Chapter 1

The light of the tavern spilt over the cobblestone street, the laughter and merriment drifting out along with it. The night was fresh, and no one thought anything of going home just yet. Neither did Roan as he opened the door, walking into the well lit room. His single green eye scanned the room, resting for just heartbeat on each person. He then calmly walked to the bar, his knee high leather boots thudding softly on the floor boards. His black cloak did little to hide the fact that he had a sword at his hip despite being held closed at the front.

He sat at the bar, seemingly nonchalant. He ordered a meal. The barmaid did her best not to glance at his other eye. The light of the chandelier overhead did not help. It gleamed in the light, seemed to move and swirl a molten silver. A single scar bisected his otherwise handsome face, running from the line of dark brown hair on the left, through the silver eye and ended at the bridge of his nose.

He ate his food slowly, almost, one would say, carefully. Upon his left hand was a small tattoo. If one looked close enough, they would see a rat, though the rat seemed to have a silver eye instead of a black one. Above the rat tattoo was another, slightly larger, but was the reason why no one sat near him. In fact, people moved away from him, eyeing him warily. Whispers moved through the crowd, and the sounds of enjoyment hushed a little.

The door to the tavern opened again. No one really thought to look twice at the older gentleman that strode in. Had anyone been paying any attention, they would have seen Roan's head tilt ever so slightly. He continued to eat, though, not making any other motion that he noticed anyone around him. The older man came up to the bar, asking for a glass of wine.

The barmaid walked away. At that moment, the older man looked down at the younger one sitting next to him. His black eyes focused on the young man's hand. A hiss was all he could get out before he found a stake through his chest. He bared his teeth, his fangs growing longer. He glared at Roan, but the last thing the vampire saw was that silver eye, swirling, moving, drawing him in, reflecting him, something the vampire had never seen as he had no reflection. But the vampire never got the chance to ponder this, nor to finish his transformation before his head rolled along the floor.

It stopped, staring up, at another pair of soft leather boots that had just entered the tavern. Roan gave hardly a glance at the cloaked figure as he slipped his silver scimitar back into its scabbard. He had accomplished his mission, the whole reason why he had been sent to this small town. No one else mattered at this point. He turned away from the twitching, bloodless body, going to finish his meal with more vigor now that he didn't have to watch his back so closely.

Not a moment later, a black gloved hand held the head into his field of vision. "I do believe your friend lost this. I would take his fangs, but he's not my kill."

The voice was soft, raspy, neither male nor female. Roan glanced to his right, his eyes narrowed in some annoyance. The cloaked figure looked back at him from the shadows of its hood. Somehow, he knew the person was smiling. The only thing he could see in the shadow were two small shining globes, sickly green in color, like a cat's reflective eye shine.

"I don't waste my time with such trinkets." Roan turned back to his meal.

Shrugging, the person tossed the head over its shoulder, which struck a disgusted patron squarely between the shoulders. No one had really bothered to leave despite the grizzly scene. They all knew Roan to be a Seeker, one of the powerful mages who sought out the beasts of nightmares, creatures born of chaotic magicks that ran rampant through this world. Although his people often protected the innocent, they were also above laws, as the laws were made by them. They could do whatever they damn well pleased, and no one dared push their patience.

The cloaked figure sat next to Roan, obviously not concerned about his status. This alone intrigued Roan. He was used to being feared. That this person had no fear made him curious. He turned his head slightly, looking at the person with his normal eye as the person had smartly sat on his right.

"I'll take that wine our patron here didn't get the chance to finish." The voice was slightly stronger, but still a little raspy. Though now Roan's sharp ears could detect a feminine note. Turning, the woman looked back him, those glowing orbs indicating their target: him. "I assure you, I'm no vampire."

"That wasn't my concern." Roan looked her up and down a little more closely. He had already noticed the bulge of the sword.

He heard a humorous snort as the gloved hands came up and pulled back the hood. Premature white hair was cropped close to her head. She was certainly very beautiful despite the masculine hair cut. Her eyes flicked to Roan. They were oval, slightly slanted and the deepest green he'd ever seen. Long ears tapered to a point, each pierced multiple times.

