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Alrighty, part two. Again I hope you enjoy it.

As always, comments are appreciated and requested.

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Continued from 'A Walk With the Chosen...'

Julianna hiked down the slope of the tree clad hill, arm in arm with her mate, who was clad once more in his white Slayer uniform, the rune cloth taking to his altered shape with the same ease as his human form, the pair leading the way through the final stretch of land before the Slayerhold. Ducking a hanging branch of a blue spruce tree in unison with the grey werewolf that walked beside her, she caught his deep brown eyes, flashing him an easy grin that he returned, giving her hand a squeeze. And yet, even as they returned their gaze to the thinning trees ahead, she couldn't help but feel a little worried for her mate. Though he hid it well, she could tell that there was something bothering him. As far as she knew, he hadn't slept at all in the last few weeks. Not that it would really affect either of them. But still...

And yet, though she too felt a faint foreboding, like a cloud on the far horizon, she didn't dwell on it, thinking instead, as she often had in the past few days, about just before they had gotten to the Aspenhald, when she had started to feel so strange. It had been like her body had been warming up, gradually it was true, but undeniably. And more, she had found the warmth making it very difficult to keep an even mood going. She had found her moods swinging from depression to ecstatic joy and back again and each time the shift became more and more severe. And then, finally, on the first night in the Aspenhald, everything had changed and she had woken in Galen's arms, feeling more aroused than she had ever been before; it had been a need so intense that it had filled every corner of her mind, drowned out everything but thoughts of her lover. She hadn't been able to resist it in even the slightest way, giving in without thought, not that she had tried of course.

The memory of what they had done that night still made her feel warm and tingly all over every time she thought about it, and her wolf spirit, ever mysterious, seemed delighted with it as well, though she got the distinct impression that it was hiding something from her, something very important. And ever since, she had found herself being more and more attracted to Galen as time had gone on; well, attracted wasn't quite the right word. It was actually very hard to tell what she felt. It wasn't that she wanted to mate with him exactly, but more that she just wanted to be close to him, to be held by him every moment she could. Whatever it was had caused her to be more affectionate to her mate, and he had reciprocated, despite the troubles that seemed to assail him. And, though she always intended to stay awake with her mate, she had found herself nodding off as they settled down in their camp every night, the warmth of her lover's embrace putting her out instantly. And every morning, she had woken up feeling so odd...she didn't know how she knew, but it seemed almost like her wolf half was storing the sleep, hoarding its energy for something to come. And then, with a suddenness that took her breath away, the trees parted before them and she gasped, all of her thoughts gone from her mind in an instant of wonder.

They stood now on the edge of a plain of grass, reaching out towards a high ridge in the distance that seemed almost to be shaped like a crescent moon. But spreading across the opening of the crescent, rising from the loam of the plain in pearlescent splendor, was a high and magnificent wall of white marble. Its top was crenellated like that of a castle, but it would not have looked out of place in any palace, so beautiful was its construction. Compared to the flat plain, it looked many stories high, imposing and powerful, and must have taken hundreds of years to craft, and yet it was only the first magnificent image, a taste of what was to come. Rising up from behind it were the roofs of many structures, peeking over the top of the stone wall, rank upon rank like the helms of so many soldiers, rising above a wall of shields.

But there were two buildings that towered above all, both equal in height, but rivaling one another in their beauty. One, more towards the western edge of the ridge, was a keep, rising higher even than the wall, and despite the distance that separated her from it, it was clear that it had been carved most beautifully, inlaid with intricate patterns of jade and gold that glinted and shimmered in the sunlight, and draped with long hanging banners of jade green, bearing the silver-trimmed, golden sunburst of Auré. The other, rising in the east so that it would catch the first rays of every sunrise, was the sloping roof of a temple dome, shining golden in the brilliant sunlight, glowing like a second dawn, the statues upon its corners that of the sun god himself, carved of un-weathered jade, inlaid with even more gold. Both structures, awe-inspiring in their size, seemed to broadcast the might and majesty of the holy Order that dwelled within its walls.

