Damages
The city was in an uproar. The Chimeras and the Council were on the defensive. All it took was one boy’s death put in front of the whole world, one failure on our part to protect someone. And now, the people were in protest and rioting. But they were not looking for justice. They wanted blood.
A naga had entered the city and me and my team along with a few other squads had been put on alert to find and detain it. Unfortunately, before we had discovered its location, it had discovered eight-year-old Dougie Moleson.
The child had been outside in the evening, playing with friends and by the time the alert was sent out to the citizens, the naga was already in the vicinity of the child’s neighborhood. By the time my team and I had arrived, the serpent’s fangs were sunk into the boy’s shoulder. A venomous bite from a naga would kill a young simian in less than an hour, but a human child would die in a couple of minutes. We had an antidote for the venom, but the boy’s minutes were up. We were late.
In a few moments we had subdued the serpent, but dealing with him was a breeze compared to breaking the news of the boy’s death to the parents. Someone had to be blamed, and if not the killer, then it might as well be the ones who are sworn to protect and obviously failed that duty. Someone would have to pay.
By our code, the Chimeras are not allowed to use lethal force on any perp, whether human or therian, unless it is deemed necessary in the protection of civilians or unless the actions of the perpetrator may be cause to incite war. In retrospect, we would have been well within our rights to put down the serpent, but that would not have brought the boy back to his family.
“How? How can the life of that disgusting, belly-dragging, scaly aberration outweigh the life of an innocent boy? The Council is meant to serve as the head of the Alliance and everyone under it, but there are no serpents who contribute to our nation. Nagas are enemies to us all! And the one in your custody should be shown no more mercy than it showed our boy!” This was the argument of Mrs. Moleson in her hearing before the Council.
The Sons of Adam, a radical group that has pushed for reform in the Alliance since its beginnings, specifically for strict control over and harsher treatment of therian citizens, jumped at the opportunity to win others for their cause. While people protested the protection of the snake outside of the capitol building, they brought their soapboxes to draw their own audience.
“One great war was fought so that we could be freed of the fear of these animals, and because of the foolish beliefs of the Alliance’s so-called hero, Orion, we are now living alongside them and trying to maintain this unstable peace. But relationships with those monsters is frangible at best.
“They are destroying our culture. While our numbers plateau, their populations are skyrocketing in comparison, benefitting from our technologies, our resources. They birth offspring with our people, diluting our genes and creating more of their own, those abominations. They are nothing but a plague on humanity, these therians and their half-breed spawn.
“Those parasites, the bloodsuckers, are feeding on people in hidden facilities and snatching people from the streets at night. These wart-ridden, web-footed freaks are multiplying quickly and taking over some of the most arable lands. Men have been torn apart by those uncivilized cat-men and dog-men and crushed by those ugly hirsute giants called simians. Women have probably been violated by the monstrosities and have been too afraid to tell the stories for fear of the monsters returning for them, though they haunt their memories and dreams in one form and often walk among us in another. People have gone missing in the forests of the hoofed half-breeds and the feathered beasts or return maimed. The leathery belly-crawlers and scuttlers, the ugly brutes, the shape-shifting snake-whores, and those freaking winged, rock monsters that are all supposed to be banned from crossing our borders have infiltrated our lands twice, which shows the Council and their peacekeepers can’t even be relied on to secure our borders.
“Besides the fact that certain beasts are allowed citizenship in our cities due to the creation of this Nue-Gaea Alliance, they are already profiting from our works, but it is worse when they are put in positions of power as members of the Alliance’s Council and Chimera peacekeepers. Furred, fanged and feathered freaks are leading discussions on policies that govern us and walking around in armor, armed with weapons of our design that they could easily use against us. In all of the years that the Alliance has existed there have still been more instances of therian-human violence than violence against those of the same species. Those that govern us don’t even allow us the freedom to bear arms, but they put so much faith in these animals to do so! We must stomp them all out as easily as we exterminate those oversized insects that have attempted to invade our lands and consume us and our property. There are no lies about killing those monsters? Why? Because they are a threat to all of us!
“It is only a matter of time before the levee breaks and the tides of war wash over us again, but if we don’t act first, I assure you all that we and our children will be drowning in our own blood. If there is going to be a time to act, the time should be now! Human laws cannot be applied to wild creatures who live only by the law of the jungles! Let the councilmen know that man should have no covenant with beasts!”
A hundred cheers echoed and hands applauded their approval. The Sons of Adam had won some support today and it made my blood boil to see such bigotry afflict the minds of people made vulnerable by such a tragedy. There were many therians among the crowd and in the ranks of the Chimeras who stood guard around the Capitol, but fortunately they chose to only hiss or growl their disapproval or leave the crowd of protesters rather than start a brawl.
The Sons of Adam’s brand of hatemongering was tolerated to some degree by our superiors. Until the Council said otherwise, we were not allowed to infringe on their right to speak out publicly, but their underground activities, procuring weapons and assaulting therians, was intolerable. So far only a few individuals could be tied to the illegal activities, but it would only be a matter of time before we would be able to shut their organization down. At least, we hoped so.
Hope was all we had. Hope is what our crest represented. The Chimeras. To let the world see humans and therians cooperate to build a stronger nation, protect all lives with our own, and defeat those who desired to spread fear, such as the Sons of Adam and the naga, was what the Chimeras were assembled to do. We represented the vision Orion had for the world. In times like this we were also reminded that we were not only the Alliance’s sword and shield but a major part of its foundation.