Heads turned. A smirk crossed the elf's face. No wonder her voice was so raspy, Roan thought, she was coming out of raa'haar, the age when elves, much longer lived than humans, became able to have children, like human puberty. She was no doubtablly older than anyone in the tavern though she looked equivalent to a human in her early 20s. She peered back at Roan, her gaze steady, never once focusing on his odd eye. This also he found strange, as all beings were attracted to it, whether they wanted to be or not.

"Elves are rarely seen around here." Roan turned back to his food. "I would think just the dirt between the cobblestones would disgust you back to your home."

As he reached for his fork, he found it flipping in the air, then snatched by the gloved hand. The elf grinned back at him as she spun the fork between her fingers nimbly. His eyes flicked in her direction. He noticed her elongated canines, something most elves ground down to make sure they could not be considered beasts. He then knew she was a wild elf.

"The dirt is the least of my worries." She stabbed the fork into a piece of meat on his plate before he could react and placed it in her mouth, all the while her eyes upon him. He snorted, his patience running out. Putting several coins on the table- even though he didn't need to- he stood. He stepped over the pile of ash that had been his victim, and walked out the door without another glance.

A huff drew his attention as he opened the door to the outside. He looked to his left, searching the shadows. He then noticed a darker shadow that shifted. At first he thought it was a large dog. Then the beast sat up. If it was a dog, it was bigger than any he'd ever seen. The beast's head easily reached his sternum, and it's glowing eyes watched him more like a predator than a friend. The growl that came from it was not canine.

As Roan reached for his sword, the elf suddenly brushed past him. She smelled of the woods, of meadows in bloom, of clear rivers and gentle rain. Distracted a moment, he blinked a few times before noticing that the beast was purring, not growling. It was a giant black panther. It rubbed it's enormous head against the elf as she stroked it. "There, there, dark one. Did the Seeker give you a fright?"

Roan snorted. It was he who had gotten a fright. The panther easily rivaled a tiger in size. It was like no panther he had ever seen. It was solid black, no darker spots visible. The glowing eyes were the most piercing icy blue he'd ever imagined. The panther huffed again, rubbing that giant broad head against its mistress.

Without a word, Roan turned away and strode down the street, heading for the stables where he had left his large black and brown stallion. After acquiring his horse, he headed out of town, ready to head back to the massive castle that was considered the Seekers' Headquarters. It was where they lived, trained, and could let their guard down. All he wanted was to get home, to see his friend and partner, though this mission had not required the two of them.

When he had gotten out of town and deep into the woods, Roan dismounted easily and built a small fire. He got about to setting up his camp when he heard a sound. The slightest rustle. Off to his left. He continued about his chores, pretending to not hear. The rustle again. He whipped around, sword drawn, but it would do him no good against the beast that reared up, its red eyes glowing of unnatural power. He cursed himself. The vampire's familiar! How could he have forgotten? Older vampires often conjured up powerful demonic beasts to protect them. Without its master, it was now rogue, its only thought to avenge its master and then it would only think of filling its need for souls. No sword could cut this demon.

A spell on his lips, Roan was stopped short by a blood curdling roar, a giant shadow leaping out of the brush, white claws as long as Roan's strong fingers gleaming in the firelight. Eyes glowed icy blue with magical power. The demon screamed eerily as the shadow collided with it and they disappeared into the brush.

"Tsk, tsk, didn't think it'd be that easy, did you, my dear Seeker?" The voice was deep, evil. Then Roan knew. He really hadn't thought much of it at first, thinking he had caught the vampire by surprise. But now he knew, it had been a decoy, a conjured being. Now he would face the real vampire.

The vampire appeared before the fire, midway through transformation. Thick, fleshy wings sprouted from his back, his face only vaguely resembling a bat, his spindly front arms ending in hideously large talons. His legs were short and squat, barely looking able to hold up the large bloated body. The skin was an ashen grey.

Roan was the first to move, tossing a stake with enough force to pierce through a tree. The vampire swept it aside with a thick wing. It laughed, a horrible sound that Roan had never gotten used to. It lunged at him with unnatural speed, its talons catching the Seeker along his side as he attempted to dodge. Spinning to the side, he brought his sword down between the vampire's wings. Coated with silver, the scimitar cut deeply. Black, half rotted blood exploded from the wound. The vampire screeched in pain, twisting unexpectedly. Its massive talons snagged Roan by the arm.

