I imagine Astor stood there, tuning out all of the raucous noise around us, and only heard the voices of his ancestors. They were probably telling him they were proud, and that regardless of what he had faced all these years, he was making them filled with pride to call him a Rathegalia. He did not succumb to death even in his darkest hour, and when he was faced with the most brutal of ways to go, Astor stood tall, and would fight to his last breath. Yes, I think his ancestors spoke to him in that moment, and all was well within my vampire friend.

Eventually, Max sent a werewolf companion into the arena. He looked older, having many battle scars on his face and body. It was obvious the werewolf was a veteran warrior. It also seemed that he knew Astor, for just as he was about to transform, he bowed to show the vampire respect. Max yelled at his Lusonian in their ancient tongue, and that was when I discovered his name was Talbot. He must have known Astor from the days of fighting with the Rathegalias and their army against the evil warlord. At least he showed Astor the proper respect he was due, even if he was going to try and slaughter him. Then, Astor bowed in return, repaying the respect. It was a scene that harkened back to an age in Friki, where the two species lived peacefully side by side, despite their differences. I think it made everyone present remember this as well, which led to them not viewing Astor as a murderer or traitor, but as a noble warrior, fighting for his life. The jeering stopped for a moment, and a calm silence fell over the arena. This did not sit well with Max, as he screamed for the battle to begin immediately. And with that, the crowd roared once more, and the battle commenced!

Talbot shapeshifted into an all-white werewolf. He was as big as Chandler, and moved about with unrelenting vigor. For appearing much older, I was surprised at his mobility and rate of activity. He attacked non-stop, but not in a reckless way. Yes, he took chances and exposed himself at times, but he was crisp and precise in his advances. He kept a high rate of work, constantly swiping his claws, and leaping in to bite Astor. But he never fell out of position or lost himself. It was a fact that Astor, I’m sure, realized as well, for he tried none of the feigns or fakes as he did with Victor. He kept a close eye on Talbot as he blocked, dodged, and ducked every strike. The beginning of the match was too close to call.

Then, about ten minutes in, Astor began capitalizing on the small windows Talbot left him from his constant movement. The vampire used what was left of his enhanced abilities, and landed sharp punches and kicks inside the werewolf’s guard. Talbot was rocked a bit, but I could tell he was not hurt by any one strike. From the look of his collection of scars, he had felt much more powerful blows in his lifetime, and survived them. If Astor was to win, he was going to have to land a whole lot more hits, or get lucky with a kill shot. Unfortunately, with the way Astor was staggering between his quick bursts of movement, either was highly unlikely to happen.

A few more moments passed by, and Talbot began landing strikes of his own. Gashes were being opened up on my vampire friend, and he was not handling the damage well. It took him a long time to compose himself after escaping flurries, and he was not able to use the bursts of speed anymore. Talbot simply began walking through Astor’s punches, too, allowing him to absorb hits in order to land massive blows of his own. It was not long before my vampire friend was launched in my direction, and crashed into the wall near me. I jumped over to help him, but he extended his hand, pushing me back. This sight caused the cheering for Talbot to diminish, as all eyes were fixated on us. I remembered why he was refusing help at that moment, so I backed off, and allowed Astor to struggle to his feet on his own. His body was leaking from numerous wounds, and the dirt was sticking to his clothes from them being soaked red. His hair was all over, and as he removed it from his face, the contusions and cuts were painting his eyes and cheeks colors as well. Yet, the look on his face was not defeated. Though he embraced his death, he was going to go out fighting until the very end. I saw this in his eyes, and as we looked at each other, he nodded and began staggering back towards Talbot. That was his way of saying goodbye.