In a split decision the Council ruled to execute the naga before a small audience, including the Moleson family. A large sum of credits was also offered to the family, but no monetary amount could ever really compensate for the loss of a child. However, the execution of the naga would not give them the peace they desired either, but would only set a precedent for harsher treatment of therians to please the masses. Whether they chose to give blood or mercy, the damage was done.
In this single decision, the Council would lose a lot of support from those who believed in the way of peace. But people were hateful, angry, sad and afraid—all emotions of weakness that evil can prey on. Fortunately, the Alliance will always have loyal peacekeepers to bear the light. Unfortunately, like the snake that came in the night and killed little Dougie, evil has a way of striking from and burrowing in the darkness, but we may never have any idea of how deep that darkness truly goes…
A naga had entered the city and me and my team along with a few other squads had been put on alert to find and detain it. Unfortunately, before we had discovered its location, it had discovered eight-year-old Dougie Moleson.
The child had been outside in the evening, playing with friends and by the time the alert was sent out to the citizens, the naga was already in the vicinity of the child’s neighborhood. By the time my team and I had arrived, the serpent’s fangs were sunk into the boy’s shoulder. A venomous bite from a naga would kill a young simian in less than an hour, but a human child would die in a couple of minutes. We had an antidote for the venom, but the boy’s minutes were up. We were late.
In a few moments we had subdued the serpent, but dealing with him was a breeze compared to breaking the news of the boy’s death to the parents. Someone had to be blamed, and if not the killer, then it might as well be the ones who are sworn to protect and obviously failed that duty. Someone would have to pay.
By our code, the Chimeras are not allowed to use lethal force on any perp, whether human or therian, unless it is deemed necessary in the protection of civilians or unless the actions of the perpetrator may be cause to incite war. In retrospect, we would have been well within our rights to put down the serpent, but that would not have brought the boy back to his family.
“How? How can the life of that disgusting, belly-dragging, scaly aberration outweigh the life of an innocent boy? The Council is meant to serve as the head of the Alliance and everyone under it, but there are no serpents who contribute to our nation. Nagas are enemies to us all! And the one in your custody should be shown no more mercy than it showed our boy!” This was the argument of Mrs. Moleson in her hearing before the Council.
The Sons of Adam, a radical group that has pushed for reform in the Alliance since its beginnings, specifically for strict control over and harsher treatment of therian citizens, jumped at the opportunity to win others for their cause. While people protested the protection of the snake outside of the capitol building, they brought their soapboxes to draw their own audience.
“One great war was fought so that we could be freed of the fear of these animals, and because of the foolish beliefs of the Alliance’s so-called hero, Orion, we are now living alongside them and trying to maintain this unstable peace. But relationships with those monsters is frangible at best.
“They are destroying our culture. While our numbers plateau, their populations are skyrocketing in comparison, benefitting from our technologies, our resources. They birth offspring with our people, diluting our genes and creating more of their own, those abominations. They are nothing but a plague on humanity, these therians and their half-breed spawn.
“Those parasites, the bloodsuckers, are feeding on people in hidden facilities and snatching people from the streets at night. These wart-ridden, web-footed freaks are multiplying quickly and taking over some of the most arable lands. Men have been torn apart by those uncivilized cat-men and dog-men and crushed by those ugly hirsute giants called simians. Women have probably been violated by the monstrosities and have been too afraid to tell the stories for fear of the monsters returning for them, though they haunt their memories and dreams in one form and often walk among us in another. People have gone missing in the forests of the hoofed half-breeds and the feathered beasts or return maimed. The leathery belly-crawlers and scuttlers, the ugly brutes, the shape-shifting snake-whores, and those freaking winged, rock monsters that are all supposed to be banned from crossing our borders have infiltrated our lands twice, which shows the Council and their peacekeepers can’t even be relied on to secure our borders.
“Besides the fact that certain beasts are allowed citizenship in our cities due to the creation of this Nue-Gaea Alliance, they are already profiting from our works, but it is worse when they are put in positions of power as members of the Alliance’s Council and Chimera peacekeepers. Furred, fanged and feathered freaks are leading discussions on policies that govern us and walking around in armor, armed with weapons of our design that they could easily use against us. In all of the years that the Alliance has existed there have still been more instances of therian-human violence than violence against those of the same species. Those that govern us don’t even allow us the freedom to bear arms, but they put so much faith in these animals to do so! We must stomp them all out as easily as we exterminate those oversized insects that have attempted to invade our lands and consume us and our property. There are no lies about killing those monsters? Why? Because they are a threat to all of us!
“It is only a matter of time before the levee breaks and the tides of war wash over us again, but if we don’t act first, I assure you all that we and our children will be drowning in our own blood. If there is going to be a time to act, the time should be now! Human laws cannot be applied to wild creatures who live only by the law of the jungles! Let the councilmen know that man should have no covenant with beasts!”
A hundred cheers echoed and hands applauded their approval. The Sons of Adam had won some support today and it made my blood boil to see such bigotry afflict the minds of people made vulnerable by such a tragedy. There were many therians among the crowd and in the ranks of the Chimeras who stood guard around the Capitol, but fortunately they chose to only hiss or growl their disapproval or leave the crowd of protesters rather than start a brawl.
The Sons of Adam’s brand of hatemongering was tolerated to some degree by our superiors. Until the Council said otherwise, we were not allowed to infringe on their right to speak out publicly, but their underground activities, procuring weapons and assaulting therians, was intolerable. So far only a few individuals could be tied to the illegal activities, but it would only be a matter of time before we would be able to shut their organization down. At least, we hoped so.
