Nightwing 4 Chapter 4

Web Novel Nightwing 4 Chapter 4. If you are looking for Nightwing 4 Chapter 4 you are coming to the right place.
Nightwing is a Webnovel created by Bruce_Hickman.
This lightnovel is currently ongoing.

“Let me tell you a tale of magic and wonderment” calls out a tall, lengthy man in travel worn clothes carrying a lyre. He began to sing his song even though no one appeared to be interested at first, but as the story he told became more intriguing, more people began to gather around. Little kids were awe struck by the tale of winged creatures that hunted like wild animals in the night. Those that had seen them or heard about them began to rustle in the crowd and talk amongst themselves, sharing their own tales of the winged creatures. After the bard had finished his tale, the crowd cheered and called for more but he merely bowed and said,

“That is merely a taste of the tales that I have in store for you good folks but now is not the time for that. I would like to get cleaned up and I hope to see you all at tonight’s festival, where I will gladly sing you many tales of the great winged creatures.” With that the bard took his leave to the towns only Inn, where he paid for the finest room for the next week, and told the Inn keeper that there would be an extra ten gold pieces in it for him if he was not disturbed while he slept.

The prospect of gold brought a gleam to the Inn keepers eye and he a.s.sured the bard that he would not be disturbed. If he needed anything at all, he need only to ask. He went to his room and removed all his clothes accept for his loincloth that was customary to the Vampiric race. He stretched and unfolded his wings. It felt good to get those human coverings off, he thought to himself as he stretched his wings to their full twenty-eight foot length. It was nearly impossible due to the size of the room but fortunately for him the best room the Inn had just happened to be a full thirty feet in length.

Even though he was shorter than the average Vampiric, his height of six foot ten inches was still imposing to most people he came across. The bard had an advantage that none of the others had. He looked human compared to the other Vampirics. Even though he had darker skin than the average person, most a.s.sociated it with the time he spent on the road in the hot sun, and that was why he had such dark skin tones. Why he looked the way he did and not like the others was a mystery he did not wish to solve. He was merely happy that he could pa.s.s as a normal human, for that he thanked the lord and prayed everyday that he may someday be truly human once again.

Now he would rest for he was weary from his travels and tonight he would do to this town what he done to every town he had been through in the last two hundred years. He would spin tales that the towns’ people would never forget and then in the dark and cover of night, he would fly off and never be seen by these people again. There would be tales told and songs sung of his time in this little town and the Inn keeper who was so kind to him, would find a gift greater than he could have ever imagined.

The Innkeeper made sure that the bard was not disturbed by the patrons. He ordered the door and walls within five feet of the room padded so as to lower the chances of noise waking him. He also kept the rooms next to his empty so not to disturb his high paying patron as was customary for the Inn keeper to do in the case of important or well paying customers, especially when there was the promise of money involved with any special deeds that might need to be done.

After what seemed an eternity of sleep, the bard rose and prepared for his first night in the small town. He knew that it would not be easy to impress these people. He knew that he would have to begin with a tale that was well known and had been pa.s.sed on and altered through out the generations of people. As more people gather around to hear the tales they have heard so many times before but are always willing to listen and here the bards’ tale. After all no two bardic tales were ever the same.

The bard took his place on the stage and bowed to the crowd gathered around. He took up his lyre and tested the strings. He cleared his throat and looked out into the faces of those gathered around deciding what tale to tell, with the awe and wonderment of the children in the front rows. That was when he chose the best tale of all, the tale of the first Vampiric. He began to sing the soft song of love and deceit, after a few minutes he could see the crowd was lost in his smooth flowing voice. The words pouring out in the most beautiful tones that the towns people had ever heard and would never hear again once he was gone, so it went on for what seemed on eternity. The crowd that had gathered around didn’t seem to mind.

They were captivated with his song and would give anything to hear it all but as the tale came to a close, his hold over the crowd faded as well. As they came out of their trances, they began to cry for more. So he did give them more, he sang tales of love; tales of battles won and lost, of hearts broken and promises made. He sang tales all day long until the sun had come down and almost out of sight, yet the towns’ people still called out for more.

The bard would give them more with the coming of the new day. With that he took his leave back to the Inn where he would rest from the days show and prepares for his nightly hunt.

The new day would bring new tales to weave. This would go on until it was time for him to take his leave and even the town may never know his name, they would never forget the bard that held them captivated for so many days. The bard that had made them cry out for more and pray for a short night so that they could hear new tales with the coming of the dawn. There would always be the day when they would gather, but he would already be gone, in flight, on his way to the next town. To his next crowd of captivated listeners and a new Innkeeper to tempt with the promise of gold.

The bards only fear was that the people would find out what he was and then his dream of humanity would be lost forever. He is a bard, a musician, a lover and a former warrior but he was not always a bard of tales. He was once one of the most feared warriors of his time but one day in battle the Lord spoke to him.

