Castor stood before Illana, shielding her from Traval with his body, the black oaken staff that aided him so much in his magic outstretched in his left hand and his right hand raised above his head with fingers stretched apart and bent to form what would most likely become the bestial claw he preferred so much in a close combat situation.  His blue eyes were almost cold, hard, a look they were practically unfamiliar with, though quite capable of holding, that completely betrayed the contempt in which he held Traval and would have utterly scared Illana if she had been able to gaze into them; fortunately for her she could not do so being behind him, but at the same time she was forced to stare into the blue hatred and rage filled eyes of their mutual enemy, Traval, whom had literally sprung from Castor himself shortly after the two had separated.  “Get out of my way, Castor,” Traval hissed menacingly.  “It’s her death I’m here for, not yours.  Don’t you want revenge for what she did to you?”  Traval was still trying his best to cause Castor to falter in his beliefs so the two could again join under one cause:  Traval’s cause… to wreak havoc upon humanity.

            “Revenge for what she did to me?” Castor scoffed, rolling his eyes at Traval as the muscles in his shoulders tightened even more and he tightened his grip on his staff at the thoughts now running rampant through his head.  Illana thought, as she watched most all the muscles in his body tighten all at once, that if his muscles tightened any more or he tightened his grip on the staff any more something was surely going to give, whether it be his muscles, the tendons holding his muscles to their appropriate bones, the bones themselves or even his staff.

“She did nothing to me, now that I’ve taken the time to stop and look at it without my pain, without my anger towards you, I shouldn’t have expected from the beginning.  You know, I’ve thought a lot about what you’ve told me during our repeated confrontations, and I’ve come to realize you were nothing more than meaningless words and hollow threats.”  He paused.  “You were dead wrong about everything.  To let you in on the truth I’ve come to realize after my long meditation upon the subject, Traval, it was not her who was not worthy of me as you are so hell bent on believing.  It was I who was not worthy of her all along.  Me, Traval!”  Castor almost shouted at the top of his lungs, his shout voicing the anger and frustration he felt towards himself.  “Do you hear what I’m telling you, Traval? I was the one all along, not her.” 

He regained his composure, bringing his voice back down to its normal volume, no longer shouting at Traval because of the anger he felt towards himself for something he believed to be his own inanity.  “I should have seen that from the start, but I was a fool, blinded by love to the truth staring me directly in the face from the first moment I set eyes upon her.  I never once saw it, and because of that foolishness, you came about.  You want so desperately to believe she created you through the pain I incurred at losing her because you don’t want to face the fact it was I who did this… you want so desperately to kill the person who made you the way you are that you are completely unwilling to admit and most likely have blinded yourself to the fact it was I because I can still be of use to you.  Well, you know what? It was I who created you, caused you to be as you are, caused you to be what you are no matter what you believe, so it is my death you have come here for this day.  And if you are still hell bent on killing her today, you’re going to have to fight through me to do so because it’ll be over my inanimate body that you will physically harm her.”

            Castor, do you really believe you were unworthy of me? Illana thought to herself.  Oh, Castor, you were never unworthy of me.  You are so kind and generous, so loving and giving that you’re worthy of any woman you set your heart upon.  You deserved better than what I did to you…so much better than what I did to you.  I can’t possibly allow you to die defending me after the hell I put you through to bring about that abomination.  Many emotions flooded through Illana as she thought to herself, speaking to Castor though he could not hear it… unless he were trying to do so, but he was to completely absorbed with Traval to worry about anything going on inside Illana’s mind.  Emotions she had kept locked up inside her heart away from the world and even those closest to her for so long... for so many years, keeping them to herself for fear of someone stomping upon them and devastating her. And the most predominant was the guilt she felt for what she now believed she had done to Castor, the stomping and devastating she now believed she saw she had done.  But these emotions paralyzed her, keeping her deathly still in her tracks, unable to force herself into a battle with Traval, the battle he wanted with her and which Castor now intended to fight for her… which Castor was determined to fight instead of her.