Hope was all we had. Hope is what our crest represented. The Chimeras. To let the world see humans and therians cooperate to build a stronger nation, protect all lives with our own, and defeat those who desired to spread fear, such as the Sons of Adam and the naga, was what the Chimeras were assembled to do. We represented the vision Orion had for the world. In times like this we were also reminded that we were not only the Alliance’s sword and shield but a major part of its foundation.
In a split decision the Council ruled to execute the naga before a small audience, including the Moleson family. A large sum of credits was also offered to the family, but no monetary amount could ever really compensate for the loss of a child. However, the execution of the naga would not give them the peace they desired either, but would only set a precedent for harsher treatment of therians to please the masses. Whether they chose to give blood or mercy, the damage was done.
In this single decision, the Council would lose a lot of support from those who believed in the way of peace. But people were hateful, angry, sad and afraid—all emotions of weakness that evil can prey on. Fortunately, the Alliance will always have loyal peacekeepers to bear the light. Unfortunately, like the snake that came in the night and killed little Dougie, evil has a way of striking from and burrowing in the darkness, but we may never have any idea of how deep that darkness truly goes…
A Game of Cat and Wolf
Ulric stood alongside Randolph on the open plain, staring up at the skies. It was the beginning of winter and even the gentle winds blowing around the pair would have made the skin of any normal man tingle, but these two were not normal men. Nor were the three scores of their comrades standing behind them in a half circle. And the calm winds blowing now belied the violence that was to come.
Ulric was watching the dark clouds amass overhead. “I guess this is what they call the quiet before the storm,” he said aloud to no one in particular.
Randolph, who had seemed to be in a trance, staring off at the woodland at the far end of the plain finally turned to his younger colleague and asked, “What was that, Ulric?”
Ulric turned to look up into the dark eyes of his pack leader and mentor. There was no fear, anger, or regret for what was to come. Randolph’s calm demeanor, even before a dangerous trial or a hardship, had always put Ulric in awe. There was no other like him. Randolph was said to be one of the most respected lycans in all of Nue-Gaea, though not the most feared. Ulric had once asked him why that was and the pack leader simply replied, “Because there are many who choose to use fear as a weapon, but respect and adoration are far more useful to a leader”. Ulric smiled and nodded then, but did not fully understand his meaning.
“It was nothing, Lord Randolph,” Ulric said.
Randolph chuckled at that. It was the first time all day since they left their home in Wolcott, as their land founded by the elder wolves came to be called, that he showed any emotion. Randolph had seemed so focused on the matters at hand that nothing seemed to elicit so much as a gleam in his eye.
“I’ve told you hundreds of times Ulric that there’s no need for you to call me ‘lord’. You’re like my son and just ‘Randolph’ will do.”
“Yeah,” Ulric said, “but today you stand as not only the leader of our pack, but as our champion. Even the cat princess, Zariel, wouldn’t dare to fight you in single combat.”
“We shall see in the next few moments,” Randolph said returning his gaze across the field to the tree line. “They are already here.”
Ulric followed Randolph’s gaze toward the trees. For a few moments he saw nothing. Then the wind blew stronger and he was aware of what Randolph meant before he saw the shadows shifting around the edges of the forest. Randolph had smelled them long before they came into anyone’s sight. Ulric had to wonder how he had let the scent evade him. Had any of the others of their pack smelled the cats as well, or could Randolph’s senses have been far keener than any other wolf around?
Ulric began to become uneasy as he saw the numbers of ailuranthropes, cat shape shifters, now emerging. There must have been at least a hundred of them! It was uncommon for so many to come together in one area. Cats were especially territorial and very independent for the most part. There were few who would group with others of their own kind. But Ulric had heard of the charismatic ailuranthrope princess, Zariel, and how she had assembled the cat-people into large unions for the sake of the Nue-Gaea Alliance.
“May the Allfather smile down on us today,” Ulric said under his breath as the cats strode across the plain toward them.
It was clear which one of them was Princess Zariel. She strode ahead of the others, with a grace that seemed to befit a goddess more than a cat. And her beauty would suit a creature of divinity in Ulric’s mind. She had thick, mousse brown hair, beautiful caramel skin, a slender body, and the most alluring eyes Ulric had ever seen, slightly slanted and glinting as if they were coated with gold. She wore a sleeveless red dress that came to the length of her knee, made of very sheer material from Ulric’s observation, but the closer she got the more he could appreciate it. The other cats, Ulric noted, were dressed in a similar manner, all in their human skins, but wearing light clothing that could be shed easily.
They came prepared in the event that this became a full-on warzone, Ulric thought. They wear clothes that they can remove quickly should they need to transform. I guess we all had the same idea.
The lycans in their company had chosen to wear nothing but the clothing deemed necessary for simple modesty. Ulric believed that the reason for this was really that they had all hoped to be selected to represent the pack in Randolph’s stead, but Ulric knew, as he was sure they all did, that it was not likely. Randolph was not one to second guess.
Princess Zariel stopped several yards short of Randolph and Ulric. The other cats, with the exception of four large ones who remained beside the princess, fell in line, shoulder to shoulder, forming their own semicircle behind their leader. Ulric assumed the four must have been her personal guards, but from what Ulric had heard of her, she was not the type to keep a unit of big, strong men at her side for the sake of security. Zariel was more than efficient enough to deal with any threat imposed on her.
