@#@#Bunker@#@#

“That's Hircine?” Dash's voice wasn't one of awe or fear, it held an odd hint of disappointment. The Element of Loyalty had been expecting something... taller. “He looks kinda scrawny.” Actually, the Aspect of Guile was built almost identically to Reman, muscle compacted for speed that didn't sacrifice strength. In fact, both warriors were nearly even in height, but every observer knew that this battle would involve more than brute force.

“Never underestimate somepony in combat.” Princess Celestia's words were a surprise to all who heard them. Something about the Aspect had her on edge, she'd kept an eye on it. “I'm sure that Hircine uses this form for a good reason.”

@#@#Battle@#@#

Few things in any world are as imposing as a manifested Prince, even if the chosen Daedric Aspect represented less than a thousandth of its power. The Imperial unconsciously stepped back, every instinct in his body screaming at him to run! But retreat was not an option here, not if Reman wished to fulfill his promise to Glade, to himself, to Gaston. The lycan tensed, readying himself for conflict.

Either he or Hircine would be dead before it was over and done with.

There were no words spoken between the two, none were needed. Leaving Glade at the edge, Reman charged towards the Daedra, forgetting about his own safety. With silent, instant magic, the Imperial summoned a bound sword, knowing the ephemeral blade would serve him well. Time seemed to slow as Hircine mirrored his hound's assault, and ran as he readied his spear.

He who makes the first move loses.

But he who dares, wins.

The two moved at the same time, the Daedra thrust its spear towards its prey's midsection, and the Imperial slashed at his target's throat. Both dodged the respective attacks, each moving away from the bladed weapons with almost supernatural speed. The engagement was more to gauge each other than to cause injury, and Reman found the Aspect to be a wonderful opponent. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Hircine made the next move, swiping the spear's head at the Imperial's neck, who parried the blow from the vulnerable area. The lycan returned his target's attack tit for tat, taking an opening between the Huntsman's arm and ribs. The midnight halberd blocked the blow with ease, providing evidence of the chasm between the two, Hircine was much faster than Reman, and it was obvious to all who observed. Using that blind speed, the Daedra cracked the spear's pommel against his prey's jaw, resulting in a satisfying impact.

The force sent Reman sprawling on the ground. The Aspect of Guile was faster and stronger than him, this battle just became much more interesting. The lycan righted himself in record time, avoiding a stabbing thrust from the Huntsman's vile weapon, a split-second later and he would have been pinned into the ground beneath him. This would be difficult, Reman had never fought someone who was using a spear or poleaxe, the archaic weapons had been phased out of use shortly after the Nerevarine had stripped the Tribunal of their godhood.

Fighting from a defensive standing wasn't a situation the Imperial was comfortable with, it never had been, and Hircine's incredible speed did nothing to ease his worry. At best, Reman parried the blows and thrusts with his bound sword, at worst, he had to block using the blade's face. After a particularly nasty hit, a crack formed in the ephemeral weapon, the binding magic wouldn't last much longer. The Imperial blinked twice, hoping his meaning would be understood.

Summer Glade launched herself at breakneck speeds, she was only a blur as she slammed her hooves into the Huntsman's spine. The god stumbled long enough for Reman to get a decent shot, jabbing his cracked weapon into its abdomen. With a sound like breaking glass, the bound sword shattered, leaving a pinprick in the Daedra's tough hide. Perhaps the Aspect was highly armored, perhaps the blade was too far gone to cause any serious damage, the Imperial didn't really know. What he did know, however odd it seemed, was that Hircine didn't attack Glade, even after she slammed into him.

Reman's musings were cut short by the Daedra's next attack, a sign that the Imperial should stop thinking about things like that during battle. The Aspect used an uppercut, understanding that there wasn't enough space between the two combatants to properly utilize its spear. Even without the weapon, it hit with enough force to pause Reman's sense of sight for a few seconds. A boot to the ribs followed, then another pommel strike. Why hadn't Hircine moved this quickly earlier? A hand gripping the lycan's head and slamming it into the Daedra's knee gave him the answer.

Hircine had been toying with him.