            Traval’s eyes flicked from Illana’s vexed face looking over Castor’s left shoulder to Castor’s rock hard, almost unrecognizable face and back again.  He was extremely upset that Castor would still not let go of his ways, and it showed heavily in his eyes and especially in the tone of his voice when he answered in a hiss as vehement as any viper’s directed at Illana, “You did this to him.”  He sounded like a viper uncoiling in preparation to strike, and his stance, the way his muscles tightened and relaxed in rapid, graceful succession, told much the same thing.  His icy blue eyes were cold and calculating, his gaze possibly enough to freeze a person’s blood as she knew from experience the slightest touch from him could do.  “I will have your heart for making him so soft, and I’ll feed it to him on a silver platter!” he laughed maniacally, his eyes, Castor’s bright, beautiful blue eyes turned icy and hateful belied a mirth neither Illana nor Castor could fathom.  “We’ll see just how soft you are then, Castor,” he continued harshly, spitting the words like venom from concealed fangs, as he stared directly into Castor’s eyes.  His tone though harsh was matter of fact, and his eyes were cold and hard again, his hatred and rage again showing through in them.  Traval was not joking in any way, and he wanted to make sure both Castor and Illana knew it.  “So move, Castor, because I don’t want to have to kill you.”

            “You’re still going to have to fight through me to kill her, as I said before and will continue to say, because I’ll die fighting you before I’ll allow you, my mistake, to kill her.  Besides, the only revenge I want is for what you did to Tyvarious.”  Traval blinked in astonishment as Castor continued with this statement before Traval could muster the words to fight back the insult just thrown directly into his face.  “Yes, I know it was you who tried to kill him, or rather murder him if you’re actually as bad as you’d like to make us all believe you are, and yes, I said it exactly as I meant it to be said.  You tried to kill him.  Remember, my dear Traval, he’s a Thaumaturge like you and I, and a Vampiric one at that, just like you and I.  Now are we going to just stand here and chit-chat all day, Lord knows it’s boring me, or are you actually going to do something… or just prove that I was right in saying you’re nothing more than meaningless words and hollow threats?”  As he spoke, Castor’s raised right hand began to twist and contort into the bestial claw that he had previously had it mimicking.

Traval threw aside his black oaken staff, it striking the wall behind him and clattering to the floor, and as that one sound echoed through the quiet and stillness of Castor’s home, he raised his hands before him.  He said nothing, only glaring at Castor with hate in his eyes as his hands also began to twist and contort transforming into hideous claws like Castor’s but instead made of bone.  Castor dropped his own ebony staff behind him, fully extending his left arm to the side with his hand palm towards Traval and fingers again stretched and bent in the mimicking of the bestial claw.  As Castor’s left hand began to twist and contort into the bestial claw, fingers growing longer, thinner and changing form from actual fingers to claws much like a wolf’s, skin being replaced with fur in some places, Traval spoke, “Is it really a fight you wish with me, Castor?  Do you really believe you have it in you, really believe you can muster the strength of will to fight me, a being you know full well to be a part of you, much less kill me, Castor?  What happened to ‘I’m not a fighter’?”  He held his hands before him, palms towards his own face as a boxer would to protect his face from his opponent’s blows, his claws of bone from Castor and Illana’s perspective seeming to cut his face into seven tiny pieces, his eyes just above what had been his pinkie fingers.  Traval’s icy blue eyes told the anger he felt towards Castor at this point in time and told of a fear he would not allow himself to admit existed… a fear that he might actually have to kill Castor or even worse that Castor might actually be able to kill him, that he might actually lose this battle to an opponent he thought to weak to be of any challenge.  The evil grin upon his face, cut into three of the seven tiny pieces, however, contradicted his fear and gave him an extremely sinister and monstrous appearance that even Castor and Illana, who had dealt with him already before in situations almost resorting to an all out fight, had never seen.