“Hello, Lord Randolph,” Zariel said, flashing a beautiful white smile and inclining her head toward the elder wolf.
“Hello, Princess Zariel,” Randolph said, bowing low but keeping his head up enough to keep his own eyes locked with the cat-woman’s.
“I apologize for the wait, but in the interest of time, we can skip the formalities and get right into our main event.”
“That would be splendid.”
Zariel nodded and took a few steps back. The four cats that flanked her remained in the position.
The winds were now blowing stronger. A rumble of thunder sounded above.
Zariel raised her head and announced, “As the laws of our two clans state, any dispute may be settled in a Trial of Champions. Today, the cat clans under the authority of myself, Princess Zariel, and the wolves of the pack of the noble Lord Randolph will witness a duel in the Trial of Champions to settle a dispute of territory.”
Zariel then looked back to Randolph and gestured toward the four males standing before her now. “Before me are the four who have volunteered to fight and represent us in the trial. Because our side demanded this duel to settle our dispute, we defer the choice of our champion to you, the leader of the opposing clan.”
Randolph simply nodded once.
Ulric tensed and cast a nervous glance toward him. His face had regained that same demeanor that he usually assumed when deliberating over what to eat for breakfast. Ulric couldn’t help but feel concerned.
This whole thing is my fault, Ulric thought. I was the one caught hunting on the ailuran’s territory. Since I was trespassing and I broke our one-hundred-year treaty, I should be doing this.
Before Ulric could open his mouth to tell Randolph he wanted to take responsibility, Randolph’s hand rose up and he pointed forward. “I choose him,” Randolph said, indicating the largest of the four in the line.
The young man selected took a step forward and the other three stepped back to stand beside their princess. The young man, standing alone now, seemed to look all too smug, smirking and staring defiantly across the line of wolves, apparently sizing them all up. He looked to be probably only a few years older than Ulric, but he had the most intense yellow eyes Ulric had ever seen in a young man, so wise, experienced. He was well built and handsome with pale skin and blonde hair that was well-groomed and brushed to one side.
“Very well,” Zariel said. “Namir will be the champion of our cats. And your own champion?”
“Our champion will be myself!” Randolph announced. “As pack leader and guardian of Ulric, who is still very young, I take it upon myself to fight in this Trial on his behalf.”
The lycans remained silent, but it was obvious the cats were disturbed. Low hisses and whispers emitted from the line of cats. Even the smirk on the ailuran Namir’s face faded. Surprisingly, all but Princess Zariel seemed surprised.
“I will allow it!” Zariel said over the whispers of the crowd. “The champions will take their places on the field and we will commence with the duel.”
Ulric knew arguing was futile now. He silently joined the other wolves in the semicircle as Randolph stepped toward the young man, Namir.
The thunder and lightning high above seemed to rumble and flash with Randolph’s movements, emphasizing every step he took forward, as if he were some kind of elemental being creating the disturbance in the atmosphere himself with the slightest gestures. Randolph walked with his head high and the swagger that befitted the lord of the wolves.
Once Randolph and the young cat were only a few paces apart they stopped and gave each other a curt nod of the head before they began to pace around each other. Normally, combatants would do this simply to catch their opponent off guard and potentially strike a blind spot, but apparently this was a part of the Trial as well. This allowed the combatants to properly prepare themselves so there would be no dispute of unfairness from the start.
Even from his position on the field, Ulric could see the transformation of both of the warriors from the first bulge of their arms to the elongation of their jaws with each pass. Both were proceeding to shed their remaining clothes as their bodies changed. Randolph’s steel gray fur appeared to explode from the smooth dark skin on his arms and legs and a thick tail burst forth from his lower back. Namir’s fingers and nails stretched out into talons and his ears grew pointed, his own skin became covered in a thick coat of titian and buttercream fur with black stripes across his back.
Within only a few moments the changes were complete and the now fully transformed warriors stopped their pacing and stood poised in fighting stances, facing each other. Namir retained those same intense yellow eyes, but they seemed to glow with even more ferocity now that they were set in the face of a well-muscled killing machine complete with sharp teeth and claws. Randolph was no pushover either though as everyone already knew before his change. He was still a head taller than his adversary and more heavily muscled, armed with not only claws, but also his keen intellect in addition to his superior senses.
For a few heartbeats as Ulric gazed upon the combatants, time seemed to freeze. The winds fell silent and the thunder ceased with the crackle of lightning. The sounds of the small nocturnal forest creatures also stopped. Neither a wolf nor cat within the immediate area even blinked. And then…
Both Randolph and Namir lunged toward each other simultaneously as if they had exchanged words psychically and agreed that now was the time to get the main event underway. The two fighters clashed swinging claws and snapping with jaws all while avoiding any serious injury. It was natural for lycans and ailurans to aim for the jugular when trying to bring their prey down as quickly as possible, and though neither of them found purchase with their teeth in the initial engagement, there was an exchange of blows with fists and feet. While Namir slashed at Randolph’s torso, the elder wolf managed to smash the cat’s ribs and head with heavy punches.
Once the fighters disengaged each other to catch their second wind, the difference in their battle strength was clear. Namir was obviously a skilled fighter and much faster than the seasoned lycan, landing the most successive blows and gracefully dodging most of Randolph’s attacks. It was Randolph however who had the most fighting experience and power on his side, dealing more fearsome blows that seemed to put the young cat off balance (which most humans claimed was near impossible to do) and countered his attacker’s best moves to use his force against him. The fighters were now pacing around slowly, searching for their next opportunity to strike.