Its grip was crushing, the points digging into his flesh. The pain of his snapping bone was intense, but he pushed it aside, his other arm coming down with the sword. It bit into the vampire's wrist, causing it to screech again. But that was not what caused it to release Roan. It gave another cry and tossed him aside like a toy. He hit the ground hard, sliding through the soft dirt. He looked up as the vampire turned from him. He noticed in the flickering fire light that an arrow stuck out of its back.

The vampire leapt at some unseen foe. While he heard it fight in the darkness, he quickly sat up, his lips moving in a spell. He ran his good hand over his broken arm, feeling the healing warmth of the spell mend the bone back together. He quickly ran his hands over the deep gashes in his side as well, the wounds closing up.

His healing done, he turned his attention back to the battle he could hear in the darkness beyond the fire's light. His horse whinnied, but stood still as Roan rushed over and grabbed his crossbow. He cocked it, speaking a word of magic. The tip of the bolt burst into a magical silvery flame. As he turned back, he heard the wing beats of the vampire. It landed heavily. He recognized the short white hair. The elf had her teeth bared and was kicking the vampire, as it had her wrists in its talons. Its gruesome face was twisted in an evil grin.

Before Roan could fire, the vampire was knocked forward by something very heavy striking its back. It stumbled forward, screeching. It spun about, trying to dislodge the giant panther that clung to it. Massive fangs sank deep into the undead flesh. Its claws rend through the soft flesh, again and again until it had cut so deep that one of the vampire's wings hung limp with barely enough flesh to still be attached. It screamed and kept twisting in pain. It finally tossed the elf into the darkness. Its long arms reached over its head and grabbed the panther, dragging it off and bringing it to the front where it could bite the offending creature.

Roan lifted his crossbow, aiming for the back of the head. The bolt struck true. The vampire slumped forward, falling on top of the panther. At last, the night went silent. The only sound was that of the fire crackling and Roan's horse snorting. It was a very well trained animal. It had been near enough undead and fierce battles.

Cocking his crossbow again, Roan cautiously approached the vampire's body. It suddenly moved. Roan leapt back, but held his finger. The panther's head twisted out from under the large beast. It gave a rumble, looking up him. "A fair job you did," Roan stated to the giant cat, doubting it could understand him. His eyes looked over the mangled corpse. Using a foot, he shoved the vampire's body with great strength. At the same time the panther heaved up and rolled the corpse off him. It quickly bounded past him into the darkness.

Shrugging, Roan looked back to the vampire. The elf had also done considerable damage. He could see evidence of magical attacks. He heard the low bellow of the panther, as if it were calling to him. Cautiously, Roan followed the sound. He saw the darker form of the panther, its eyes glowing slightly in the dark. He remembered how the beast's eyes had burned with icy fire when it had attacked the vampire's familiar. Was the creature sentient? Certainly he had never seen or heard of such an animal, it was possible it was a beast made by magic.

He noticed the panther nudging a crumpled form at its massive paws. Roan knew this to be the elf. Shouldering his crossbow, he reached down and found the elf's slender throat, feeling for a pulse. She was definitely alive. Roan lifted her carefully, not sure if any of her bones were broken. Carrying her back to the fire, he laid her down and removed her cloak to better examine her wounds. The giant panther's head peered over his shoulder, its lips drawn back in a silent snarl. Roan knew this to be a warning. He turned his head slightly, careful not to meet the panther's fearsome gaze. "You have my word I won't harm her." As if this satisfied him, the panther eased back, giving the Seeker room to check his mistress.

The vampire had tossed the elf into a tree. A broken branch had impaled her in the back, under her ribs. Other than that, a few minor scratches, and a large, swollen bump on her head, having struck a rock when she fell from the tree, he saw no other wounds on her. He spoke softly, a warm light moving from his hand onto the wound on her back, then he moved to her head. After he had healed her, he moved back with a sigh. Now he was exhausted. He quietly prayed that nothing else would bother him that night.