"Behold, the Slayerhold." Aldric said, coming up beside the two werewolves and looking on the walls with an obvious fondness and reverence. "Headquarters of the Slayers of Auré and home to the ruling council." As the rest of the party came out from the trees, they all stood for a moment, staring at the vista before them. And then, as Julianna recovered from the shock of seeing the Slayerhold for the first time, she noticed a road, paved with cobblestones, running eastward through the grass down from a broad stone gate in the high wall. And more, there was much movement upon it, wagons and carts going to and coming from the gates, horsemen riding up the borders of the road, some going at a great pace, kicking up thick clouds of dust as they rode, and many more people traveling on foot in both directions, forming a nearly endless procession of humanity. "Come on, we are expected."

As Aldric climbed into the saddle of his horse, Julianna felt a sudden shiver run through her mate's arm and she looked over to see him looking at the walls, not with reverence, but with apprehension, a shadow of painful memories on his face. Aldric's captain had originally suggested that the two of them return to their human forms before entering the city, but they had refused, knowing that to try and hide it would be worse, since the many priests that lived within the fortress city would be able to sense it upon them. Besides, this was what they had both chosen to be, and it didn't seem right to either of them to hide it. But all the same, she knew that that decision wouldn't make it any easier on her love to be there again.

"It has been decades since I last saw this sight." He finally said when she gently shook his shoulder, managing a tight lipped smile. "And I have always feared to see it again. Long ago, I failed in my duty, endangering the Order, getting myself cursed and my friends killed in the process. And I have always thought that to return here, as I am, would be to go to my death at the hands of my own brothers."

"Galen, my love," Julianna began, embracing him once more, "Whatever lies ahead, we will face it together. And I know that as long as I am with you, things will be alright." The grey werewolf smiled and hugged her tightly, his cloak swirling forward to engulf her.

"I love you Julianna." he whispered. "So much."

"As I love you." She replied and at last they parted, following the other Slayers out onto the plain, arm in arm...

***

Julianna blinked as she came out of the shadows of the inner gate and into the sunlit courtyard beyond it. The last hour had been interesting to say the least. They had walked down onto the road and everyone, from Slayers and priests, to merchants and common folk of all description had suddenly made space for them, looks of almost universal surprise and wonder on their faces, and not a little fear. No one had challenged them as they had approached the gate in the high white wall, but all the way across the plain, she had suddenly felt as if the eyes of the entire world were upon them. Though they had been nervous under such scrutiny, both she and her mate had walked with their heads held high, striding proudly amid the other Slayers as if totally unafraid. But, unseen between their swirling cloaks, their hands had been clasped tightly, lending each other support by their closeness. And though the feeling hadn't gotten any worse once they had passed through the gate, the mile long stretch before it had been more nerve wracking than facing down any challenge she had ever seen, including when she and her lover had faced down the demon lord Redamarc in his own sanctum.

Once through the gate, she had found that the high white wall enclosed a city, much like to the capitol of Gulnia, but a city more magnificent than any she had seen. Every building had been made of white marble bricks, filled in with snow white mortar, their roofs tiled with ceramic glazed in the color of jade. Every doorway, every window sill, and every sign marking a shop or inn had been inlaid with jade and gold, trimmed with silver, glittered with gems, an endless display of marvelous wealth. And more, the entire city was clean. No weeds sprang up between the cobbles, no rubbish decorated the alleys between buildings, and nothing in the well ordered gardens grew out of place.

There was everything that could be imagined within the confines of the white wall, smithies and ferriers, inns, eating houses, libraries, scribes and on and on and on and everywhere, striding along the streets, shopping in the stores, and even simply sitting and talking with one another, were Slayers. Hundreds of white and silver clad warriors walked the streets, outnumbering priests and commoners almost two to one. Many had fallen silent when they had seen the two werewolves, but the presence of Galen's uniform and the obvious familiarity with which their companions treated them had kept them from being challenged. But still, there had been a definite tension in the air from the moment they had passed into the city, as if even the breaths they breathed were waiting for the challenge to come.