The ranks of lycans and cats on the field were no longer silent now. Since the first attack, howls, cheers, and hisses were casted from both sides of the field. The two clans were being worked into a frenzy now, seeing their allies fight as they were left to stand by idly. But all who looked on knew that this was a fight for honor, not a simple blood brawl. And for that reason they did not jeer the opposing side or call for the execution of the opposing champion, but only cheered and shouted accolades for their own champions.
Ulric could see that Princess Zariel was the only one of her kind who gazed on silently and calm. Her arms were folded over her chest and she was completely composed except for something in her face. Was she…amused?
Namir was now several feet away from Randolph and crouched low on all fours, growling in defiance. Randolph was still standing on two legs, hunched slightly with his arms up and head low, waiting to intercept the next attack. He didn’t have to wait long.
Namir’s muscles bunched together as he launched himself up and forward, pouncing high with his arms extended toward Randolph’s head. He roared mightily as he angled his body down, preparing to bring his full weight down on his opponent’s neck and shoulders. Lightning struck down in the distance in answer to Namir’s roar only before Randolph did.
Before Namir could execute his finishing move, Randolph had already shifted his position and leapt up to meet his adversary in midair. In one fluid motion, Randolph caught Namir’s right arm with his left claw while delivering a right uppercut to the cat’s ribcage, and chomping down on the left side of the base of his neck. Namir shrieked in pain as Randolph expertly twisted in the air to reverse their positions before slamming the young warrior to the ground with his weight pinning him down and his jaws still locked. Randolph was already heavier than Namir, but he now had both of his arms pinned down and a firm hold on his neck. It was clear who the victor was.
The field fell silent until Princess Zariel proclaimed, “This Trial of Champions is not over until one champion has either been executed by the other or has surrendered.”
In answer to her, Randolph released his hold on Namir’s neck and arms and standing to his full height, he backed away slowly, all the while keeping his eyes on his opposition. As he stepped back, Ulric noticed the receding and shedding of his fur and shrinking of his muscle, indicating his reversion back to his human form.
No! Ulric thought, no, he can’t be doing it…
Namir was slowly rising now, obviously just as shocked at what he was witnessing as everyone else, but also clearly content with the situation. The features of shapeshifters usually don’t permit the same expression of emotions as humans, but Ulric could see it all in those yellowed eyes. It was also obvious that Namir was now in intense pain, possibly from the broken ribs he received from Randolph’s strikes, the bite on his neck, and some pain in his back from being slammed to the ground with such force and such a weight as Randolph’s upon him. He could no longer stand to his full height and there was no way he could fight in such a condition with the same speed and ferocity he possessed before. In spite of all of this Namir began to walk forward…
Randolph had already completed his reversion back into his human state and had now stopped in the center of the field, completely naked but standing with dignity, refusing to retrieve his clothing until his trial was done. Randolph did not tense as the cat approached, but seemed to relax. Was he prepared to die or was he simply employing some new tactic?
Namir was stumbling toward Randolph now, more than walking, using one arm to cover his neck wound and the other to hold his ribs. Once Randolph was within arm’s reach, the cat finally stopped his advance and attempted to draw himself to his full height with clear difficulty.
In a clear voice for everyone to hear, Randolph addressed his assailant, saying, “And what do you say champion of Princess Zariel’s pride?”
There was a brief pause, as if Namir was contemplating this, and then he drew his head back and roared high to the skies. As he finished his cry and the last of the dying echoes were drowned out by thunder, rain began to fall and Namir dropped down to his knees, now also beginning to revert to his human form.
Once he’d finished the change and recovered the ability to speak, Namir said aloud for all on the field to hear, “I acknowledge your strength and I surrender to you, Lord Randolph!”
At that all of the lycans threw back their heads and emitted a united howl to the skies, distinct and strong even in their human form. The humans, avians, centaurs, and all other creatures in the surrounding area for miles around would be sure to hear them even through the storm.
The cats also emitted a low mew in unison to acknowledge the loss. The three other young cats who stood with Princess Zariel stepped forward and carefully lifted Namir up to carry him away. Ulric ran forward to stand along with Randolph as Zariel herself walked forward.
“This Trial of Champions is now complete!” Zariel announced. “With Lord Randolph as victor, the cats of our clan will accept your demands.”
“My only demand is for young Ulric to be pardoned for his intrusion and also for both of our clans to continue to share in the peace that the new Nue-Gaea Alliance has created for us,” Randolph said. “There will no longer be any more division of territory or shedding of blood between our clans as of this day.”
Zariel inclined her head and smiled up at Randolph. “So the victorious leader demands, and so it shall be!”
At that moment every cat and lycan shouted in unison. As the combined shout died, it then broke into scattered cheers of Randolph, Zariel and Namir’s names from both sides. Clearly, the leaders already held the respect of their own clans, but they along with the young cat who fought so bravely and accepted his defeat so graciously, had also won the adoration and respect of all who were present.
Within moments the crowd began to break and the lycans and cats began to disperse to the respective hunting grounds and homes. Before the last of the group retired, Zariel smiled brightly at Randolph and said, “Well played, Lord Randolph. You never cease to amaze me. I look forward to seeing what you do for our next conference among the humans and other clans.”
“And I look forward to see you advance further as well, Princess Zariel,” Randolph said, returning her smile.