 “Come on, Castor, let’s forget about that tiny incident involving Tyvarious.  It was a misunderstanding that, I really must inform you, he completely asked for, and in which I was merely teaching him a lesson he would not easily forget.  He came after me with the intent to kill, the misunderstanding, and I merely showed him he was not yet powerful enough to do so, the lesson.  Let’s forget that and forget everything else, Castor.  Join with me again, Castor.  Aid me in bringing pain and misery to this world as our nature would have us do, and I’ll even promise you that her life,” he jerked his head towards Illana who still stood behind Castor looking over his shoulder, “will be spared.”  His tone of voice was quite genuine though it was easily told he was not happy about having to resort to allowing her, the target of most all his hatred and rage, to live after the injury he believed done.  “Join me, Castor.  Aid me, and she’ll live.  That’s all you have to do to save her life.  This fight you are so bent on having doesn’t have to take place.”

            Castor lowered his clawed hands marginally, his gaze still steadied upon Traval, as though he contemplated Traval’s offer, but he immediately brought the claws back up to a readied position answering, his tone of voice and eyes exuding a calm air about him that he himself did not at all feel, “Are you afraid that I might win, Traval?  Is that it?  Are you that afraid of me possibly winning that you’re willing to promise her survival if I’ll join with you?  You’re willing to promise the life of the one person you’ve sought to torture, the one person that your hatred and rage has been aimed at since your creation if I’ll just join with you?”  He smiled bemusedly as he lowered his claws again, this time hunching over slightly with the palms of his hands facing Traval in a battle readied stance.  “You’re actually afraid you might lose, aren’t you, Traval?”  Castor chuckled slightly.

            He really is willing to die for me, Illana thought.  Why, Castor?  Why are you willing to die for me after what I did?  I do not deserve your loyalty.  I don’t deserve you.  After what I did, I deserve to die as Traval says.  Instead of causing Castor to falter in his beliefs, Traval caused Illana to lose faith in herself, to start doubting herself as she, a being so sure of herself as to lend self-assurance to others by just being in contact with them, had never done before.  He caused her to believe she had actually done wrong, when in fact she had done the right thing in that situation, done exactly what Castor had expected her to do.

            “I’m not afraid of you… you weak, pathetic excuse for a vampire!” Traval hissed.  “You couldn’t defeat me on your best day!”  His tone lightened slightly, “I merely don’t wish to kill you and thought maybe you’d give in if I promised you what you want… what you’re willing to give your pathetic unlife for.  Evidently I was wrong.”

            “Or simply underestimated me and my devotion to what I believe to be the right and just thing,” Castor threw back sharply, his tone of voice more keen than the edge of any blade.

            “Enough with words, Castor!” Traval shouted acidly as his clawed right hand slashed through the air suddenly to emphasize his words… the words right and just evidently being too much for him.  “This is the final time I’ll say it.  Decline, and you’ll pay for your weakness.  Join me, and I’ll spare her pathetic life.”

            Castor answered Traval but never spoke a word to him, speaking as calm as possible to Illana, “Pick up my staff, Illana, and back away from this.  This is between him and me now as it should have been from the beginning.”  He never took his eyes from Traval to speak to Illana, and his calm tone spoke to her of the fear that he might lose this fight, thus failing her, and even beneath that the underlying strength of will his somber and withdrawn exterior hid so well.

            “But, Castor…” she tried to argue, her disbelief in herself forcing her to voice the guilt she bore, though she hadn’t the words to do so, but was silenced quickly.

            “You heard me, Illana.”  He did not raise his voice the slightest bit, but it still held a note of authority so strong and impossible to defy that it completely surprised her to hear it emanating from him.  “This is between him and me.  It’s time I evened the score with him for what he’s done to you and all the rest of my friends… time I right the mistake I made in him.  If you ever truly loved me, then stay out of this as I ask.”  Though her guilt was almost too much to bear and her disbelief in herself made her want to allow Traval to kill her, made her want to just walk over to Traval and offer him her throat, Illana spoke not another word, forcing herself to bend over quietly and pick up his staff before backing away as he had asked.  As she backed away from him slowly, his highly polished, ebony staff clutched firmly in her hands and any other arguments she might have had thrown out the window of her mind, she whispered to him, barely loud enough for even her to hear it:

