It struck the creature full in the chest,
dropped harmlessly to the ground.
"Athena, farewell!"
The creature's claws touched his arm, cutting effortlessly
through cloth and through flesh.
"Face me, worm of death. I've traveled through space and time
to challenge you, and you return to your lair only through me."
The creature rose, loosed the boy. It turned to face Beowulf.
Throughout the forest the scream of anger sounded!
It charged the waiting swordsman.
Claws extended, fangs bared, it leaped with fury on its foe.
Quickly they were joined by sound of blows, the whistle of
Beowulf's blade in air. With every motion the sword gleamed with
a strange and changing light. Now a deep and glowing red. Then a
green that seemed to flow its length, changing to sunlight
yellow. And all besmeared with the blood of Wyrd!
Blood flowed, both red and green!
Beowulf fell before the onslaught, rose again.
Demo watched, transfixed. Even in the horror of nightmare was
not seen such fearsome battle!
Wounded both and bleeding, and still the battle continued!
The moon dropped from view, and the gentle stars looked down on
the frenzied struggle.
In despair Demo saw Beowulf fall, his sword dropping from his
hand.
Demo lunged forward quickly, was struck down as quickly. He
felt a bump rising on his head where the blow had landed. He
crawled forward, fell, lay still. The creature turned once more
to Beowulf, its blood-drenched claws extended.
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