To Ulric, she said, “Take care of him, young wolf, and learn. I’m sure you’ll be as amazing as him one day.” She added a wink before she turned to follow the rest of the cats.
When Zariel had departed, Ulric looked to Randolph curiously and when their eyes met, they both smiled.
“So you had this planned all along, huh?” Ulric asked. “You never intended to take the victory or Namir’s life at all.”
“That’s right, Ulric.” Randolph said. “The fight was real, but my victory was far greater than if I had simply executed my enemy.”
“As you said before, using adoration and respect over fear,” Ulric said.
“You learn quickly, young one,” Randolph said. “And all others who witnessed this learned the same lesson.”
“I’m sure they did, Randolph,” Ulric said, smiling and looking up in admiration at his pack leader, mentor, and adoptive father.
Ulric was watching the dark clouds amass overhead. “I guess this is what they call the quiet before the storm,” he said aloud to no one in particular.
Randolph, who had seemed to be in a trance, staring off at the woodland at the far end of the plain finally turned to his younger colleague and asked, “What was that, Ulric?”
Ulric turned to look up into the dark eyes of his pack leader and mentor. There was no fear, anger, or regret for what was to come. Randolph’s calm demeanor, even before a dangerous trial or a hardship, had always put Ulric in awe. There was no other like him. Randolph was said to be one of the most respected lycans in all of Nue-Gaea, though not the most feared. Ulric had once asked him why that was and the pack leader simply replied, “Because there are many who choose to use fear as a weapon, but respect and adoration are far more useful to a leader”. Ulric smiled and nodded then, but did not fully understand his meaning.
“It was nothing, Lord Randolph,” Ulric said.
Randolph chuckled at that. It was the first time all day since they left their home in Wolcott, as their land founded by the elder wolves came to be called, that he showed any emotion. Randolph had seemed so focused on the matters at hand that nothing seemed to elicit so much as a gleam in his eye.
“I’ve told you hundreds of times Ulric that there’s no need for you to call me ‘lord’. You’re like my son and just ‘Randolph’ will do.”
“Yeah,” Ulric said, “but today you stand as not only the leader of our pack, but as our champion. Even the cat princess, Zariel, wouldn’t dare to fight you in single combat.”
“We shall see in the next few moments,” Randolph said returning his gaze across the field to the tree line. “They are already here.”
Ulric followed Randolph’s gaze toward the trees. For a few moments he saw nothing. Then the wind blew stronger and he was aware of what Randolph meant before he saw the shadows shifting around the edges of the forest. Randolph had smelled them long before they came into anyone’s sight. Ulric had to wonder how he had let the scent evade him. Had any of the others of their pack smelled the cats as well, or could Randolph’s senses have been far keener than any other wolf around?
Ulric began to become uneasy as he saw the numbers of ailuranthropes, cat shape shifters, now emerging. There must have been at least a hundred of them! It was uncommon for so many to come together in one area. Cats were especially territorial and very independent for the most part. There were few who would group with others of their own kind. But Ulric had heard of the charismatic ailuranthrope princess, Zariel, and how she had assembled the cat-people into large unions for the sake of the Nue-Gaea Alliance.
“May the Allfather smile down on us today,” Ulric said under his breath as the cats strode across the plain toward them.
It was clear which one of them was Princess Zariel. She strode ahead of the others, with a grace that seemed to befit a goddess more than a cat. And her beauty would suit a creature of divinity in Ulric’s mind. She had thick, mousse brown hair, beautiful caramel skin, a slender body, and the most alluring eyes Ulric had ever seen, slightly slanted and glinting as if they were coated with gold. She wore a sleeveless red dress that came to the length of her knee, made of very sheer material from Ulric’s observation, but the closer she got the more he could appreciate it. The other cats, Ulric noted, were dressed in a similar manner, all in their human skins, but wearing light clothing that could be shed easily.
They came prepared in the event that this became a full-on warzone, Ulric thought. They wear clothes that they can remove quickly should they need to transform. I guess we all had the same idea.
The lycans in their company had chosen to wear nothing but the clothing deemed necessary for simple modesty. Ulric believed that the reason for this was really that they had all hoped to be selected to represent the pack in Randolph’s stead, but Ulric knew, as he was sure they all did, that it was not likely. Randolph was not one to second guess.
Princess Zariel stopped several yards short of Randolph and Ulric. The other cats, with the exception of four large ones who remained beside the princess, fell in line, shoulder to shoulder, forming their own semicircle behind their leader. Ulric assumed the four must have been her personal guards, but from what Ulric had heard of her, she was not the type to keep a unit of big, strong men at her side for the sake of security. Zariel was more than efficient enough to deal with any threat imposed on her.
“Hello, Lord Randolph,” Zariel said, flashing a beautiful white smile and inclining her head toward the elder wolf.
“Hello, Princess Zariel,” Randolph said, bowing low but keeping his head up enough to keep his own eyes locked with the cat-woman’s.
“I apologize for the wait, but in the interest of time, we can skip the formalities and get right into our main event.”
“That would be splendid.”
Zariel nodded and took a few steps back. The four cats that flanked her remained in the position.
The winds were now blowing stronger. A rumble of thunder sounded above.
Zariel raised her head and announced, “As the laws of our two clans state, any dispute may be settled in a Trial of Champions. Today, the cat clans under the authority of myself, Princess Zariel, and the wolves of the pack of the noble Lord Randolph will witness a duel in the Trial of Champions to settle a dispute of territory.”