The Lord said “Savirion; you have done many evil and vile things in this world. You have brought fear and disgust to this world. That has not been seen since the time before the dawn. You have terrorized these people long enough and now you must repent for you crimes against man, so that you will never forget I have transformed you into the thing you desire most, humanity. You are not human you are still a Vampiric and if you ever want to be human again, you must never let anyone know that you are a Vampiric. If any should discover your secret, you will revert back to the way you were before. How you hide your secret is up to you but remember, I am always watching.

It came to pa.s.s that he chose to be a bard and spread joy and happiness to the people he met rather than fear and hatred. So for a thousand years he has done so, hoping that the Lord would see it in his infinite kindness to grant him that which he seeks so desperately.

The next morning began a new day of tales and listeners, new children to awe with his words and elders to correct at those appropriate times. There would even be those that would tell their own version of the tales that they had heard. There would always be those who would dispute everything and say it’s all a bunch of folk tales, stories made up to scare the young children into behaving for their parents.

None of that really seemed to matter though, all he ever thought about from day to day was his humanity. He would have given anything to have kept it and not become the freak that he considered himself to be. He would curse his mother for the spell she cast upon him but he also praised her. She gave him the strength that was denied him because of a childhood illness that left him crippled and weak. On his birthday he transformed into the mighty beast of the Vampiric race but he was not as tall and his strength was not commonly strong.

He was unique. His strength was surprising, even to him. He only stood at a height of six foot ten but he was by far the strongest of all the Vampirics that had ever existed. He could only a.s.sume that it was because of his defiance at the time of the awakening but it mattered not to him. All he cared about was revenge on those that took advantage of him.

He sang tales of violent battles this day. The people were so quiet as he told his tale that if you were to drop a rock in a pond. The sound would be shattering to the straining ears of those around the stage. He was magnificent as he spoke, women would melt and men would grow envious of his power over those around him. When he spoke, rooms would get quiet and conversations would stop as they all listened to what he had to say. Only this day there would be trouble for the peaceful bard.

A stranger was on the horizon, a tall man, dark and foreboding, his head buried deep in a draping cloak. His stature was monstrous. He was taller than any man in the city, reaching a height of seven feet and three inches. He seemed perfectly harmless as he entered the township but the bard knew what he was and feared his presence. There were often times when they were able to sense their own kind when they were within a few feet of each other. Not all of them could do it. There were those who could and those who had no idea that it could even be done.

The stranger stood amongst the crowd and listened to the tale that was being told. After a time, he began to scowl at the bard and tried to taunt him into a defensive posture so that he might know this one better. When the bard failed to miss a beat or even be bothered by the taunts, he decided that it was time for more drastic measures. He cried out, “That is a blatant lie. Vampirics are not all evil. You are perverting the story so the crowd will be captivated and you will have an ever-present audience to entertain.”

“That is not what I said” he replied. “I was merely trying to say that for the most part, Vampirics are not the best of beings. I did not say that they were evil, and just who are you to question my tales anyway?” This seem to anger the man. The people around him began to back up as a low growl came from out of the cloak. He reached up and with a black clawed hand; he drew back the cowl and removed the cape, throwing it down on the ground. He stretched what appeared to be impossibly large bat like wings. He threw his head back and let a roar that reached deep into the hearts of those around him. For a split second, it held an icy cold grip over them.

He cried out, “I am known as Hawk and I challenge you to a fight. Prove to me that you are right by defeating me in hand to hand combat human, or do you fear the Vampiric race so.” The last comment made those around begin to stir and talk amongst themselves in low hushed whispers, not wanting to upset the Vampiric any more than he already was.

Savirion became angered at the taunt used by Hawk and almost revealed the one thing he could never reveal to any human. He knew that he would lose face with the people if he didn’t accept the challenge laid out before him. So he hopped down off the stage, set his lyre down and approached Hawk. The crowd backed up into a circle as the two beings prepared to fight it out. The tension was high as they sized each other up for the fight, each trying to figure out what the other might do. Then the first strike came like a bolt of lightning from the heavens. Hawk launched himself forward into the small frame of Savirion, knocking him off of his feet.

He quickly regained his ground and forced Hawk to stand still as the crowd roared for blood and mayhem. As the two lock in battle, ripping and clawing like two animals in a struggle for a freshly killed deer. The battle raged on for what seemed like hours, neither really doing any real damage to the other. It didn’t really seem to matter to the crowd. All they cared about was the antic.i.p.ation of possible blood shed by one of the two beings fighting. That’s when the unthinkable happened.

