Lancelot 7: To Kill a Griffin

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Elizabeth's POV:

            It was dark out, the sun had just set, leaving only the lamps as our light source. After getting our armor on and our horses saddled, we set out, riding through the dimly lit kingdom and out the front gate. We entered the dark woods just outside the kingdom, the only light being provided by the moon as it crept its way through the dense foliage above.  It was silent out, only the sound of the horses' hooves making contact with the soggy ground below was audible.I looked to my left where Arthur rode his horse beside me, his eyes fixed dead ahead, searching for signs of the griffin. I observed his body language. Though his face looked calm, his hands seemed tense, gripping at the reins. He was scared, though he wouldn't let anyone see. My focus was pulled away from Arthur by a body-chilling screech, one that caused all our horses to stop dead in their tracks in the middle of a clearing.

             I spotted its eyes before anything else. The bright yellow orbs glow in the darkness, staring at us. It crept out of the shadows of the forest, revealing itself to us. Arthur drew his sword, raising it high above him.

"For Camelot," He yelled. We all drew our swords, raising them to the sky.

"For Camelot," The knights yelled. With that we charged toward the beast,  yelling in furry. The brave knights of Camelot and me, the lost princess. Yet our heroic moment was short-lived. The griffin came running towards us, raming through our defenses. Sending us flying off our horses. I landed on my back with a hard thud, my head making contact with a stone.  Spots slowly clouded my vision, the frightened screams of the knights filling the air.

"Arthur," One yelled, his voice full of horror. I tilted my head to my right, my hazy vision landing on Arthur, who had fallen next to me. His eyes were closed, blood seeping from a gash on his forehead. I reached for his hand that lay limply at his side, our fingers just barely brushing. 

"Arthur," I whisper, my voice failing me, the edges of my vision clouding before going completely dark.

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Merlin's POV:

            The sound of terrified screams filled the dark knight, grabbing both Lancelot's and I's attention. We had set out on two horses in hopes to help Arthur defeat the griffin, knowing that the only way to kill it was with magic. Earlier in the day, I had tried to enchant a sword that would be able to kill the beast, but I was sadly unsuccessful. So here Lancelot and I were, in the dark-lit forest with no way of killing the beast. We both exchanged a look of concern before setting off toward where the fear-filled screams came from.                 

            We arrived at a dimly lit clearing. Knights were scattered everywhere, either badly wounded or dead. Bright blonde hair caught the corner of my eye, pulling my attention toward the center of the clearing where Arthur laid peacefully, with no serious wounds visible other than a gash on his head. Lying next to him was Elizabeth,  who didn't seem badly injured, that is until I noticed a small pool of blood creating a halo around her head. I silently crept over to the two.

"Arthur. Elizabeth," I whispered as I fell to my knees at their heads. Elizabeth seemed to be in worse shape than Arthur, seeing as the back of her head made contact with a large stone on the ground. The two had their hands extended towards one another, their fingertips just barely brushing against one another. I checked for breathing, a flood of relief overtaking me when I noticed the two's chests rising and falling steadily.

"Well," came Lancelot's concerned, but soft voice as he came to kneel beside me.

"They are alive," I softly stated. Our attention was suddenly pulled away from the two as an ear-piercing screech erupted from the darkness. We both turned to face the source of the noise that came from the shadows, spotting two bright eyes looking back at us.  The griffin strode out of the darkness of the dense forest, slowly making its way toward us. Lancelot ran back two his horse, throwing himself onto its back and hastily grabbing his sword from his side.

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