Zariel then looked back to Randolph and gestured toward the four males standing before her now. “Before me are the four who have volunteered to fight and represent us in the trial. Because our side demanded this duel to settle our dispute, we defer the choice of our champion to you, the leader of the opposing clan.”
Randolph simply nodded once.
Ulric tensed and cast a nervous glance toward him. His face had regained that same demeanor that he usually assumed when deliberating over what to eat for breakfast. Ulric couldn’t help but feel concerned.
This whole thing is my fault, Ulric thought. I was the one caught hunting on the ailuran’s territory. Since I was trespassing and I broke our one-hundred-year treaty, I should be doing this.
Before Ulric could open his mouth to tell Randolph he wanted to take responsibility, Randolph’s hand rose up and he pointed forward. “I choose him,” Randolph said, indicating the largest of the four in the line.
The young man selected took a step forward and the other three stepped back to stand beside their princess. The young man, standing alone now, seemed to look all too smug, smirking and staring defiantly across the line of wolves, apparently sizing them all up. He looked to be probably only a few years older than Ulric, but he had the most intense yellow eyes Ulric had ever seen in a young man, so wise, experienced. He was well built and handsome with pale skin and blonde hair that was well-groomed and brushed to one side.
“Very well,” Zariel said. “Namir will be the champion of our cats. And your own champion?”
“Our champion will be myself!” Randolph announced. “As pack leader and guardian of Ulric, who is still very young, I take it upon myself to fight in this Trial on his behalf.”
The lycans remained silent, but it was obvious the cats were disturbed. Low hisses and whispers emitted from the line of cats. Even the smirk on the ailuran Namir’s face faded. Surprisingly, all but Princess Zariel seemed surprised.
“I will allow it!” Zariel said over the whispers of the crowd. “The champions will take their places on the field and we will commence with the duel.”
Ulric knew arguing was futile now. He silently joined the other wolves in the semicircle as Randolph stepped toward the young man, Namir.
The thunder and lightning high above seemed to rumble and flash with Randolph’s movements, emphasizing every step he took forward, as if he were some kind of elemental being creating the disturbance in the atmosphere himself with the slightest gestures. Randolph walked with his head high and the swagger that befitted the lord of the wolves.
Once Randolph and the young cat were only a few paces apart they stopped and gave each other a curt nod of the head before they began to pace around each other. Normally, combatants would do this simply to catch their opponent off guard and potentially strike a blind spot, but apparently this was a part of the Trial as well. This allowed the combatants to properly prepare themselves so there would be no dispute of unfairness from the start.
Even from his position on the field, Ulric could see the transformation of both of the warriors from the first bulge of their arms to the elongation of their jaws with each pass. Both were proceeding to shed their remaining clothes as their bodies changed. Randolph’s steel gray fur appeared to explode from the smooth dark skin on his arms and legs and a thick tail burst forth from his lower back. Namir’s fingers and nails stretched out into talons and his ears grew pointed, his own skin became covered in a thick coat of titian and buttercream fur with black stripes across his back.
Within only a few moments the changes were complete and the now fully transformed warriors stopped their pacing and stood poised in fighting stances, facing each other. Namir retained those same intense yellow eyes, but they seemed to glow with even more ferocity now that they were set in the face of a well-muscled killing machine complete with sharp teeth and claws. Randolph was no pushover either though as everyone already knew before his change. He was still a head taller than his adversary and more heavily muscled, armed with not only claws, but also his keen intellect in addition to his superior senses.
For a few heartbeats as Ulric gazed upon the combatants, time seemed to freeze. The winds fell silent and the thunder ceased with the crackle of lightning. The sounds of the small nocturnal forest creatures also stopped. Neither a wolf nor cat within the immediate area even blinked. And then…
Both Randolph and Namir lunged toward each other simultaneously as if they had exchanged words psychically and agreed that now was the time to get the main event underway. The two fighters clashed swinging claws and snapping with jaws all while avoiding any serious injury. It was natural for lycans and ailurans to aim for the jugular when trying to bring their prey down as quickly as possible, and though neither of them found purchase with their teeth in the initial engagement, there was an exchange of blows with fists and feet. While Namir slashed at Randolph’s torso, the elder wolf managed to smash the cat’s ribs and head with heavy punches.
Once the fighters disengaged each other to catch their second wind, the difference in their battle strength was clear. Namir was obviously a skilled fighter and much faster than the seasoned lycan, landing the most successive blows and gracefully dodging most of Randolph’s attacks. It was Randolph however who had the most fighting experience and power on his side, dealing more fearsome blows that seemed to put the young cat off balance (which most humans claimed was near impossible to do) and countered his attacker’s best moves to use his force against him. The fighters were now pacing around slowly, searching for their next opportunity to strike.
The ranks of lycans and cats on the field were no longer silent now. Since the first attack, howls, cheers, and hisses were casted from both sides of the field. The two clans were being worked into a frenzy now, seeing their allies fight as they were left to stand by idly. But all who looked on knew that this was a fight for honor, not a simple blood brawl. And for that reason they did not jeer the opposing side or call for the execution of the opposing champion, but only cheered and shouted accolades for their own champions.
Ulric could see that Princess Zariel was the only one of her kind who gazed on silently and calm. Her arms were folded over her chest and she was completely composed except for something in her face. Was she…amused?
