But Sir Galin of Eldridge, upon ascending to the summit of the tower, did perspire to such an extent that all the Lakes of Perilly would not have quenched the weary knight’s thirst. Though he had ventured to the top of near a dozen of these infernal spires, he still could not fathom their dark power. Such evil had not dispirited Sir Galin, whose valour had shone in the face of those waking dead who infested the tower’s base. So too did his strength endure the interminable climb up the structure’s spine. But it was Galin’s unwavering faith that permitted his crossing of the perilous bridges and crumbling pathways that plagued his journey. Now, he stood under the latticed sky, within a great garden such as those that adorned the top of all the lofty turrets. The cool night air refreshed Sir Galin, which was fortunate indeed because the final test of his might loomed ahead.

This citadel of soaring black stone was the bastion which confined the fair Princess Auralis and, upon entering that demonic stronghold, Galin was met with labyrinthine passages as dark as the moonless night. He trod with care so as not to disturb the foul creature that was sure to be creeping about these halls. Of that secret enemy, the intrepid knight knew little. Each tale of its nature was so wild that, in truth, the knight could not be certain of its existence. Legends abounded that the beast moved like a shadow, drank of flame for sustenance, stared into souls with its great ominous eye and bore limbed teeth. The knight had neither seen the beast, nor the princess, but although Sir Galin knew not the monster’s true form, he believed that it did inhabit each tower’s pinnacle, for when he had come within a hair’s breadth of liberating She-of-Noble-Blood, that invisible form did snatch her away once more to another realm.

“Should my sword stay true, I will not have it take her again,” Galin thought and he gripped the hilt of his heavy blade more tightly.

Sir Galin, being thus poised to strike, did advance down the winding galleries, charting every chamber should She-of-Royal-Birth lie within until he had ventured deep into the heart of that damnable abode. Presently, a faint echo travelled along those long, dank walls and found its way to Galin’s ear. And presently he did pause to consider the origin of such a strange noise. Such a smooth shuffle could only be the treacherous whisper of Galin’s unseen foe. The knight withdrew behind the pillar of an archway, slowed his breath and prepared for battle.

“Silently, now,” Galin murmured to himself as the fiendish creature drew closer.

Sir Galin’s eyes widened, his breath held in his throat and his heartbeat pounded as if it were a drum of war. The footsteps were closer now. Just a few moments more and… Now! Galin tensed his muscles and sprang from his place of concealment, weapon in hand. As the knight had prayed, his sword was true and through a whirl of linen, he pierced the white flesh of his nemesis. Blood pooled from the wound as Galin gripped the hilt of his sword, pressing its point deeper into the heart of that which he had long sought to destroy.

Then did Sir Galin, Knight of Eldridge, lay eyes upon the fiend he had slain. He gazed in awe upon its gilded locks, he looked with melancholy at the demon’s ruby lips, frozen in a silent cry of astonishment and he wept at the sight of the monster’s pale grey eyes, wide open with all hope of rescue now vanished.

ANAX.