The werewolf did not take it easy on him. Talbot rushed in and tackled Astor, biting him multiple times on the chest and arms, before launching him back towards Max. When Astor landed, his body was motionless. Only a few more breaths of life remained in him. Max stood and cheered feverishly. His enemy’s demise was at hand, and as he reveled in seeing Astor only seconds from death, he pointed to me, signaling I was next. I glared back momentarily, but I fixated my sight on my friend. I wanted to see the moment he died, for I planned on grabbing his sword, and launching it at the werewolf leader, before flying away towards Castle Rathegalia. Out of respect for Astor, I waited until his fight, his life, was over.

Max shouted to Talbot in their ancient language, and I could tell he was urging the werewolf to end it. However, the crowd was no longer cheering. Max was the only one celebrating. This took him by surprise, and as he looked around to see what was going on, he noticed the faces of the Lusonians. They were gazing upon a fallen Astor with reverence. The vampire had won them over with his endless courage, and willingness to fight to the death with honor. He gained their admiration and respect by never retaliating or cursing them back, regardless of how horrible the Lusonians treated him. They did not want to cheer the fall of such a noble warrior, and this infuriated Max.

He yelled with all his might at Talbot for him to finish Astor. The werewolf paused for a second, but he knew he had to obey his pack leader’s command. So, he launched himself in the air, and descended upon my vampire friend to strike the killing blow. Then, a few seconds later, Talbot landed over Astor. Just like that, in a flash the fight was over.

I could not register the fact that Astor was dead, and standing there amidst the silence, while looking at the huge white werewolf crouched over my vampire friend’s motionless body, made it even harder. Though we had only known one another forabout ten days, I felt like I knew him for ten years. We were alike on so many levels, and continued to strengthen our bond during our travels. I like to think that everything happens for a reason, but in that moment I could not fathom why my friend had to die. A part of me believes the Lusonians thought the same thing as well, for when it was all over, nobody made a sound. Not even Max. He was extremely relieved his vampire enemy was dead, but he did not cheer. Instead, he looked at me, and told Talbot to finish me next.

I prepared to grab Astor’s sword to take my shot at killing Max with one throw, but my concentration was broken. Max started speaking again, louder. He repeated his command to Talbot, but Talbot did not move. A stillness overcame everyone present. Max yelled this time, shouting for Talbot to get up and kill me. However, Talbot did not get up. Instead, he keeled over onto the dirt, and when he did, we all saw a wooden chair leg impaled into his chest. Astor had killed Talbot!

When the white werewolf threw him back towards Max before leaping to end things, Astor landed right where Max had thrown his wooden throne in anger after the previous fight. Without anyone seeing, he tucked a chair leg under his arm, and with its jagged edge from being snapped in two, he raised it up at the last second, and allowed Talbot’s force coming down upon him to drive it through his heart. The werewolf’s blood was all over Astor, and after he painstakingly rose to his feet, he wobbled around, trying to gather his bearings. My vampire friend had an ounce of life left in him, but that did not stop me from yelling his name triumphantly. The crowd was in a state of shock, as they murmured to one another their disbelief. Meanwhile, Max began boiling over with rage, and as he did, Astor turned to begin stumbling back towards me. He was dripping blood, both his own and Talbot’s, and he could barely stand. However, when we made eye contact, I could see his resolve was still as strong as ever. Unfortunately, this fact made Max livid beyond control, and he refused to stand by and merely watch anymore.

Astor hobbled slowly, so I began running out to help him. I knew he would probably push me away, but I was going to try and aid him anyway. Before I could reach him, though, the loudest roar I had ever heard filled the air. The howl of this werewolf was blood-curdling, and when my eyes traced the origin of the sound, I saw it came from Max! He shoved everyone near him out of the way, and instantly transformed into a gigantic werewolf unlike anything I had seen before. Then, with a single leap, he was upon Astor in the blink of an eye. I yelled to my vampire friend to watch out, but it was too late. Max clawed Astor across the back, and the force of the strike made Astor fly all the way across the arena near my feet. I looked down upon my friend and saw long, deep, wide gashes in his body. Max growled intensely and howled incessantly, and all I could do was stare at the mangled body of Astor at my feet.

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