Reyland grimaced in pain as he ran, dodging to the side of a soldier’s wild axe swing as he wove his way through the battle. Behind him he could hear the direwolf gaining, paws thundering against the stone walkway of the wall. Soldiers screamed as they were trampled, their cries of pain ending in muffled silence as they were crushed underfoot and subsequently ripped apart by the beasts around them.

The direwolf barked in rage, just behind his head, and Reyland knew he’d run out of time. He threw himself to the side, diving off the edge of the wall itself as the wolf’s jaws closed on the end of his cape.

He fell through the air gracelessly, tumbling end over end before crashing into the thatch roof of a stable below. The roof caught him and sent him spiralling down towards the ground where he landed in a heap, the air forcefully leaving his lungs.

Knowing what was coming, he rolled abruptly to the side. The front paws of the direwolf landed in the mud right where he had been, claws digging deep into the earth as it snarled at him. Reyland was on his feet in a flash, barely dodging a bite that would have swallowed him whole.

A spear appeared in the direwolf’s fur, and the beast slowly turned to look for the source. Maeve stood on the ramparts, having thrown her last spear and now drawing a mere knife as she recoiled under the direwolf’s glare.

Reyland used the brief opening to run. He thrust himself through the melee in the courtyard between the countless soldiers and blighted that battled in the blood-stained earth. He could hear it behind him, closing the gap in a single massive bound. He dodged blindly, and heard the screams of a soldier being crushed underfoot in his stead. A pang of guilt went through him, but he kept running.

In front of him was another outbuilding, built into the inside of the wall. It had no door, just an open doorway, but stone walls and a wooden roof. If he could just make it there, maybe he could escape.

He heard a colossal, pained roar coming from the gate where Griff and the bear were, followed by the snarling of the direwolf just behind him. The rain pelted at his chest and face, soaking him to the bone as he sprinted through the mud, but with a dive he slid through the doorway just as the direwolf crashed into the stone wall behind him.

The entire outbuilding shook, the mortar between the cobblestone cracking and buckling under the weight of the beast. It howled in frustration, and Reyland pulled himself to his feet in time to see a single, massive orange eye appear in the doorway. The pupil dilated as it found him, and the direwolf’s low growl rattled in Reyland’s chest.

The eye disappeared, replaced by a black blur as its clawed paw came through the doorway. Its claws gouged scars into the earth just at his feet, as the beast’s leg was just barely too short to reach him. He pressed his back to the wall, kicking his feet into the dirt in a vain attempt to push himself further away, unable to tear his eyes away from the black claws that strained for him.

When the direwolf had strained all it could, it finally pulled its foreleg from the building, howling in rage at its escaped prey. Reyland collected himself, looking around the near pitch black interior of the outbuilding for the first time.

It seemed to be an arms shed, packed to the brim with crossbows, bolts, bows and arrows, and ballista ammunition. It was clear much of it had been taken already, yet there were still countless more piled high in every direction.

The heavy, spear-like tip of a ballista bolt poked out from a box next to him, and an idea came to his mind. He grabbed the bolt, which must have weighed fifty pounds in itself, hefting it like a spear as his mind raced.

There, in the back of the room, was a dark doorway that led to the interior of the wall. He ran towards it, only to be knocked off his feet as the earth under him shook violently. The wall beside him had begun to crack, as the direwolf threw its weight against it on the outside. Reyland clambered to his feet, looking around desperately for the other thing he needed for his plan. He found it a moment later, a long spool of thick, hempen rope. Grabbing it and throwing it over his shoulder, he ran towards the doorway.

It was nearly impossible to see inside the wall, but he could see a stairway in front of him, the rain pouring down through the opening in the ceiling. He burst forth into the rain once again atop the wall, looking around in a panic.

A group of soldiers had started to attack the direwolf, encircling it with spears levelled. The direwolf already had what looked like two people in its mouth, crushing them down without much care for the tiny wounds the spears could inflict.

The top of the wall was empty now, but for the corpses Reyland had to step over. The soldiers had been overwhelmed, pushed back into the courtyard or killed. The final remnants of both beast and human now battled down in the mud, a tangled mass of bodies both living and dead.