            “I still love you, Castor.”  She had barely gotten his name out her mouth before Traval growled loudly at Castor, piercing the uneasy silence of their glaring at each other, as he launched himself full force at him with his clawed right hand aimed for Castor’s face.  Castor was slightly faster than Traval, moving his head to the side to avoid the blow that flew harmlessly over his left shoulder and bringing his own body forward to put his shoulder squarely into Traval’s chin.  Traval staggered back from the blow, and Castor tried to bear down on him, flashing his claws in a blur of movement for Traval’s chest.  This time Castor was the slow one as Traval evaded his blows, continuing to backpedal away from the onslaught.

            Traval soon found himself backed against the wall as Castor tried to finish the fight right then and there with a forward thrust of his right claw to try and tear out Traval’s heart, but Traval was again just faster than Castor, side stepping the blow as he brought his left hand up and about full force back-handed style across Castor’s face.  Castor’s claw clattered against the wall as his head was knocked full right and Traval pushed himself off the wall with all his might, bowling Castor over as he drove his shoulder into Castor’s chest.  Castor struck the floor hard with a sickening thud but was otherwise unfazed. 

            Traval placed both claws upon the ground and forcefully but agilely threw himself into the air, doing a flip in mid air and landing lithely upon his feet with his bone claws before him in a readied position again as Castor rolled backwards, back onto his feet, and turned about to face him, claws also in a readied position before him.  “Come on, Castor.”  Traval was almost to the point of pleading with him.  “Things don’t have to be this way.  Neither of you has to die if you’ll just side with me.  We can be one again, Castor.”

            “We’ll be one again, Traval… we’ll be one again shortly.  You can count on it.”  Castor grinned evilly, baring his fangs to Traval as he lunged at him, springing forward and bringing his claws down in an arch aimed for his head.  Traval raised his own claws and planted himself, catching Castor’s weight without moving even the slightest bit, their claws now interlocked.

            Traval gave a wicked smile.  “That’s it, Castor.  Let the monster out.  Show your true nature to Illana.  Show your true nature to yourself and me.  Show us all just how similar we are.”

            “I’m nothing like you!” Castor growled as he tried to push Traval to his knees.  “We’re nothing alike!”

            “You are, Castor, don’t you see that?  You’re enjoying this as much as I am.” Traval exerted the leverage he had and practically sprang up towards Castor, throwing his arms flailing and bringing his claws down in a huge swipe across Castor’s chest.  The bone bit deep into Castor’s flesh and sent him reeling back towards the wall, Traval trying to bear down on Castor in the same fashion Castor had him before, but as Traval had been, Castor was just quick enough to avoid all his blows.  As Castor found himself backed against the wall, Traval tried to bring his claws down at his head this time, but Castor was able to bring his claws up and catch Traval’s, interlocking them yet again.

            “I’m not enjoying this, Traval,” he replied.  “You left me no other choice.  I fight because of that.”

            “You’re a monster, Castor!  So start acting like one!”  Castor pushed himself forcefully from the wall almost driving Traval to his knees with the suddenness and force of the action, but Traval thought quickly upon his feet and instead fell to his back gently and rolled over, throwing Castor back towards Illana as he drug him down with him and kicked him over.  Castor shifted his momentum in mid air and landed gracefully upon his feet as Traval placed his claws behind him and forcefully pushed himself back up to his feet before turning back around to face Castor.

            “You’re the monster, Traval, not me,” Castor shouted as he flung himself back towards Traval.  They again interlocked claws as Traval caught his charge.  “You fight to cause pain.  I fight to protect, not only myself but my friends and most especially Illana.”

            He still loves me, Illana thought suddenly, the realization finally striking her through the haze of self-doubt she found herself mired in… striking her so suddenly that it almost buckled her knees.  She had begun to believe he was finally over her after Traval stopped showing his face for that brief time.  That’s why he fights for me.  That’s why he’s willing to die for me.  He still loves me, too.  And I don’t understand why still.  Why do you still love me so, Castor?