This was a game to the Huntsman, a sport much like the Arena, but infinitely crueler. The silent Aspect threw the injured man to the ground, maybe this was it, maybe Reman would truly die this time. But the spear didn't meet his flesh, though there was no comfort to be found. A booted foot crashed onto the Imperial's arm, powerful enough to finely crush the durable bones. The pain was too much, too intense to even scream. Instinct told Reman to run, and he trusted the gut feeling, taking off into the maze of boulders scattered across the plain.

The quick Daedra followed him step for step, its form tireless, its mission certain, its resolve absolute. Guile is another word for cleverness, cunning, and this Aspect represented it when it merely injured Reman rather than kill him, despite having ample opportunity. It was clever, but the Imperial was smart, he had a plan, and a useless arm wasn't even a setback. He only had to find a magicka store that hadn't opened during the ritual. A kick from his hunter sent him flying into one such boulder, it was time for the tables to turn,

Reman fought like a wounded animal, cornered by a hunter, sending kicks and punches with wild neglect. The Imperial looked frightened beyond all belief, back against stone with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. None of his blows landed with enough force to even give Hircine pause, a fact that seemed to cause more fear than anything else.

If the masked Aspect could smile, it would be grinning ear to ear right now.

The Daedra launched a knee into Reman's gut, and followed it stomp on his foot. A flurry of attacks slammed into the Imperial's torso, cracking bones and bruising organs. Just as the lycan coughed, a bit of blood coloring the spittle, the Aspect readied its spear for a final strike. Faster than the eye could follow, the bladed weapon stabbed into... stone?

Reman had anticipated the attack, and began moving away even before the spear came down. Now it was his turn to smile, because he had Hircine right he needed. An electrified punch directly to the heart, the chain attack started to work its magic. The Imperial gabbed the Daedra's head and slammed it into the stone magicka store, further stunning the powerful being. Reman bit the Aspect's shoulder, his sharp teeth effortlessly slipping through the tough hide, and answering the earlier question about Hircine's armor. Using powerful suction, the lycan filled his mouth with Daedric blood, he unlatched from the joint and spit the foul-tasting liquid into the Aspect's face.

He slipped around the Daedra, kicking it against the runed boulder. With a final lightning bolt against the stone surface, the chain reaction was initiated. Reman ran like a bat out of hell, eager to escape what he knew was coming.

@#@#Bunker@#@#

“I can't watch!” Fluttershy was huddled in a corner, her eyes closed, her ears covered. She couldn't stomach the violence, not on this scale, and not against somepony she knew.

“Darling, you don't have to see if you don't want to.” Rarity was having difficulties as well. The fashionable Unicorn wash deeply worried for the two lycans, and for reasons beyond what most would have noticed. Years of paying attention to tiny details had given the Element of Generosity a keen eye, and she saw something very unusual. It may have been because it had bigger things to worry about, but the Aspect of Guile hadn't payed any attention to Glade, despite the lycan Pegasus being the bigger threat at the time. Something was going on, and Rarity wanted to find out what it was.

“Perhaps we should move back so-” Celestia was cut off by a massive vibration running beneath her hooves. On reflex, the Princess turned her head to the battlefield, and was awestruck by what she beheld. A massive sphere of blue energy bloomed from near the edge of the forest, a silent explosion caused by a rupturing magicka store. That was why Reman had created so many redundant reservoirs before the ritual. But the blast isn't what caught her eye, it was the black speck that was quickly growing in size.

@#@#Battle@#@#

A bipedal creature whipped through the air, turning end over end as it approached. It seemed that the Imperial had underestimated the power he'd locked in the runed boulders before. Reman skidded to a halt just in front of the bunker, injuries of all sorts scattered across his battered body. He was taking shallow, ragged breaths, but at least he was alive.

Slow, steady footsteps echoed from beyond the explosion's dust cloud, booted feet crunching gravel underfoot. Hircine's Aspect of Guile limped from the obscuring haze, spear clutched in a bleeding hand, one of its legs seemed to have been badly burned.

“You've done well, little mortal.” The formerly stoic Aspect spoke in a chilling voice, both mocking and sincere. It took a few more slow, limping steps towards the downed man. “I think a reward is in order.” The Daedra craned the spear around, ready for a slicing motion.

“Like hell you are!” Glade launched herself from behind a boulder, eager to protect her alpha. She passed through the Aspect like a rock through fog.