And then, finally, when they had reached the inner wall, the wall that bordered the castle within a castle that surrounded the high towered keep, they had at last been challenged. Slayers clad in strange tabards, silver-grey, trimmed in white, bearing jade green sunbursts on their chests that were bordered with golden thread, had stood before the wall, blocking the gate with pikes of silver and jade, and a woman wearing the white cloak of a Master Hunter over the same uniform had come forward to confer with Aldric. And then, after a tense few moments when the guards had eyed them suspiciously, they had been allowed to pass, the female Master Hunter, who seemed to be a friend of Aldric's, accompanying them. And here, inside the castle where the Slayers were headquartered, the difference to the outer city was as extreme as noon and midnight. Here, though the walls were still white and everything was clean, there was not so much as a scrap of ornamentation visible below the level of the outer wall, the courtyard seeming almost austere, though it was bordered with arches of fine craftsmanship. And more guards, all clad in the same silver-grey tabard, stood in alcoves around the courtyard, and even more flanked the north door, leading into the central tower. It was almost silent in the open space, the hustle and bustle of the city outside not penetrating through the wall, so that only their footfalls could be heard. The silent air seemed filled with a strange reverence, something that made every sound seem absurdly loud.

In the eastern edge of the courtyard, another door, plainer than the others and bound with iron, seemed to lead to a whole other complex of buildings, and Julianna's sharp, wolfish hearing picked up the faint clash of weapons and the shouts of instructors coming from that direction. The last door in the courtyard, set on the western edge, led into a single hall that seemed to have been built right into the hillside, at the very heart of the Hold. It alone, of all the buildings in the Slayerhold, had not been built of white marble, but instead of granite, a hue of grey that seemed even darker amid all the white stone. No guards stood near it, but instead, the statue of a single graven figure stood before it, a tall shape carved by the craft of a master sculptor. It showed a warrior standing almost at attention, staring off towards the eastern sky as if on watch for distant dangers.

Though the warrior was carved of fine white marble, he seemed to be clad in a cloak of grey, carved of a strange stone that contained many subtle hues of red and blue, colors only half perceived, like reflections in a rippling pond. The warrior's sword was drawn, his hands clasped about the hilt, though its point rested on the stone at his feet. Carved into the base of the statue were two lines of words, written in a strange language that Julianna did not know.

Somehow, as she stood in the open courtyard that was almost devoid of people, Julianna suddenly felt very small and insignificant and she instinctually moved a little closer to Galen, her love putting a comforting, warm-furred arm around her as they waited for his brother and the other Master Hunter to finish speaking. And, a few moments later, as the rest of their traveling companions passed into the courtyard, Aldric parted from his friend, the latter returning through the inner wall. As he turned back to them, the white werewolf saw that the elder warrior was troubled, his shoulders slumped as if bearing some great weight, coming towards them slowly.

"What is it brother?" Galen asked and Aldric shook his head.

"The matter that called us here is even more serious than we thought." he replied, looking concerned and the former princess couldn't help but wonder how that could possibly be the case. "Galen, they have called home the Hunters. Every one that could be gathered in haste is already here and more are on their way." The grey werewolf she loved seemed taken aback, visibly shaken by that news, though she couldn't understand why. Heaving a weary sigh as if preparing for a long chore, Aldric looked towards the northern door, "I have to report to the council. I will meet up with you in the Hall when I can." Galen nodded and his brother hurried off towards the keep.

"Come on, this way." Galen said, leading the way towards the statue and the door it guarded while the rest of their companions followed Aldric. As they walked on, their pace slow, measured in the reverent air, Julianna looped her arm through her lover's, moving even closer to him, making him smile, though his face was even more troubled than it had been before.

"Galen, what is the matter?" She asked and he sighed, slowing to a stop and looking down at the cobbles at his feet.

"Most of the time, those of us who have accepted the Hunter's mantle, are free from the influence of the council." He began, gazing back up at the sun for a moment before continuing. "Our vow, our duty, requires us to hunt in the wild for long stretches, often for months or even years at a time, but because of our long experience, and our perpetual fight, we are probably the most skilled of all the Slayers. The council has always considered our task and our dedication important enough to leave us to it. But if they have called the Hunters home..."

"Then they must think they will need them." Julianna finished her mate's thought, suddenly understanding the seriousness of such a situation. "Has it ever been done before?"

"Not for more than a thousand years." He replied, a shiver passing through him despite the warm sunlight. "Not since the last great kingdom fell."

