Ylvir woke from his dream, back to the reality as cold and hard as the stone he lay on. It was the usual dream--the same one he had dreamt every night since arriving at the castle for seasons on end. It wasn't even a proper dream--just a memory. One he had initially treasured, but now only served to torture him.

Now a part of the conscious world again, he sat himself up, reviewing the memory-dream as though to punish himself further.

He could easily conjure up the vision of those green eyes, staring into his, as vibrant as when he first saw them. Her lively scent was easily remembered as well, the aroma still clinging to his nose with the return of every spring. And how could he ever forget those arms, encircling his neck, embracing him as only his parents had ever dared to do. Right before they pulled away, taking his mother's necklace with them.

He growled at the thought, roughly standing himself up. He could still remember that first night the dream came to him. He had briefly imagined it was perhaps a sort of gift--an unwanted one, but a gift all the same. A last bit of happiness. And it was, until the end as the girl he saved returned the favor by stealing from him.

He had been such a fool. He should have known not to trust he would find happiness in the dream, or in anything else for that matter. He should have known not to trust the girl that night. They had accused her of thievery, had they not? That should have warned him. Maybe the dream was a gift after all. A sick, twisted gift that resolved his distrust further and let him know exactly what happened to his mother's pendant. He hadn't lost it after all. It was taken from him.

Ylvir lumbered out of his small room, taking to the castle's stony halls he had grown to know well, not that he had bothered memorizing them as they had a tendency to change on him. More than once they had led him back to a small door that opened to a cave of sorts, inside of which grew the rose that continued to taunt him as much as the dream did. It angered him enough into one of his rages, openly threatening to destroy the castle that seemed to possess a consciousness of its own as he tore a wall down in example. It hadn't led him there since.

His ears flicked as the faint sounds of familiar voices drifted through the halls as easily as himself.

"Should we tell 'im?"

"No. It's best to leave 'im."

"He'll find out sooner or later."

"All the more reason to let 'im rest, and leave it be."

"Leave what be?"

The cursed men whipped around at the sound of the familiar cold voice that never failed to send chills down their spines, gulping as his large, shadowed form slowly stepped forward. His stride alone spoke of a predator's gait, his musclebound bulk shifting oddly with deathly grace. Even as he left the shadows, they never quite left him, his fur, feathers, scales, and spines being black as the darkest night and sharp as a razor's edge. Only his piercing red eyes really stood out, studying the men with what they knew to be very limited patience.

"Well?"

Erdim stepped forward cautiously, bowing his head as he avoided Ylvir's gaze.

"Branneg went out to the port again. Says there's rumors of another attack."

Branneg was known to traverse to the port on occasion in a reconnaissance effort, gathering what news and information he could from various sources on all sorts of subjects, but most often on growing schemes to invade the castle as it pertained to themselves directly. More often than not, it proved to be advantageous, such as it did now, and helped them to better prepare themselves and plan ahead.

Ylvir's eyes swiveled to Branneg, who cowered from meeting them with his own. The other cursed men around him stepped back, letting him be the center of Ylvir's attention.

"When?"

"T-tonight, sir," he stammered.

Ylvir's rumbling growl filled the room. "And just how long were you going to try and keep this from me?"

"I-I--"

"Were you just going to wait until they were on our doorstep," Ylvir accused as he stalked closer, towering over the man. "Until they were already upon us? Until they killed me?"

"Ylvir!"

"What," he snapped, eyes blazing at Erdim who breathed heavily with his own indignation, faltering only slightly at the beast's glare.

"We're yer friends," he spoke firmly. "We'd never wish harm on ye."

"Then why is it you would not alert me," he challenged.

"Because we can 'andle it just fine on our own. And ye need the rest," Erdim answered with a sigh. "Yer gettin' worse, sir."

Ylvir stiffened at that, offering no rebuttal. He knew it was true, no matter how much he tried to deny it. He had thought maybe if he ignored it, it wouldn't be a problem. But just as Lynelda had warned him years ago, his rages had been getting not only worse, but more frequent as well. It didn't help that his fuse had shortened significantly over the course of things.

"Why don't ye just go an' rest now," Erdim said slowly. "We can see to the attack."