            Traval threw him violently back towards Illana and lunged at him with his claws flashing.  “Shut up about that bitch!” he shouted as Castor batted away every blow with his own claws.  “She deserves only death!”  They interlocked claws again, staring eye to eye, Traval’s blazing with hate and rage and Castor’s with a strength of will Traval had never known him to possess and a confidence Traval would never have expected Castor to possess in the heat of a battle.  Castor calmed drastically and then smiled.  “What are you smiling about?!” Traval demanded of Castor as they began to circle with their claws still interlocked.

            “You just don’t get it, do you, Traval?  You can’t beat me.”

            “I will beat you!  I will kill you, and then I’ll have her heart on a silver platter!”

            “You can’t beat me, Traval, because you do not fight with truth in your heart, only anger, hate and rage.  You lie to yourself to build them up, and you will never beat me with them.”

            “I will kill you with these.”  He tried to push his claws towards Castor’s throat but was met with defeat as Castor pushed back, the final outcome being a stalemate.  They continued to circle, blood upon the floor between them from the wound that Traval had put upon Castor’s chest but which Castor had already healed, their claws still interlocked and their eyes locked upon the other’s. 

            As they continued to circle one another, Traval gave Castor a wicked grin just before he flailed out with his right foot, kicking him hard in the stomach.  Castor doubled over from the blow but also being a quick thinker put the pain to the back of his mind and put his shoulder into Traval’s stomach as hard as he could.  With Traval now doubled over his back, Castor lifted up, picking his adversary up and throwing him to a hard landing over his shoulder and onto the well worn stone floor with a dull thud upon his back.  Castor spun left, turning about to face the now sprawled out Traval as Traval swiped up with his claws at his back, avoiding the blow he hadn’t even known was coming.  With the grace of a well trained dancer, Castor came out of his spin, planted himself, and leapt into the air, putting claws straight down beneath him and aimed at Traval’s body.  Traval rolled just out of reach of Castor’s attack and swung at his face with his right hand as Castor’s claws clattered against the stone floor and he landed upon one knee.  Castor turned his head just far enough to avoid the brunt of the attack but bone bit into the flesh of his left cheek, and blood soon began to trickle down his face from the shallow gash.  Traval got back to his feet, and Castor straightened back up just before they began to circle one another again.

            “So who’s going to beat who now, Castor?” Traval asked with a hint of sarcasm to his voice as he raised his right claw to his mouth, parted his lips and teeth, and licked the blood off his middle “finger”.

            “Your mind games don’t work, Traval,” Castor replied calmly.  The gash on his cheek could no longer be seen, but the trail of blood was still quite visible upon it.  “I’m smarter than most the rest of your adversaries.  You can’t get to me that easily.”

            “But that’s just it, my dear Castor, I did get to you that easily.”  He smiled evilly.  “Did you really think I believed my mind games would affect you?  If you did, then you’re not as smart as you think.  I knew exactly how to get to you from the day you created me.” He turned his right hand around so the palm was facing Castor and extended his bony index finger towards Illana.  “I’ve always known she was the easiest way to get to you, Castor, one of your weakest spots.  Why do you think I’ve always gone after her?  My hatred for her wasn’t enough by itself to kill her.  The pain and anguish hurting her caused you kept her alive this long, and now it’s her death I desire to cause you more.  You’ll be the monster your nature as a vampire would have you be before I’m through, Castor.”

            “I’ll never be like you, Traval.  I’d sooner die!”