Namir was now several feet away from Randolph and crouched low on all fours, growling in defiance. Randolph was still standing on two legs, hunched slightly with his arms up and head low, waiting to intercept the next attack. He didn’t have to wait long.
Namir’s muscles bunched together as he launched himself up and forward, pouncing high with his arms extended toward Randolph’s head. He roared mightily as he angled his body down, preparing to bring his full weight down on his opponent’s neck and shoulders. Lightning struck down in the distance in answer to Namir’s roar only before Randolph did.
Before Namir could execute his finishing move, Randolph had already shifted his position and leapt up to meet his adversary in midair. In one fluid motion, Randolph caught Namir’s right arm with his left claw while delivering a right uppercut to the cat’s ribcage, and chomping down on the left side of the base of his neck. Namir shrieked in pain as Randolph expertly twisted in the air to reverse their positions before slamming the young warrior to the ground with his weight pinning him down and his jaws still locked. Randolph was already heavier than Namir, but he now had both of his arms pinned down and a firm hold on his neck. It was clear who the victor was.
The field fell silent until Princess Zariel proclaimed, “This Trial of Champions is not over until one champion has either been executed by the other or has surrendered.”
In answer to her, Randolph released his hold on Namir’s neck and arms and standing to his full height, he backed away slowly, all the while keeping his eyes on his opposition. As he stepped back, Ulric noticed the receding and shedding of his fur and shrinking of his muscle, indicating his reversion back to his human form.
No! Ulric thought, no, he can’t be doing it…
Namir was slowly rising now, obviously just as shocked at what he was witnessing as everyone else, but also clearly content with the situation. The features of shapeshifters usually don’t permit the same expression of emotions as humans, but Ulric could see it all in those yellowed eyes. It was also obvious that Namir was now in intense pain, possibly from the broken ribs he received from Randolph’s strikes, the bite on his neck, and some pain in his back from being slammed to the ground with such force and such a weight as Randolph’s upon him. He could no longer stand to his full height and there was no way he could fight in such a condition with the same speed and ferocity he possessed before. In spite of all of this Namir began to walk forward…
Randolph had already completed his reversion back into his human state and had now stopped in the center of the field, completely naked but standing with dignity, refusing to retrieve his clothing until his trial was done. Randolph did not tense as the cat approached, but seemed to relax. Was he prepared to die or was he simply employing some new tactic?
Namir was stumbling toward Randolph now, more than walking, using one arm to cover his neck wound and the other to hold his ribs. Once Randolph was within arm’s reach, the cat finally stopped his advance and attempted to draw himself to his full height with clear difficulty.
In a clear voice for everyone to hear, Randolph addressed his assailant, saying, “And what do you say champion of Princess Zariel’s pride?”
There was a brief pause, as if Namir was contemplating this, and then he drew his head back and roared high to the skies. As he finished his cry and the last of the dying echoes were drowned out by thunder, rain began to fall and Namir dropped down to his knees, now also beginning to revert to his human form.
Once he’d finished the change and recovered the ability to speak, Namir said aloud for all on the field to hear, “I acknowledge your strength and I surrender to you, Lord Randolph!”
At that all of the lycans threw back their heads and emitted a united howl to the skies, distinct and strong even in their human form. The humans, avians, centaurs, and all other creatures in the surrounding area for miles around would be sure to hear them even through the storm.
The cats also emitted a low mew in unison to acknowledge the loss. The three other young cats who stood with Princess Zariel stepped forward and carefully lifted Namir up to carry him away. Ulric ran forward to stand along with Randolph as Zariel herself walked forward.
“This Trial of Champions is now complete!” Zariel announced. “With Lord Randolph as victor, the cats of our clan will accept your demands.”
“My only demand is for young Ulric to be pardoned for his intrusion and also for both of our clans to continue to share in the peace that the new Nue-Gaea Alliance has created for us,” Randolph said. “There will no longer be any more division of territory or shedding of blood between our clans as of this day.”
Zariel inclined her head and smiled up at Randolph. “So the victorious leader demands, and so it shall be!”
At that moment every cat and lycan shouted in unison. As the combined shout died, it then broke into scattered cheers of Randolph, Zariel and Namir’s names from both sides. Clearly, the leaders already held the respect of their own clans, but they along with the young cat who fought so bravely and accepted his defeat so graciously, had also won the adoration and respect of all who were present.
Within moments the crowd began to break and the lycans and cats began to disperse to the respective hunting grounds and homes. Before the last of the group retired, Zariel smiled brightly at Randolph and said, “Well played, Lord Randolph. You never cease to amaze me. I look forward to seeing what you do for our next conference among the humans and other clans.”
“And I look forward to see you advance further as well, Princess Zariel,” Randolph said, returning her smile.
To Ulric, she said, “Take care of him, young wolf, and learn. I’m sure you’ll be as amazing as him one day.” She added a wink before she turned to follow the rest of the cats.
When Zariel had departed, Ulric looked to Randolph curiously and when their eyes met, they both smiled.
“So you had this planned all along, huh?” Ulric asked. “You never intended to take the victory or Namir’s life at all.”
“That’s right, Ulric.” Randolph said. “The fight was real, but my victory was far greater than if I had simply executed my enemy.”
“As you said before, using adoration and respect over fear,” Ulric said.
“You learn quickly, young one,” Randolph said. “And all others who witnessed this learned the same lesson.”
“I’m sure they did, Randolph,” Ulric said, smiling and looking up in admiration at his pack leader, mentor, and adoptive father.