Ylvir bit back a snarl, trying not to prove Erdim's point. He had no wish to go back to sleep--back to the dream--so he said simply, "No. I've had enough rest."

Erdim looked like he wanted to argue the point, but all he said was a begrudging, "Very well."

Ylvir looked back to Branneg, who recoiled from his sight, making something in his chest squeeze briefly, but painfully.

"How many," he asked gruffly.

"Twenty, maybe more," the man said meekly.

Ylvir's gaze unfocused in deep thought. When he roused from them, he gave a brief nod of appreciation to the man. "Make the preparations."

"Ooh, can we do the ghosts," one man asked excitedly like a giddy child. A scuffling sound followed by a small exclamation hinted at a meaningful nudge towards the speaker, who parried with a, "What? It's been ages."

Ylvir waved a clawed hand in dismissal. "Do what you will."

The same speaker hissed a "yes!", the other men murmuring their own eagerness.

"The ghosts always gets 'em."

"Remember the one time--"

"Oh, yeah! That was a riot..."

"How about when that one..."

"Never forgot when he..."

"Haha! That was..."

Ylvir took his leave back to the shifting halls, leaving the men to enjoy each other's company more fully without his imposing presence. Though they claimed to be his friends, he was aware that he made for a terrible friend in turn. They respected him, yes, but it was more out of fear than admiration. Erdim was the only one who really ever had the gumption to go head to head with him, and even then, it was with great hesitation. It was a secret to none of the castle's inhabitants that he had a nasty temper--one that often resulted in a great amount of destruction. Even as he traveled down the halls, he could see the evidence of past fits, his claw marks gouged deeply into the stone like old scars.

His own flesh was riddled with scars that joined the ones cultivated from his childhood and his run-in with the mad beastmaster. After seasons upon seasons of similar attacks to the one coming, he had endured many physical blows from all sorts of weaponry, each seeking to claim his life, each unsuccessful. And then some were self-inflicted, the pain from injury sometimes being the only thing to discourage his mounting rages.

Ylvir sighed, touching a rough padded hand to the deep lines in the wall. He would have to endure yet another raid on the castle. He had to wonder how his life had become so tedious. Every day practically blended into the next. Nothing ever changed except himself as his rage became harder and harder to rein in. He supposed he should be grateful that he still had his life at all, but when it was so precarious, it made him rethink its value.

Letting his arm drop back to his side, he turned away, striding down the corridor, keeping his mind busy as he thought over his plans for their next invaders. He doubted things would go any differently than they did every other time, but perhaps this one would have an interesting new twist--a new challenge for his restless mind.

------

(A/N) Hi!👋

Sorry, I feel really awkward. I mean, that's pretty much a constant for me, but it feels particularly bad right now. No clue why. 😅

So I had a nerdy moment. I know I'm not the only one who gets these, but I also know not everyone is interested in hearing about them, even if I always feel super eager to share. So feel free to ignore this completely.

For those of you still interested, I'm really into music--rock specifically. I was listening to said rock music while writing when I heard one of my favorites and suddenly realised that its content was actually relevant to our favorite protagonist, Ylvir. I wonder why I hadn't realised it sooner.

The song is (drumroll, please)...

Dut-da-da-da:

"I Will Not Bow" by Breaking Benjamin!

Maybe you'll agree with me, maybe not.

Anyway, I've been told to be more brave about my own plugs, so if you're into music that's relevant to chapter content and have a love for rock like myself, then maybe you'd also like my other story, Hop, Skip, and a Jump. It's a sci-fi mystery full of humor and interesting characters. Bonus: I know you guys are interested in it, so I'll also say there's some romance a-brewing there as well. I'm rather proud of the story, as it takes a lot more critical thinking on my part and is somewhat original, so it would mean the world to me if you would give it a chance.

Either way, I'm super glad you're reading even this, so maybe I shouldn't push my meager amount of luck that far. It's amazing to me how well this book has been doing (even if it's not actually that well, by other standards not my own), and I have you all to thank.

So from the bottom of my heart, thank you. You're outstanding for bearing with me this far, and I wish you all the very best. Mwah!

TTFN! Ta ta for now!