            “She’ll be meeting you in hell then!”  Traval shouted as he flung himself at Castor, claws flashing wildly yet again.  Though Traval’s fury was great and the speed of his claws possibly greater, Castor managed to bat all of Traval’s blows away with his own claws.  With his right arm lowered and bent, claw towards Traval, Castor grabbed hold of Traval’s right wrist and pulled him forcefully towards him, yanking him off balance and pulling him directly onto his extended right claw as he thrust it forward.  Traval’s eyes went wide with the pain, and Castor raised his arm lifting Traval off the floor before flailing forcefully forward, throwing Traval towards the wall.  He struck the wall with a grisly thud though there was no sound of bones breaking.  He stood almost immediately, as though the collision with the wall and Castor’s claw being in his stomach hadn’t even fazed him, though the look in his eyes showed of astonishment.  “I’m impressed, Castor,” he grinned almost congratulatory.  He reached down and dabbed at his stomach with his right hand, lifting it and examining the blood now on his index claw.  “That was quite the move.  I never saw it coming.”  As he spoke, the wound on his stomach healed.  “I suppose I actually did underestimate you, but no matter.  You’ll still never win, and all this fight is doing is postponing the inevitable.”  His mouth contorted into his evil grin again.  “Her death,” he continued, jerking his chin harshly towards Illana who stood still as a statue, Castor’s staff clutched firmly in her hands as she watched the battle play out before her, forbidden by Castor to get involved. 

            With his icy glare now upon her, Illana’s guilt flared like the fires of a forge being stoked by the skilled hands of the blacksmith who worked it, threatening to strangle her, though she didn’t breath, knotting in her throat thick and heavy and making her want to wretch to try and dislodge it.  The more her guilt built, the closer she came to wanting to just give in to Traval and let him kill her… to be done with this whole mess… to be rid of the guilt she bore and the pain it caused in both her and Castor.  But she couldn’t bring herself to do so because Castor continued to fight for her, and she would not allow his efforts go to waste… In the very darkest recesses of her mind, she knew that if Castor failed, dying in this fight with Traval to protect her from him, she’d have to fight him then so his death would also not be wasted.

            Castor grinned slightly himself, blood from Traval’s stomach dripping to the floor from his right claw.  “True, her death is inevitable as is yours and as is mine,” he said flatly and emotionlessly.  “Even the immortal vampire does not live forever.”  He chuckled slightly to himself, the oxymoron he had just uttered forcing it from him.

            “You find yourself, funny, do you, Castor?”  Traval hissed.  “We’ll see just who’s laughing when this is finished!”  He launched himself from the wall as though to accent his words, springing forward violently at Castor like a cat pouncing upon its prey, his bone claws slashing through the air wildly as he tried to connect with Castor’s throat. 

            “Is that the best you can do, my dear Traval?” Castor snorted frivolously as he effortlessly warded off every swipe of Traval’s flashing claws, their contact ringing out almost deafeningly as it echoed off the walls of the otherwise quiet and devoid room.  His demeanor was calm and collected, extremely reserved and relaxed, as though that one attack, which had taken Traval completely by surprise, had been enough to turn the tide of battle in his favor after it had first appeared he’d get a thorough trouncing.  Traval doubled and then redoubled his efforts, mustering all the speed he could and a great deal of his anger and rage with it, yet, Castor remained completely composed under the heat and intensity of Traval’s fury, Traval’s rage, again warding off every blow with an ease and grace completely contradictory of any of Castor’s own assurances that he was not a fighter… with an ease and grace that would have even envied Marauc whom Castor thought was most likely unmatched in grace and skill in all the world.  “Because if it is the best you can do, you’re in for one hell of a shock when what you say comes true and we are together again, under one cause… a hell of a shock because it will not be as you hoped and dreamed… it’ll be under my cause!”  He threw aside both Traval’s whirling claws as he exclaimed this, throwing Traval off balance with the same motion before bringing his right claw forward into Traval’s chest with such force as to send him reeling across the floor into the wall with blood splattering everywhere from the wound upon his chest.

            Traval caught his weight upon the wall with both claws, managing to keep himself erect upon his feet while blood slowly seeped out the holes on his chest from Castor’s bestial right claw.  He healed the wound without hesitation, not even bothering to think about the act, doing it instinctively as his nature dictated, but he found his strength waning as he stood there with the wall his only assurance he’d not fall to the floor.   In his fury he’d used too much blood attempting to slash open Castor’s throat and hopefully lift his head clean from his body in the same fluid attack, ending the battle, and for some reason felt Castor’s strength building, felt Castor’s fury building as well, and found that he almost regretted having chosen to infuriate Castor to the point where he finally took action to stand and fight him, found that he now knew Castor had been right all along… that he could never defeat Castor.  Nonsense, he screamed inside his mind, his fury rebuilding though it could do nothing for the waning of his strength, the loss of his vital blood, I can, and I will defeat Castor!