Reyland spotted the final part of his plan. Halfway down the wall was a single functional ballista, the crew manning it laying dead around it. Reyland sprinted to it, checking it for signs of damage and doing his best to ignore the bodies at his feet and the blood that stained his boots.

Behind him, the direwolf claimed another victim, and he grimaced. He had to work quickly.

He grabbed the crank of the ballista and began to turn, his ribs aching with every movement. It was meant to be cranked by two people, but by using all of his weight, he could just barely manage. When it was done, he loaded his bolt, then tied one end of his rope to the back of it. Then he tied the other end to a piece of the wall itself, and hoped against all hope that the rope was long enough.

When he turned back to see the courtyard, half the soldiers fighting the direwolf had disappeared. The few that remained looked ready to run for their lives, as the great wolf crushed another soldier underfoot like an insect.

“Oi!” Reyland screamed at the top of his lungs. “Ya great, stinking dog! Lookin’ for me?”

The ears of the direwolf twitched and it turned around to face him, lips pulling back into a bloody snarl.

Then, Reyland pulled the lever. The ballista bucked, metal limbs snapping forwards as the great bolt was sent hurtling through the air.

Maybe it was Reyland’s experience with crossbows, or maybe it was sheer luck, but the bolt struck the direwolf in its already wounded eye, the rope dangling from its end.

“Aaaarrrroooooo!”

The direwolf tried to step away, pulling the rope taught. It howled in pain again as the bolt’s hooked end caught the inside of its eye like a fish hook, refusing to release. The direwolf thrashed about in pain, yet it could not pull in any direction except towards Reyland without pulling against the hook embedded inside its eye.

Reyland let out a shuddering breath of relief, collapsing against the side of the ballista in pain. The soldiers below reorganised, circling the wolf again and beginning to stack up wounds against it. The wolf tried to retaliate, but every time it tried to bring its head about on them, it would shriek in pain instead as the rope went taught.

“Please let this damn rope hold,” Reyland mumbled to no one. He slumped lower against the ballista, eventually collapsing to the ground and leaning against it as he clutched his chest in pain.

In the courtyard below, the tides were finally turning in their favour. Griff held the bear at bay just beyond the inner gate, and the thunderous roars and crashing of its paws against the ground were all Reyland needed to know Griff was still alive. The remaining soldiers had grouped into circles, fending off the blighted beasts with spears and shield walls, holding their own against the dwindling numbers in the horde. The direwolf was circled, unable to flee or properly fight back thanks to the rope that tethered its vulnerable eye to the wall.

If this kept up, they just might make it out alive.

“Reyland!”

He winced as he sat up a bit straighter, Maeve dropping to her knees next to him. She looked over his wounds with worry, her own cuts still not properly bandaged.

“Good to see you still breathing,” Reyland replied.

“Could say the same to you. Ya look in worse shape than I, at least.”

They both turned to the courtyard as the direwolf shrieked in pain again, trying to paw at the hook through its eye. A soldier got too close behind it, and with a single backwards kick, the direwolf sent the man flying through the air. He landed headfirst against the wall of the tower, sliding to the ground with his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

“We… we should help,” Reyland said with a cough, trying to rise to his feet weakly. “Them soldiers don’t know what they’re doing ‘gainst a beast like that.”

“None of us do, and you’re injured. Sit your ass back down.”

He relented as her hand on his shoulder pushed him back to the ground, a grunt of pain escaping his lips.

“At least grab me a crossbow,” he complained. “I’m not ready to be feeling this useless.”

“Aarrrrrghhhhaaaa!”

The ferocious scream of the direwolf drew their attention, and a look of horror and disbelief came over both of them. The direwolf had braced itself into the ground, and in a single, jerking motion, ripped the bolt from its eye.

Along with half of its eyeball.

The bloody, goring end of the bolt dropped to the ground as the beast’s howl of pain shook the keep, drawing the attention of nearly every man and beast in sight. Ignoring the wounds growing on its body from the dozens of spears around it, the direwolf bound towards the wall in two great leaps, landing on top of it only a few dozen feet away from Reyland and Maeve.