Julianna barely suppressed a shiver of her own as they continued on westward over the hard cobbles towards the hall of grey stone. That had been a very troubled time of history. With the fall of the kingdom that had built the great King's road, chaos had reigned throughout the world as the nobles had fought with one another, each seeking dominance over the others. New kingdoms rose and fell endlessly, redrawing the map so often and so swiftly that they had often passed unmarked, until none could remember how many had existed. And with such chaos in the world, the demons had risen in greater numbers than ever before, killing and corrupting at will. Though the demon hunters and the priesthoods had fought fiercely to stem their tide, it had not been enough. When the world had stabilized more than a hundred years later, the demon hunters had almost been wiped out, and it had taken them another hundred years to recover their strength and numbers. And, it was widely agreed that never, in all the centuries since then had times ever been so dark.

And then, such chilling thoughts were driven from her mind as they approached the foot of the statue and her gaze tracked up its surface. The closer they got to the carved figure, the more Julianna began to notice details in the work of the carving, subtle things that she at first wondered if she imagined. But, as they stopped before its feet, she began to perceive that the details were really there, that the master's craft had been lavished not, as in other statues, on the ideas of perfection, but instead on something more earthy, more true to life. Close up, the carven figure's clothing and sword appeared patched and careworn, battered and stained by long, hard use. And looking on the warrior's face, Julianna realized that, while from a distance he looked hale and young, up close, he was scarred, weather-beaten and weary as if he had been aged beyond his years by great toil. And finally, as Galen brushed his fingers reverently over the carven words at its base, a sudden thought occurred to her. The unknown sculptor whose work stood here had captured not only the image of a Hunter's endless vigil, but also the price of their vow, forever enshrining in stone their ceaseless struggle. And finally, Galen spoke once more, his voice still quiet and reverent.

"This statue stands before the entrance to the Hall of Hunters." He said, looking up at the carven figure once more. "It is a place where only the Hunters and Master Hunters, and those they love most dearly may enter. Not even the members of the Argent Guard can come inside." Julianna realized at once that he referred to the strangely clad Slayers that seemed to fill the castle and keep, though she had never before heard of the Argent Guard. "It takes a special kind of person to choose this life; some would say only the insane would choose it, to be forever at war, wandering alone into danger for our entire lives. Such a life leaves its own mark upon us, changing us until companionship is strange, and often unwelcome." As he said this, Galen looked over at her with a strange expression on his face, as if at last, the weight of the decades he had spent in the wild were showing through the youthful vigor the wolf spirit preserved within him. "So it was with me. Until I met you." Julianna smiled at his words, hugging him gently, the expression fading from his face as he smiled in return, giving her a gentle kiss.

"What do these say?" Julianna asked, turning back to the statue and touching the odd letters solemnly, trying to take her mind off of just how bleak the life of a Hunter suddenly sounded.

"'For those who walk gladly into deepest shadow,'" Galen read, "'Stepping willingly from the light, to battle endlessly unwitnessed, but not unhonored.' Those were words that were spoken by the head of the first ruling council when the Order of Hunters was founded. He was the first to give us our uniforms, saying that we walked the line between the darkness and the light, so we should be forever marked as such."

"Do we have to go in?" Julianna questioned, feeling suddenly apprehensive as she looked up at the entrance to the hall of dark stone, a shiver sending ripples through her fur. The door was made of the same strange stone as that of the statue's cloak, its surface carved with the mark of the sunburst. But despite the symbol of the followers of Auré, even in the sunshine, the dark stone seemed almost foreboding, solemn and strong. She felt all of a sudden that to enter the hall was like making an oath of honor, something that once done, could not be undone.

"Yes, I think we do." Galen said, taking a step towards the door, his look thoughtful. "The Hunters are my people, more than even the other Slayers could ever be. Besides, we both have the right."

"Alright..." Julianna said, following her lover almost reluctantly as he strode up the short flight of steps to the entrance of the hall. When they reached the doors, Galen put one powerful arm on the stone and pushed. The great stone barrier, which had been shaped so precisely that it looked like a single slab of grey stone, split suddenly down the middle, one half swinging inward into the shadowy interior. Taking a deep breath, the two werewolves walked inside, allowing the door to swing closed behind them.