He slowly got to making some tea, all the while glancing at the panther. The large beast laid next to the elf. It gently worked one of its massive paws under her head to act as a pillow. It made a low moaning sound, as if trying to wake her.

Sitting back with a cup of strong tea, Roan watched as the panther gave up and laid its head next to hers, purring quietly. "Don't worry, dark one. She'll be fine after a bit of rest."

It simply flicked a large, knicked ear to indicate it had even heard him. Shrugging, exhaustion quickly took its toll. Figuring it was safe enough, he wrapped himself into his thick cloak, his sword in hand. Sleep washed over him quickly. Almost too quickly.

The bright sunlight told Roan he'd slept much too deeply to be normal. He remembered then the hypnotic purr of the panther. It was most definitely magical. Rousing himself from sleep, he sat up and looked around. He immediately noted that the panther and his elf were gone ... as was his horse and his things! Snarling in rage, Roan leapt to his feet. That bitch!

He quickly found the trail his horse had left. He pressed into the woods, cursing the whole while. The sun was near the horizon for night before he heard what sounded like splashing. Crouching, he crept behind some bushes, his sword drawn. He peered through the spaces of the branches. His eyes narrowed.

The elf stood naked waist deep in a stream. Her pale skin shone wetly in the waning sunlight. The panther was dripping with the cold water, glaring at his mistress who giggled at him. He gave a huff, turned to leave the water. She grabbed his thick tail. "Aw, Draen, c'mon, you aren't clean! You still smell like wet dog!"

The panther spun. Roan thought surely it would attack her as its giant paw swiped at her. But there were no claws. It struck her side, nearly throwing her slender, very feminine form into the water. She stood back up, laughing. The panther pounced, pushing her under. Then it pounced off, landing on the shore, shaking, strategically spraying the elf as she surfaced. She splashed him, giggling. "Certainly not!" she suddenly remarked, putting her hands on her shapely hips.

The panther huffed and went over to Roan's horse. It sniffed his horse, who whinnied and kicked out at the beast. "No, Draen. You cannot eat it." There was a pause as she rubbed sand against her skin, getting off as much dirt as she could. "Well, it doesn't really matter. We can deal with whatever they think to send after us. Hardly a concern." Another pause. the panther now turned to her. "I doubt it." She rinsed the sand off. "Go hunt if you're that hungry. I'll catch up tomorrow." With a huff, the panther licked Roan's horse's haunch before bounding off, dodging a kick. Shaking her head, the elf continued her bath.

Roan waited patiently. He waited until the elf finished her bath and walked over to his horse. The beast whinnied, knowing this person was not his rider. But elves were known for their way with animals and her gentle elven words soon calmed the creature. She pulled a white, knee length tunic from her pack she had strapped to the horse. She was about to pull it over her head when the horse gave a pleased snort, making the elf reach for a dagger on the saddle.

Too late. She felt the cold metal press against her throat. She could feel Roan's hard male body press against her back. He grabbed her wrist with his free hand, making sure she couldn't cast any complicated spells. "You made a serious mistake, elf!"

"Not as serious as you," she hissed back. With a quick word, she brought up her other hand, opening it in front of his face. A brilliant light flashed from the middle of her palm, blinding him. He snarled, feeling her slip from his relaxed grip. Luckily, most of the light had struck his silver eye. He blinked, looking about as his vision quickly cleared. He parried the dagger that was swung at him from his side. The next swing she made, he was able to hook the dagger and wrench it from her grip. He heard her speak, a spell he knew would send fire at him.

The spell died as he suddenly shot out his hand, open toward her, a quick short word. A wall of magical force threw her back. She landed heavily on her back, gasping as her wound, though healed, throbbed in pain. Before she could leap to her feet, Roan's weight pushed her down. With a few words, roots shot out of the leaf litter, wrapping about her wrists and dragging them to the ground. He smirked down at her. He sat back, using his weight to stop her thrashing legs.

Beaten, the elf stilled under him. "What, will you kill me now, oh great powerful Seeker?"