Hawks claws had managed to do enough damage to Savirions clothes that the pressure of wings pressing against them finally caused them to tear away, revealing his deepest secret, one he had managed to keep from the human race for over a hundred years. Now his secret was out. This caused a rage to well up within Savirion like he had never known. He let out a cry of rage and fear, crying out in a deep guttural voice,

“NOOOOOOOOO…” It was a cry like no man had ever heard before and no man would ever hear again.

“You! I would rip out your heart, if Vampirics had a heart, but you know as well as I that we do not. It is that reason and that reason alone that I will let you live to see another day!” Savirion cried out.

Hawk replied “you are not strong enough to defeat me. You are not a true Vampiric; you are a mere freak and could never hope to defeat a true Vampiric.” Hawks taunts did exactly as he hoped they would. They angered Savirion to the point where he staked his claim on his Vampiric state and form claiming that he was as much a Vampiric as Hawk was. That was how he could defeat him because he had faith in his own abilities as a Vampiric. This seemed to anger Hawk but he was able to hide it with the practice of a trained fighter, never letting his enemy see his true emotions. For a split second, he slipped and lost control.

That was all Savirion needed to see that what he said had effected him greatly. That was why he would win this battle. He had over his doubt and fears. He had finally accepted the fact that he was Vampiric and that was a great gift given to him. He would not give it up for anything, not even his precious humanity. He realized that being a Vampiric was not a curse but a gift, one of the greatest gift known to man. He was proud to be a Vampiric and nothing could take that away from him.

Savirion knew that Hawk would not stand for him to be happy. He also knew that he would have to destroy him, but if he did then he would only have regret to face. Hawk knew that Savirion was destined to fight for what he thought was right and he didn’t want to stand in his way. He knew as well the next best thing to do was to surrender and let Savirion have this day, to give him pride and to bring him joy. Neither was really willing to do what they knew was proper, rather they preferred death over surrender or defeat. It went on for many more minutes when it finally became clear to Hawk that Savirion would rather die than suffer the price of defeat. He decided that surrendering himself to the mercy of Savirions judgment.

Hawk leaped back and cried out “STOP, I surrender myself to the mercy of your soul, do what you feel you must do.”

“You have quite possibly taken the one thing from me that I cherished most, the chance to be human again. For that, I should rip you apart and spread your tattered carca.s.s out in the sun for all to see. You have also made me realize that being a Vampiric is not a curse but a gift from the one true G.o.d. He has seen it in his infinite wisdom to grant me this most wonderful gift and I took it upon myself to destroy all that I hated.

It never really occurred to me that I was what I hated most and all I wanted was to be human. Feeling that I had been robbed of my humanity, when in fact I had been given a gift of the greatest form of humanity and the ability to help those around me who could not help themselves. You have helped me to realize this Hawk, and for that I thank you. I give unto you my deepest of grat.i.tude’s. Now be on you way or help those that need you.” Savirion replied to Hawk.

Hawk and Savirion left the people to contemplate what had happened this day. They headed off into the woods to discuss what must be done. They flew about three hundred yards into the woods to a small clearing where they would hopefully not be disturbed by any hunters or disturb any of the natural wildlife that lived in the great wooded plains of the PaG.o.da Mountains. They talked for hours about what had happened back in the township. Neither of them could shake the feeling that what they had done may not have been for the greater good of mankind but it was done and nothing could change the fact.

Unbeknownst to the pair, they were being watched from a distance by the one they sought so hard to find. Nightwing was careful to stay out of range of their sight and hearing. He would have normally done the same but not on this day. Nightwing had managed to learn a few spells from a powerful wizard before he ripped his throat out and devoured his life’s blood for his dinner.

They were only simple spells and not very powerful. It was just luck for him that the wizard was also a spy for the local magistrate. He had many spells that would increase one’s sight and hearing to phenomenal proportions, allowing them to see and hear conversations over a mile away. It could only be used for a short time at best for the spell drained the energy of the caster and often left them weak for many hours. Unfortunately for Nightwing, that also meant he was vulnerable to attack while he was resting from his spell casting.

The thought of having to rest after casting such medial spells was appalling to Nightwing but even so, he knew that to try to fight in his weakened condition would surly get him killed. Then his plans for his dear sweet mother would have all been a waste of time and he was not about to let his weakling brother get the upper hand on him, even if it meant being taxed greatly by the use of a few spells.

Unfortunately for Nightwing, Hawk had learned about the wizard just days before his brother had arrived. He had convinced the poor fool that to teach his spells to anyone like him would be a grave mistake. There was only one of a kind that would seek out such powers and he surely would not let this poor fool live long enough to tell his tale to anyone. The old wizard would not listen and vowed to tell his secrets to anyone who would seek him out. So it came to pa.s.s that Nightwing did seek him out and sought his power. When Nightwing had learned all he could learn, he ripped out the poor fools’ throat. After all, he couldn’t let it get around that he had been practicing magic, for fear that it might bring his death upon him.

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