It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust, but when they finally had, Julianna found herself in a room far smaller than she had expected. It was as dim as winter twilight inside, the walls of grey stone broken only by thin shafts through which the sunlight glimmered faintly. Standing as if on guard before the only other door was another of the silver clad Slayers, but he was silent, unmoved by the sudden appearance of two werewolves. The walls around the lone guard were lined with wooden racks that seemed designed to hold a great many weapons, as if the room were a great armory where the tools of war could be laid in horde. Against the left hand wall, the racks were tall, as if meant for spears or pikes, and opposite, they were oddly shaped, the wooden pegs widely spaced, meant it seemed, for bows or crossbows, along with their quivers. But against the wall across from the entry, a single rack ran nearly the length of the room, its shape clearly designed for the longswords that were the trademark of the Slayers of Auré, as well as the battle daggers that many also carried. But far stranger than the racks and the dim light, and the lone silent guard, was that the room was almost entirely empty. Only six swords were laid here, accompanied by daggers and knives of silver and jade. Somehow, the weapons looked almost forlorn, though they had been stacked side by side.

Before Julianna could ask what they were to do now, Galen had taken off his baldric, crossing to the seventh space in the rack beside the others and sliding his sword into place alongside its fellows. While he was hanging his dagger and the twin knives he carried alongside it, Julianna began to take off the two daggers she carried as well, hanging them beside his, already feeling almost naked without them. And, without a word, as they hung their weapons in the rack, the guard moved from his place before the door, pushing it wide on oiled hinges, his silver-grey tunic appearing almost black in the dim light. And, as Julianna followed Galen through the door, the guard bowed to them, his expression, ever-serious, almost masklike in intensity, not shifting a single iota. And when they had passed into the room beyond the armory, Julianna felt her eyes widen in surprise.

She had expected a room much like to the other in appearance, dim and dark as twilight, all of bare grey stone. But the main common room of the hall was nothing of the sort. Though the walls were of the same grey stone, the sunlight shone brightly down into the room through shafts in the ceiling, and more, torches and braziers of bright coals stood in every dark spot. In the center of the room, amid a quartet of pillars that held the arching ceiling aloft, a fire crackled merrily in a pit, throwing a warm, rosy light over the furnishings. Everywhere that there was no torch or fire, the stone floor had been covered by rugs of woven green cloth bearing the sunburst of Auré, not as soft as those one found in royal settings, but sturdy and smooth. Finely carved tables sat near the walls, chairs and benches around them. In the corners, great barrels and stacks of crates sat, the aroma coming from them that of food of various sorts, as well as ale and mead. The walls were hung with tapestries depicting the symbols of the Slayers against a background of grey, or scenes of ancient battles, victories forever remembered. All things considered, it was a comfortable place, a place that should have been filled with warriors speaking of their battles, or perhaps a place where songs of victory would be sung, and successes celebrated.

And yet, as with the guard room outside it, it too seemed strangely forlorn. Only six figures were there, all but two seated alone in silence. Each wore a cloak of twilight grey over uniforms of white rune cloth, much as Galen did, but there the similarities ended. The other Hunters all bore scars, more even than the veteran Slayers Julianna had seen before, and all had the same, hard, almost grim look on their faces. Though all seemed young enough, they appeared battered and worn, their hair prematurely greyed. And yet, though they were almost terrible to look upon, all exuded the same air of competence that only the most experienced warriors acquired. And, as Julianna examined them more closely, she noticed that most carried with them a visible injury more than the scars. The two who stood together by the fire talking in low, quiet voices, perhaps younger than the rest, alone seemed intact. Of the rest, one, who sat near the far wall, lacked his right arm, and another's left ended in a three pronged claw of silver and jade where his hand should have been, shaped much like to the talons of a hawk, the metal catching the light of the fires like a mirror. And one, the nearest, the wrinkles of age merging with scars upon his face, who wore a patch over his right eye, glowered at them with obvious suspicion, rising to his feet before speaking.

"Who are you who dare to enter here under the curse of the wolf?" he asked, his voice gruff and harsh, causing the others to look in their direction as well.

"I am Galen, son of Anton Galnikin," Galen said, drawing himself up to his full height, defying the gaze of the grey cloaked warriors. "I hunt alone, as you do. And this is my beloved, Julianna of the royal house of Gulnia."