“Relax, I'm only giving him what he has searched for.” The Huntsman laughed, a cruel joke only he understood. Reman had searched for a cure ever since he had been infected. But why would Hircine cure him now, when he was so close to death? Would it not be easier to just kill him and collect his soul? The Aspect brought a spear down, slicing through the Imperial like a sword through still water.

Pain beyond anything Reman had ever felt lanced through his body. There was no cut, no scrape, no physical injury of any kind present on his body, no, the spear had cut deeper than his mortal shell. Red, wavering mist billowed from his mouth, before it began to take shape at the Aspect's side. A spectral wolf sat next to its creator, Reman's beast blood given form, its tongue lolled from its mouth, panting as though it was tired.

“If you'll excuse me, I have a Pegasus to kill.” The Daedra laughed and began walking away, leaving Reman's weakening body to bleed out. The Imperial's eyes caught his pack-mate's, a silent message was conveyed between them.

Summer Glade obeyed the order, and fled into the forest.

Hircine gave chase.

@#@# @#@#

It didn't know what it was, simply that it was. It knew that it had a purpose, but had no knowledge of what that purpose was. It knew that it couldn't truly die, it did not fear death. It understood pain, and feared it. It loved Creator, and feared him. It loved Master, and feared for him.

Creator had given it to Master, told it to stay with Master, to protect Master. It fulfilled its given duty with righteous dedication, healing Master from any injury he ever received.

But now Master and Creator were fighting, hurting, each other, and it had to choose between the two. It did not like making choices, its mind was not meant for it. The Gilded One gave it thought, gave it reason beyond what it knew. With reason, came devotion to Master, but also a deeper fear.

A fear of the Dark Waters.

It could not die, but the Dark Waters awaited it if Master died. It did not like the Dark Waters, it did not want to go back. Creator would send it back, it did not like Creator, which was bad, because it was like Creator, before the Gilded One made it different. It liked the Gilded One, Master liked the Gilded One, so the Gilded One must have been good.

The Gilded One gave freedom from Creator, freedom for it and Master. If Creator freed Master, he would take it from Master, but the Gilded One gave a solution. He changed it, like rearranging blocks into a different shape, and removed Creator's control. It liked freedom, it knew Master would like freedom, so the choice was clear.

If Master died, Creator would sent it back to the Dark Waters, but it knew choice now, it would decide for itself. The Dark Waters were wrong, they hurt, it didn't like the pain, it didn't want Creator to send it back. It decided that it would not be sent by Creator, it would not be forced into the Dark Waters. But for Master's life, it would gladly return, because it knew Master would understand. Master would be saddened by its death, but Master had much to live for on Nirn, he would forget about it soon enough. Master would be happier without it, and that was good enough for it.

With a smile gracing its features, it did what it had to in order to save Master's life.

@#@#Battle@#@#

Glade's lungs burned, a primal fear forming in her mind as she flew from the hunter. She had broken Reman's rule about transforming, and could feel the bloodlust rising in her very soul as she fled. Her powerful wings carried her faster than the Aspect could follow, but it didn't need to see her to find her.

A black spear appeared from the treetops above her, slicing through powerful flight muscles, and sending the transformed mare crashing to the ground. Glade trued to right herself, but a hand on her face stopped her.

“I never intended for a native to be infected, but Sanguine must have thought it would be fun to drop Reman at a social gathering.” The Aspect's thumb stroked her cheek, a gesture meant to alleviate her fears. “I regret that you had to get involved in this, I truly do.”

“Then why do any of this?” Glade's large eyes gazed into the holes of Hircine's mask, trying to find some semblance of a face or compassion in the hollow visage. There was none to be found.

“Because it is my joy to hunt.” The answer was simple, short, and given as absolute truth. Glade had never been so terrified in her life, even when she had attacked Reman at the Festival. The lycan mare felt something cold pressed against her neck, a knife meant to end her life and begin her service to the Huntsman. “I'm sorry, but it has to be done.”

Glade waited for the blade to slice her throat, but was pleasantly surprised that it didn't. Something stayed the Huntsman's hand, something that chilled all who heard it to their very core. A bellowing, booming voice from the plains.

“Hircine!”