Its one remaining eye turned on Reyland, the bloody hole on the other side of its face a dark and grotesque pit. It snarled, never breaking eye contact with him, as Reyland lost focus of the rest of the world. Everything except the monster in front of him.

A volley of crossbow bolts and thrown spears peppered its flank, but the great beast did not so much as flinch. Maeve drew her knife and stood slowly to her feet, standing between him and the direwolf.

Then, with one last snarl that vibrated straight to Reyland’s chest, the direwolf left. It flew from the top of the wall, bounding across the fields towards the woods, disappearing as its black fur faded into the darkness of night.

And just like that, as quickly as it had appeared, it left.

A sinking feeling grew in Reyland’s chest, as he realised with certainty that this would not be the last time he saw it.

In the courtyard, something began to shift in the air. As the direwolf fled, the beasts below seemed to grow more weary. They hounded after the soldiers less and less, their vicious cries turning more hesitant. Some of the beasts even began to back away, but not enough. One of the circles of soldiers was overwhelmed, a single breach in their shield wall allowing a flood of black fur and teeth to pour through, and the entire group disappeared under a sea of bodies in an instant.

Maeve collapsed to the ground next to him, a shuddering breath escaping her lips, and Reyland noticed for the first time how her whole body was shaking. The cold of wind and rain had sunk into the bone now, and he shivered along with her as every ache and pain in his body began to flare up at once.

“Grrooah!” The distant roar of the bear cried out.

“Sounds like your master is still keeping it busy,” Maeve said.

“Least that means he’s probably still alive.”

“Probably?”

“Aye. Ya know, I used to think nothing could kill that man. After Arcaster? I aint so sure anymore.”

Maeve groaned as she pushed herself backwards to lean against the ballista next to Reyland. They were shoulder to shoulder, and Reyland took solace in the faint warmth of another still-breathing body next to his.

The moment was short lived, as without warning, the screeching cry of the wyvern came from the top of the tower. Reyland jolted upright with a start, scanning the skies in panic, only to freeze as he found the beast.

It was latched onto the side of the main tower, tail towards the sky and head down below, sticking through an open hole in the tower where a window had once been. With another shriek it pulled its head out, slithering along the outside wall, before smashing straight through the stone again as if it weren’t even there. Reyland recoiled in terror as he realised that, bit by bit, the wyvern was tearing the tower to pieces. At this rate, the whole thing could come down in just minutes.

“Maeve, can you move?”

“Aye,” she whispered, eyes glued to the tower.

“Get more ballista bolts. Quickly.”

She got to her feet without a word, and ran down the stairs to gather the bolts. Reyland forced himself to his feet after, wincing at the sharp pains all through his ribs and the countless other scrapes and bruises and cuts covering his body, not to mention the burns across his arm and shoulder. Still, he grit his teeth and rose, beginning to crank back the wheel to draw the ballista.

That is, until something caught his eye.

As an entire, two story section of the tower’s wall collapsed, a single, dark figure caught his attention. There, dangling from a ruined and crumbling section of one of the tower’s floors, was a young boy. Long dark hair matted down from the rain, pale arms holding onto the edge for dear life, struggling to pull himself up again.

“Matthaeus,” Reyland whispered.

Then the head of the wyvern appeared above the boy, its maw opening to reveal long, needle-like fangs, and Reyland dropped the crank. He started limping towards the tower, a sickening feeling building in his gut.

The wyvern lunged, and Matthaeus let go of the edge, dropping down and out of sight as he fell into a lower floor of the tower.

“Krruuooa!” The wyvern shrieked in frustration, its spiked tail thrashing wildly behind it.

Reyland broke into a run, all of his wounds and the ballista behind him forgotten. He grabbed a discarded spear from the ground, running faster and faster as the wyvern destroyed another section of the tower, digging deeper after the young boy inside.

Reyland grit his teeth, fighting back the stomach churning worry in his gut.

It seemed the night was not over yet.