Roan sneered at her. "I really probably ought to. You and your furry friend have been more trouble than I'm willing to put up with." He didn't bother trying to hide the fact that her breasts were quite attractive to his male eyes. He felt her squirm under him, her struggles renewing. He merely grinned. He knew he could do anything he wanted. She'd stolen property of a Seeker. He had killed men for much less, just because he was in a bad mood. However, he didn't forget that she had helped him with the vampire. That was the only reason he hadn't already slit her throat.

Finally, the elf tired herself out. The roots were simply too strong. Panting, she glared up at his grinning face. He was enjoying himself far too much. He idly drew something out of his belt, but she didn't recognize the blowdart until Draen fell from midleap, stumbled a few steps, then dropped with a dull, heavy thud. His breathing was deep and even. The elf cried out, again struggling with all her might. But now she was just too tired and Roan was much stronger. She could have beaten him in magic if only the roots hadn't also twisted around her fingers.

"There. I was waiting for him to get here. Interesting creature. Perhaps I'll keep him, any creature made by magic can be turned."

The elf snapped at him. "He's not made by magic! He is his own being! You can't turn him, he'll hunt you always!"

"Oh, pity." Roan continued to smirk at the elf. He'd actually never met an elf. He had heard of their beauty, but he had never thought they were quite so visually endowed. Despite being slender, her strong muscles rippled, her form was perfectly feminine. He could feel his blood burn. How easy it would be to sample this delicacy with her held so immobile.

He knew she was afraid despite how she glared at him. Because of that, he decided against his instincts. Anyone without fear was a fool. She was very obviously no fool. "Tell me, elf, what does your panther call you?"

A delicate brow arched. "What does it matter to you?"

Roan shrugged. "Just thought it would be nice to have a name to call you by while I take you and your friend back to headquarters. I figure I'll let them decide what to do with you. Even though you're out of the elven lands, I'm still not entirely sure whether I'm allowed to kill you or not."

The elf suddenly bared her teeth. "You bastard, you think you'll make it there alive with us in tow?"

Roan laughed. The deep sound of his humor echoed in the woods around them. The elf squirmed uncomfortably. He looked down at her, grinning. "Such hollow threats. I can keep your panther asleep the whole trip, and you I can keep bound."

The elf suddenly spat at him. He jerked back just in time, but his grin had turned into a snarl. He leaned forward. She found his knees between hers, his strong hands pulling her slender hips against his maleness so there was nothing but the strings of his leggings that separated their genders. He felt her go rigid. "If I were you, I would mind my manners. While there is a chance I'm not allowed to kill you, there are a lot of other things I could do worse than death." He saw her throat move in a dry gulp. Grinning again, Roan knew he had her attention.

"So, do you have a name or not?" He hadn't moved from his position.

"Cylthan." Her voice was subdued.

"Very simple for an elf, but at least it's a name." Finally, Roan stood, albeit with some effort. It had been a long time since his last lover. He quickly turned away from her so as to not tempt himself more. She was completely at his mercy. He could do anything he liked to her. And she knew it as well.

She squirmed. "You can't very well take me anywhere while I'm still pinned to the ground."

Roan chuckled as he stroked his horse. "I'll let you up when I'm ready."

Cylthan snorted in anger, but her eyes moved over to Draen. In the back of her mind, all she could see was darkness. She knew she could not wake her friend. He was too deeply in sleep. Giving up trying to mentally contact him, she glared back at Roan, who had turned to look at her again. He chuckled. "Your panther won't be getting up anytime soon." She looked away from him as if in submission. He approached her. "I guess elves aren't so tough without their pets."

Cylthan twisted and kicked up, catching Roan in the gut. The wind knocked from him, he couldn't cast any spells for a moment. His concentration had also been broken. Cylthan squirmed hard, feeling the smaller roots at last start snapping. Some of her fingers free, she attempted a spell. She couldn't finish before she screamed in pain. Roan stomped down on her hand, the crunch of bones and the searing pain telling her he was not lying when he said he could do terrible things to her. She grinded her teeth, tears in her eyes. The last thing she thought was that she never should have gone to warn the Seeker when she saw the shadow of the vampire follow him into the woods.

A dull pounding in her head brought Cylthan back to consciousness. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Roan's stoic face greeted her. "I admire your bravery, but it borders on stupidity."