            He’s playing opossum, Illana shouted in her mind, unable to voice her thoughts to Castor in warning as she watched him jump into the offensive, rushing up to Traval quicker than she had ever seen him move, quicker than his lanky frame should have allowed him to move, planting both his claws with an audible clack into the wall next to Traval’s head, almost taunting Traval to make a move, play his final card whatever it might be.  “How does it feel to know you can’t triumph?” Castor asked Traval almost acidly, fangs bared, his calm and collected air now gone, replaced by a fury and relentlessness Traval could feel pressing down upon him… a fury and relentlessness more akin to a berserker than to a Vampiric mage who had always assured those around him he was not a fighter but a mage and nothing more.  Traval hissed viciously, pushing himself from the wall in a flash of bone and fury, flailing out wildly with all his rage to strike Castor down, but Castor quickly, adeptly spun away from Traval’s flashing claws as he brought his left claw up and about, across Traval’s exposed shoulder with –to Castor—the almost delightful and satisfactory sounds of flesh being torn asunder and Traval hissing in maddened pain.

            Castor continued to spin away from Traval’s furious onslaught, looking the part of a dancer more than a Vampiric mage stuck in a combat to the death with a being that in essence was himself, Traval’s claws narrowly missing him any number of times as he spun.  He spun for a few more rotations before coming out of his spin in a sudden burst of movement almost too quick for Illana to catch where he planted his feet harshly and caught both of Traval’s wrists, pulling him forward and off balance to himself and planting his right knee squarely in his stomach.  Traval’s face distorted with pain as he doubled over from the force of the blow to his stomach and then caught Castor’s right knee again, this time planted squarely against his nose, knocking his head back violently and him to the floor in a crumpled heap as Castor released his wrists.  Castor was on top of him instantly, seizing hold his wrists again to pin them against the floor and his knees planted firmly in his shoulders, pinning them to the floor as well.  “Give up Traval,” he… pleaded… Illana thought she heard him pleading… “because you can’t beat me seeing as your strength is already waning.”

            Traval managed to muster enough strength, mainly by force of will alone, to heave up and toss Castor off him but could not get to his feet quick enough to follow up while Castor was stunned by the suddenness of the attack, allowing Castor to already be on his feet and about to pounce as he got his feet under him and turned about to face Castor.  Traval saw in his crystal blue eyes, the expression of his face, the way his fangs were bared like a beast, that he had finally driven Castor over the line, driven him to fury and rage, the beast within, but to his chagrin found that it had done him absolutely no good, did nothing but strengthen Castor’s resolve to lead a righteous life, did nothing but drive Castor father from him, drove Castor to this point:  a fight to the death to protect Illana and himself.  Traval saw in all this that Castor had chosen to embrace the beast within, subverting it to his desire instead of allowing it to take control of him as Traval had hoped, and this realization froze Traval in his place, unable to do anything but gape in awe and horrid realization as Castor thrust forward with his right claw, tearing into his chest where his heart rested, wrenching his hand free almost instantly with Traval’s cold, black heart clutched within it.

            Traval opened his mouth to speak, to actually congratulate… to actually congratulate Castor but could do nothing but gurgle up blood as he felt his body’s life fading… and watched his heart fade as well, being absorbed by Castor’s hand it appeared.  He fell to his knees before Castor, blood spilling freely from his mouth and gushing grotesquely from the hole in his chest to puddle upon the worn stone of the floor, the realization that Castor had been working the counter spell to his creation the entire while they’d been fighting the last thing to strike him before his body struck the floor face-first and lifeless, his spirit being forced back into residence within Castor’s body where it had originally commenced existence, being forced back into coexistence with Castor.