"You bear the tokens of a hunter," The one armed Hunter said, his voice a hoarse croak. As he spoke, he raised his head, revealing scars that were distinctly that of claws across his throat. "But you carry the curse of our foes, so speak quickly. How dare you come into our hall so clad?" And suddenly, as the harsh question rang in the silent hall, Julianna felt a strange heat rise in her heart, a feeling of equal parts indignation and anger. And before Galen could reply, she found herself answering instead, the timid foreboding and fear she had felt while entering here gone.

"How dare he?" She demanded, her voice rising in wrath as she spoke, all of the Hunters, including Galen, staring at her in surprise. "How dare you. Galen has more right than any of you to wear the grey of a Hunter. He, who, despite being cursed this way decades ago, has never wavered in his duty. He who has the blessing of Auré himself, who has journeyed across the length and breadth of the continent, slaying demons beyond count for longer than most of you have been Slayers. He, who walked into the realm of the demons itself and fought with a dark god in his own fortress and emerged victorious. And never once, in all the time he has hunted alone, has he ever asked for recognition of his deeds. How dare you now question his right to be here? What gives you the right to ask such a thing?"

Dead silence greeted her statement, and though she felt a blush of embarrassment begin to warm her cheeks, she stood straight and still, looking each Hunter in the eye, daring them to contradict her. For long moments, the human Hunters glared at the werewolves, tension making the still air of the room crackle with energy. And then, the one eyed Hunter's grimly lined face eased and his gruff voice was raised in sudden rich laughter, full of mirth and not mocking as she had expected.

"Well spoken, my lady!!" he exclaimed, looking on her with admiration, "And with such spirit..." Nodding slightly in respect, he looked around at the other Hunters, "If even half of what she says is true, Galen has earned the right to be here. Be at ease brothers." The others looked surprised, but bowed to him in respect and he walked towards the newcomers with a broad grin on his lips, speaking in a quieter tone, his eyes on Galen. "I count your father among my close friends, son of Anton, and his story of how you fell in battle all those years ago never did sound quite right to me. I now understand why. Please forgive me for my earlier rudeness." Galen nodded and the Hunter extended a hand that was missing two fingers. As the pair clasped forearms, the older hunter continued. "I am Hunter Sero of Trathus, and my count of years wearing the grey cloak exceeds yours by six, though I dare say you eclipse me in deeds. That is Hunter Adrian of Undar," He said, pointing to the man with the claw for a hand, "Hunter Tanaris and his brother Yarin, both originally of the Jurownian islands," he continued, pointing to the two who had been talking quietly together, and they bowed gravely, "Hunter Yunian is over there in the corner, and Hunter Feanor is the one missing an arm. We have heard that a few more are on their way, though we can't expect them for at least a few weeks." Finally, with a sidelong glance at Galen, he continued. "I suppose it isn't too far of a stretch to say that your adventures are likely part of why we have been summoned home?"

"Yes, though I know nothing for sure." Galen replied. "Out of curiosity, have you noticed a distinct lack of demons in the wilderness in recent weeks?"

"Indeed, and I must say it is more troubling than anything I have yet seen." Sero commented, guiding the two of them to a table near the fire pit. "But, I expect the council will have something to say on the matter. In the meantime, I would like to hear the real story of the last twenty years, since it is clear you didn't perish in battle long ago."

"Very well." Galen replied, putting an arm around Julianna as he began his tale...

***

Julianna and I sat at a table against the hall's western most wall, enjoying tankards of fine mead. The other hunters were scattered around the room once more, most alone with their thoughts and the only sound was the crackling of the central fire. It had been a few hours since we had concluded our tale, and the sunlight filtering in through the ceiling was starting to become orange as dusk fell outside the hall. The other Hunters had been impressed by the story of my long hunt, and especially by the details of our most recent journey, and even Feanor, who had been decidedly hostile during the telling our story, seemed to warm up to us. It was only after we had told our story that Sero, who, by virtue of his long experience, was counted as the leader of the Hunters, had told us exactly why the one armed hunter had been so standoffish. When he had been young, before he had become a Slayer, Feanor's entire family had been murdered by a werewolf. Only by feigning death had he survived the encounter, the claw marks across his throat a souvenir of the event. Since then, he had possessed an exceptional hatred of our kind, going out of his way to fight and kill the werewolves he encountered.

