowed to be the sole combatant for you. Should I lose, I will submit to any and all punishments you hand out."

"Even death?" Brianna asked arching her eyebrow

"If that is what you require of me then I will gladly give my life to you My Queen."

"Very well, you may attempt the first part of the challenge. I will allow this if for no other reason than to have my stables cleaned. Captain Hogarth, please have five of your men take this man into custody without using their weapons."

The captain chose his five biggest guards, took their swords, daggers and pikes from them, and set them loose on the young man still on one knee before his Queen.

It was over before it began. He moved with such incredible speed that the first four were unconscious before the fifth was even in range, and then he too was quickly dispatched. The young man returned to one knee in front of Brianna before the last guard had hit the floor.

The assembled crowd gasped at the speed and ferocity of his attack. No one had believed for a moment that he would be capable of taking five of the Queen's guards down single handedly and yet here he was, supplicating himself before the Queen without having even broken a sweat as the bodies of her guards lay around him.

"Stand up and tell me your name Young One." said Brianna with just a hint of awe in her voice

"Erith, My Queen. My name is Erith."

"Well Erith, it seems that your claims were not just idle boasts. However, there is still the matter of these other 20 individuals that you must best. Each of them has their strengths and you must accept a challenge from each member of the team in the discipline of their choosing. Should you best them all, I will consider your request. My champions please come forward one at a time and challenge this young man to a contest in your preferred discipline."

The first came forward. "I challenge you to a fight with the sword." she said to him as she stepped up and drew her weapon.

"Wait." said Erith, holding up his hand to show that he was still unarmed. "Are there any others amongst you who will wish to challenge me to the sword?"

Seven others put their hands forward.

"With your permission My Queen, I would like to get these challenges out to the way as quickly as possible. It has been a long hard ride for me to get here in time and I am a little tired. If I am to perform at my best I will need to find a bed for the night soon. With your permission I will fight the eight of them together."

"Are you sure you want to die so young?" she asked of him. When he didn't reply she simply shrugged and said "It's your passing." Brianna waived her hand for the fight to begin.

Erith stood alone surrounded by eight of the Queen's best swordsmen. Each had been trained since they were old enough to pick up a stick and practice yet he stood with his sword still in its scabbard and his arms folded.

As the first attack came he just ducked and weaved out of the way, spun on his heel, captured his attackers hands in his own and allowed her momentum to carry her past him. He pulled back on her wrists and she did a back flip, letting go of her sword. Erith caught it and threw it in the air. It embedded itself in one of the roof beams almost forty feet above his head. He turned to face his next attack. This time three of them had decided to rush him. He ducked under a double handed over the head chop that was designed to split him from skull to scrotum, then stepped inside his attackers arms so his sword was now behind him and delivered a vicious head butt to the bridge of the nose. His attacker crumpled to the floor, as Erith caught his sword and without looking tossed it up into the eaves of the roof next to the other one.

He dropped to one knee and swept the legs out from under the next attacker, again grabbing the wrist holding the sword and used it to parry a blow from his other attacker. The speed and force of his strike caused his attackers sword to fly out of his hand and the wrist he was holding to break. He caught the sword that was in the air and took the other from the now limp had of the man on the floor. He threw them both together and they joined the other two in the roof beam.

The other five attackers came as one. Erith moved with such speed that their swords found only empty space where he should have been. One by one they succumbed to his attacks and defences until all eight swords were imbedded in the roof beam high above them.

"Erith, that was very impressive. Tell me though, why did you not draw your own sword?" asked Brianna as the others were moving back and dragging those that were still out cold.

"My Queen, you said that I had to fight unarmed, hand to hand." he replied.

"That was only for the first challenge! When you are challenged to the sword you are allowed to use your sword. My apologies Young One, my unclear instructions could have cost you your life."

"It is yours to spend as you wish My Queen." he said to her.

"Alright, who will offer another challenge?" Brianna asked of her champions.

"I will," replied one "Erith, I challenge you to the bow."

"I accept. Are there any others who would challenge me to the bow?"

Two more stepped forward.

A target was placed at the end of the hall approximately sixty yards away.

"Three arrows each, nearest the centre wins."

"Erith, you do not appear to have a bow." Brianna said to him.

"I do not believe I will need one My Queen." he replied.

"If you are sure. Begin the challenge."

The first archer stepped up to the mark. He was Elven and was widely accepted to be the best archer anyone could remember. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and notched it on the string. Sighting down the arrow he drew the bow and released and then fired the other two arrows in such quick succession his movements were a blur.

None of his arrows hit the target. As he released his first, Erith had run the length of the hall and was standing in front of the target. He caught all three arrows before they hit. He was back beside the archer before he realised that none of his arrows had struck the target.

He held the first of the arrows he had retrieved by the flight and with a flick of his wrist sent it the sixty yards down the range with such force that it passed completely through the target and embedded its self in the ancient oak doors behind. It left a hole smack dead centre of the target. He repeated the exercise with the second arrow which also passed through the centre, just clipping the outer edge of the hole he had just made. With the third arrow, he pulled his arm back and threw the arrow as hard as he could. There was a loud, sharp crack as it left his hand, it travelled too fast for anyone to see where it went but it passed straight through the hole in the center of the bull and straight through the nine inch thick oak doors. The gathered crowd gasped in amazement and the captain of the guard went to see where it had ended up. He returned a couple of minutes later with what was left of the arrow.

"How far did it go Captain?" Asked Brianna

"Majesty, it passed through a water trough and still managed to embed itself in the inner wall. It was too deep for me to retrieve the head!"

"Very impressive Young One. Are there any other archers amongst you who think you can better this feat?" she asked the remaining members of her chosen team.

None came forward.

"Well, that is more than half of the challenges answered. Who is next?"

"I am Majesty." said the oldest member of the twenty. "Erith, you have shown me that there is very little likelihood of me, or any other for that matter besting you with any weapon. How is your magic Young One?" Somehow he managed to take the friendly term the Queen used for him and make it sound derisive.

"We shall see, Old One" he replied with a smile. "Is it safe to assume that you are the most proficient at magic and that is why you are challenging me first?"

"That would be a safe assumption, yes." None of the others argued.

"Then would the remainder of you be prepared to cede your challenges if I win this one?" Erith asked the remainder of the assembled twenty.

There were some muted grumbles but eventually the remainder gave their assent.

"Let the challenge begin." called Brianna.

The old Fairie mage looked Erith up and down. "Lets try to be at least civilised about this Young One. We shall follow the same rules and codes as are laid down for the Tournament. Three stages. The first to be Illusion, then Metamorphosis and Creation, followed a battle. I request that the battle be non lethal. If one of us were to die, the Queen will have to rely on a mage of slightly lesser skills for the Tournament. Are we agreed on the rules?"

"As you wish." replied Erith with a nod of his head.

"For the illusion we shall each cast once in turn. One illusion and the Queen shall judge the winner. If you have no objections, I shall go first."

The elder mage began to whisper his words of power and move his hands in a complicated pattern until a ball of swirling light appeared in front of him. The ball expanded until it was about 4 feet across and the swirling lights began to coalesce into the beginnings of an image. As the assembled crowd watched, the image became clearer. It was a woodland clearing, in all of its detail. The sound of a hunting horn could be heard in the distance and a hare ran across the pictured clearing, closely pursued by a pack of hounds. These were then followed by three people on horseback. The detail was amazing and all could see that the riders were Brianna, Erith and the mage himself. He let the scene play a while longer and then with a flick of his wrist it was gone.