She moved, realizing that she was clothed, but her hands were tightly bound behind her back and she was gagged. She had no idea how long she had been out, but it had been long enough for Roan to purchase a large draft horse for the sole purpose of carrying the massive Draen. His paws had been tightly bound as well.

She glared at Roan. She couldn't wiggle her fingers, but she could tell he had healed the hand he had stepped on. She knew now to be more careful.

Roan smiled smugly. He grabbed her arm and pulled her easily to her feet. "Traveling should be much easier now that you're awake." With hardly any effort, he hoisted her into the saddle. Cylthan figured that for now it was in her best interest to behave. She shifted uncomfortably as Roan drew himself up into the saddle behind her, his strong arms wrapped around her as he took the reins. With a click of his tongue, the horse started off.

They rode in silence for several hours. Unable to handle it any longer, Cylthan squirmed, making some muffled noises. Roan stopped the horses and, with a small growl, pulled her gag out of her mouth. "I'm sure as a male, you could all day without stopping, but I need to relieve myself. If you'd be so kind..."

With a grunt, Roan dismounted easily, helping Cylthan off the horse. He gave her a threatening look. "If you try anything, I might very well forego taking you in, and just deal with whatever consequences that may come from my ill-tempered decision." Cylthan pursed her lips, but gave a single nod. Roan untied her bruised wrists. She rubbed them tenderly, glaring at him. She then vanished into the brush like a shadow.

After a few moments, Roan got a little restless. He drew his dagger, ready to go into the brush after her. Something very heavy struck him in the back. He was knocked to the ground, the great weight pressing on his elbows, holding his arms still. He felt claws, heard and felt the mighty rumbling growl behind him. He looked up in time to see the giant black head come down, felt the massive fangs against the back of his neck.

"No, Draen." The panther eased the pressure of his jaws. He gave a little moaning sound, his piercing eyes flicking up to Cylthan, standing there with Roan's sword. Roan clenched his jaw in anger, but held his tongue, knowing any second the panther could snap his spine. His only hope lay in the elf's mercy.

Why not? He was more than willing to kill you! And to do other things to you. I could see it in his mind. I will not let him harm you, Cyl. Draen stood still, barely breathing.

Cylthan looked down on Roan. She knelt down to look at him. "You never did introduce yourself, Seeker. It's very rude to take prisoners without offering your name." Growling, Roan muttered his name. He could hardly breathe with the giant animal on him. The elf smiled. "Well, Roan, I'll be sure to remember you. It was an interesting time."

As she stood, Roan's world went dark.

Roan woke with a groan. He tenderly touched the side of his head. The panther had struck him so hard it had left an open gash. Sitting up slowly, Roan croaked out the healing spell, his throat dry from laying in the leaves.

Once he was done with that, he looked around. The elf bitch had taken both his horses! And, after checking himself, he realized she'd taken all his weapons and his money! Now he was truly angry. The truth was, the reason he'd really been taking her back to the castle was because he had wanted to see if he could bring her into the Seeker organization. But now, he was gonna kill her.

Picking himself up, he headed off after the trail of the horses. Night closed in quickly, and he was soon forced to stop. He started a small fire. Closing his eyes, Roan's lips moved slowly in a complex spell. He took some dry Grey's Beard lichen, sprinkling it over the fire as he continued to chant. The fire flared blue, then died down to the coals. In the shimmers of the intense heat of the blue cinders, a wavering image appeared.

"Roan, my boy, did your mission go well?" He could hear the voice as clearly as if the person truly stood before him.

Bowing his head, Roan took a deep angry breath. "No, Sir Jorsam. I was able to dispatch of Lord Zandavir, but I ran into a bit of an ... issue."

The shimmering figure cocked its head slightly. "Oh?"

Clenching his hands, Roan continued. "I met a Wild Elf in the tavern, accompanied by a giant magical panther the likes of which I've never seen. They happened to aide me in the slaying of the vampire, but then the panther magically put me to sleep, and when I'd awoken at last, they had stolen my horse. I tracked them down, put the panther under a powerful sleep spell, and bound the elf girl. I was going to bring them back to headquarters, but somehow the panther got out of my sleep spell and attacked me. They stole both my horses and everything else, left me with only my clothes."