"I wonder what is taking your brother?" Julianna questioned, sipping her mug and snapping me out of my musings.

"That is a good question." I replied, admiring the tapestry that hung nearest to where we were sitting. It depicted a battle in the dark days after the great kingdom fell, when an army of demons had laid siege to the Slayerhold for more than a year. The siege had finally been broken when the Slayers defending the city had, when faced with starvation and death, charged out in force, taking the demons by surprise. It was a very famous fight, and though the death toll among the Slayers had been high, it had also been a great victory, leaving many thousands of demons dead. It had been the last time that the Hold had come under such a threat, and many thought that the demons had learned their lesson. "I imagine the council will have many questions for him." Julianna heaved a sigh of contentment and leaned her head onto my shoulder, and I smiled, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

"I guess." She replied, and returned my smile. "I can see now why you said we should come here. This place feels...right somehow; sort of how our wolf forms feel in comparison to our human selves."

"I am glad that you like it here." I said, taking a sip of my own drink. I knew what she meant. The Hall seemed somehow just to fit us, as odd as that seemed. After a moment, my mate spoke up again, her tone drowsy, almost like she was drifting off into sleep once again.

"What exactly is the Argent Guard?" She asked, "You haven't mentioned them before."

"The Argent Guard is made up of three companies of Slayers," I explained, "Who are tasked with the protection of the Slayerhold and of the ruling council. Only a veteran Slayer who the council decides is worthy can join the Guard, but it is both a blessing and curse."

"Sort of like being a werewolf?" Julianna asked, her tone teasing.

"Not quite," I replied, grinning at her joke. "Being in the Guard means that you no longer go abroad, but it also means you are not allowed distractions that might take you mind off of your duty. Meaning no romance, no ties or contact to anything but the Guard. I am sure you can understand why it is only a few guardsmen who remain in it for more than a few years."

"That is silly." My love stated. "Being in love only strengthens a Slayer's resolve. I mean, look at you. Would you have done all the amazing things you have done recently if we had not fallen in love?"

"Probably not." I agreed, nuzzling her neck. "But tradition is tradition."

Julianna's reply was cut off suddenly by the door leading the armory sliding open, the sound loud in the silent space. We both looked up, expecting to see my brother coming in at last, but instead, the lone guard stood in the doorway, just within the guard room, his eyes scanning the hall. When his gaze spied me, he motioned for me to come over. Shrugging, I drained my mug and got up, walking over to the door with Julianna following me. When I got near enough, the guard stepped to the side and allowed us to enter armory, revealing six members of the Argent Guard, lead by a man wearing the ranks of a Captain.

"Hunter Galen," the Captain began, looking on me with an evaluating expression on his face. "Your presence is immediately requested by the council."

"Alright, we will be right there." I replied, but the officer shook his head.

"I am sorry Hunter, but it was the command of the council that only you were to come, not your companion." He explained and Julianna looked disappointed.

"Its alright love," I said, embracing her, "I will be back before long."

"I will ask Sero to show me where we will be staying." She said as we parted from our embrace and turned, walking back into the common room of the hall, the guard shutting the door behind her. Still smiling, I turned and started to walk to where I had stowed my weapons, but the captain again shook his head.

"I must apologize again Hunter, I should have been clearer." He said, moving so he stood in my path. "But you must leave your weapons where they lie."

"May I ask why?" I questioned, my smile fading instantly. All of a sudden, I felt my wolf half stir itself to wariness, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck begin to perk up. Something seemed suddenly out of place, though the guardsmen and their captain had made no threatening gestures or gave so much as a hint that their purpose was anything but what they seemed to be.

"No Slayer besides the Argent Guard may carry weapons into the council chamber when a trial is being held." The Captain said matter-of-factly.

"Trial?!" I exclaimed, the hair along my spine suddenly standing at attention. "What trial?"

"I cannot answer that Hunter Galen." The captain replied, motioning towards the door. "My orders were to bring you as swiftly as possible to bear witness at a trial before the council, nothing more. So, if you wouldn't mind hurrying, we are running late already..."