Ghost Sentinel

BY : Dagian
Category: +G through L > Lineage 2
Dragon prints: 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Lineage2, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Belinea released the breath she’d been holding as she watched the BugBear Raider topple to the ground as night finally fell over the ancient stone ruins. Glancing upward, she caught sight of the moon as it rose majestically against the darkened sky. Not the blood red moon she was used to seeing. The Lords of Dawn, as they called themselves, must’ve have defeated the Armies of Dusk.

 

Shrugging her elegant shoulders, she hefted her Crucifix of Blessing in readiness. She had no time to waste staring at the sky, however beautiful it was. She had a goal, a mission, to become strong enough to become a wizard before daybreak. Sighting a nearby Ratman, she murmured the spell lowly under her breath at first, gradually allowing her voice to rise to a near shout as she hopped off the ground with her legs slightly spread outwards and forward as her hands came together in front of her abdomen, forcefully propelling a whirling ball of wind at her quarry.

 

Bloodlust. It hazed his mind and tunneled his vision. He saw only her, a young human female, alone. She was weak and completely unable to defend herself. His bloodied massive green hand fisted around the hilt of the enormous sword. He hated humans. Hated them fiercely. They had once belonged to the Orcs as slaves. The Orcs, his ancestors, had once dominated the lands, taking as they wished and pleased. No one, not even the Elves, had been able to stop them!

 

And then Pa’agrio had forsaken them. None, save Pa’agrio, could have foreseen the loss. The accursed Elves formed an alliance with the pitiful waste that was the humans and drove the Orcs out of their rightful place as the supreme rulers of the lands. His mind filled with rage. Before the night was through, one more human would spill their blood before his feet, dying on the ground like animals as they so deserved. He would make her suffer as he had the others for the sins of her kind before his time in this realm was over. As his blood pooled on the ground beneath him, he knew he would not last till morning. The rulers of Gludio Castle had hunted him mercilessly the past few days.

 

Belinea felt the hair on her arms stand up straight. Stopping, she turned to survey her surroundings. Warily, she turned in a slow circle. In the faint light of the moon she could see him, standing alone and only barely visible to her. Why he chose to follow her she did not know. He had never approached, choosing to shadow her, following her like a ghost. He had done this for as long as she could remember. She did not know why he had chosen to do so. There was nothing the two of them had in common.

 

She had judged his weapon and armor when she had first noticed him begin to follow her. He was powerful and highly skilled. He had a rank and station, holding a place of respect and authority in a noble clan with powerful allies. While she, she was a vagabond, a mere commoner to him. As she squinted in effort to see him better she could just make out the outline of his Vesper Bow. She had never seen him use it, but she knew the power it held. Shuddering slightly, she turned her back to him to continue her pursuit of the BugBears and Ratmen, determined to ignore his strange and somewhat unwelcome presence as best she could.

 

The archer watched her in silence, once again bewildered by his own actions. Why he was following this hapless human around? She drew him, called out to him on some unknown level. He could not stop following her. But what drew him to her? There was nothing remarkable about her. She was a simple human female. Brown hair cut short and pulled into a half ponytail with small brown eyes and narrow lips. Short in stature with a frame that indicated frailty, a beauty she was not. Even though the human female fighters he’d seen were not overly attractive, at least they didn’t give the appearance of weakness.

 

She wasn’t stunning like the Kamael women. She could not even begin to hope to compete with the dark elven women. Nor did she have the classic beauty of the light elves. So what drew him to her? He settled on tenacity. She never gave up. She would push herself to her limits and beyond before backing down. He’d first seen her on that Shilen forsaken spit of land the humans hailed from. She’d been chased by a local werewolf tribe. He’d saved her then, unbeknownst to her at the time, and had followed her ever since. It was the same tenacity that drew him to her that often got her into trouble.

 

The bloodlust reached its zenith and a mighty battle roar rent the air as the Orc charged from his place of concealment, his sword raised high.

 

            Belinea froze in terror as the massive Orc bore down on her position. He was fast, too fast for her to run from, and too strong for her to fight. She was going to die. She’d never be a wizard. Her eyes closed in preparation for the blow that would sent her to meet Einhasad and her long departed parents.

 

            A sudden thud, and then silence, forced her to open her eyes. The Orc was dead and lying sprawled at her feet. A single arrow was lodged squarely in his neck, puncturing a vital artery.

 

            Whirling around, she stared at the dark elf standing atop the hill, framed against the moon as though he’d never moved. Her strange and silent companion, the dark guardian, the Ghost Sentinel.



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