by Y. M. Roger
“Kahrolasi yeşil-kan çöp!”
Runa’s bellowing howl that had started with first sight of the Keeper grew through Benoni’s all-too-familiar curse until it reverberated through both the plane of absence and the entire Pantheon itself – Chiyoto’s heart reverberating with it amidst the sadness and the pain and the loss of Hamako and her Empress-Heir Anataya along with the despondency of Umiko and her Empress Patu and of Junko and Shizu that followed it.
But a dragoness Empress’ heart – her Runa’s heart – knew not sadness as its cognate’s did. It knew only rage and desired only vengeance – the manifestation of which was now fueled through Runa’s already-simmering anger against Rafal.
And the visions of the distant past now etched in their being mixing with their experiences of the recent past – just an hur or so ago – clearly directed all of the powerful Empress Runa’s acrimony and furor at the name that had caused it.
Caused all of it.
Then and now.
Sadid.
Chiyoto fell to her knees, eyes closed, in distress and anguish – her cries now echoing throughout the Pantheon mixed with the roars of her now enthroned Empress Runa that carried far beyond the walls surrounding them. The painful raucous heralding the birth of a new monarch for all that would acknowledge it.
But whereas Chiyoto cried for what she would never have – for a male that had won her heart but that she had apparently disgusted to the point of ordering her murder – her Runa roared for retribution for the slaughtered mate of an Empress … for recompense for the pain that now seared her Treasure … for the taste of Sadid blood.
No, there was no heartbreak in the cries of the most powerful dragoness ever enthroned – there was only wrath.
A cold, pitiless wrath that could only be sated with the flow of Crimson blood married with the name of Sadid. And Chiyoto fought the powerful and vengeful magic coursing through her body – fought the powerful rage of a dragoness that tried to break free with its need to destroy – fought her beloved Runa whose primary focus had become the destruction of the male who, even though Chiyoto should hate him, still owned a part of her somehow.
A male whose death she knew would mean the death of her.
Because although Chiyoto had tried to accept that Rafal truly did not want her, her heart could not see him hurt.
Could not watch him suffer without a large part, if not all, of her own self dying in the process.
She breathed deeply, fists clenched and teeth bared, as she tried to reason with her Runa – tried to make the dragoness see that she would not allow them to become the darkness which Runa now fought to destroy.
“We will not become them!” – Chiyoto’s body vibrated with the conflict within her – “We may be alone, Runa, but we still love! Do not take that from me – from us! Do not. . .” Chiyoto choked on her own words as she once again remembered his touch, a touch she would never feel again, a touch that had reached her in ways too deep to fathom as the sobs and the despair threatened to overtake her again – “Please Runa” – Chiyoto finally felt the dragoness’ rage begin to subside – “Please beloved” – her pleading now transitioning to true brokenness as Runa calmed with the realization of what her Chiyoto had said, of the true emotional state of her Treasure, her heart – “Please, my uncivilized Empress” – Chiyoto tried so very hard to lighten her plea with their long-standing personal joke and smile, quite unsuccessfully, as she swallowed hard and let her heartsick body fall to Runa’s presence – “Just take us home; there is nothing for us here.”
I have you, my Chiyoto.
And, just as Runa presented to face the fading matriarch, the four gnysues fell fully prostrate at her magnificent and radiant appearance off of which powerful waves of unsettled and still coalescing magic still flowed. Junko’s unbelievably once-again young and beautiful face managed a bright and almost exultant smile as she was slowly being engulfed in a brilliant light.
“Remember, proud Runa, he was always only Chiyoto’s Prince and no one else’s,” the departing Empress crossed her arms over herself in a formal and respectful show of aegis and bowed in homage as she faded from sight, “Rule well, Empress Runa.”
Runa blinked, trying to understand what Junko had meant with her cryptic parting words, but nothing seemed to click at the moment – the elusive meaning would give her something other than the Raksasa himself to contemplate on their journey back. She reached deep inside of herself to comfort her Treasure as she stretched her now fully adorned and intensely hued wings – their iridescence so brilliant that they seemed to possess a life of their own with the color-play along their surfaces. Runa took a deep breath as she stamped her taloned feet a few times for good measure, and subsequently delighted almost mischievously in the gnysues’ hastened exit at her perceived annoyance – their simple unceremonious retreat providing enough levity that the newly-enthroned Empress had to chuffle to herself.
They were hers now – all of Bohreas’ citizens were, she supposed – oddities and annoyances and Raksasas and all.
“At least there will never be any formal ceremonies, yes?” Chiyoto once again tried to smile – tried to find a place for them to begin again.
Runa simply rolled her eyes at her Chiyoto’s quip – not that she would disagree with her Treasure –and shook her glowing mane that seemed to have grown heavier with their enthronement. As a matter of fact, her scales and horns felt weightier as well, a realization which earned yet another chuffle: she had obviously increased in size as well as power.
Empress Runa took one last look around the deserted Blood-Borne Pantheon – the silence and obsolescence there saying more about the state of her Empire than any prophecy or written decree ever could.
Home it is, my Treasure.
Sighing deeply as she visibly cloaked them once again, the mighty dragoness launched herself upward through the mystical ceiling – the magnificent vault carrying her completely through the barrier almost effortlessly as she spread her impressive wings to head for the ICT transit pier.
“Thank you, Runa,” there was a slight pause as Runa felt Chiyoto settle in and try to comfort herself just as she had upon their first departure all those cycles ago, but her cognate was so much more forlorn this time, “For everything.”
Runa simply sighed and did her best to send warmth to her Treasure – knowing now she could never be what Chiyoto truly needed. But the now-reigning Empress vowed as much to herself as to anyone in the heavenly realm that would listen, she would certainly spend the rest of their lives trying to be.
Shadow ambled along the palatial hallway leading to the balcony at the end – it was one of the lechtneu’s favorite exits during his nighttime present times. His ability to scale not only the palace fascia itself but also the columns that adorned the balcony’s ornamental metalwork made the journey to the thickly forested garden much faster than taking any of the interior stair cases. It also limited his encounters with the night guards – and a wariness of true intentions on behalf of any Guard would always weigh somewhat in the back of the lechtneu’s mind. Not that any of the Red Guard’s skilled predators and their cognates had been anything but respectful and, on occasion, quite talkative, it was simply that memories of the past did not seem to fade as he would have liked. Besides the past, however, there was also the fact that, unlike his Yearlan, the lechtneu had always been a very solitary creature.
In fact, Shadow was very content to live life vicariously through his Yearlan’s eyes – quite exciting in its own right given Yearlan’s steward position. But Shadow spent his present time lounging in the tall trees alone – chewing his favorite tuberous-root plants always plentiful under the canopies thereof – contemplating this and that and the other. Or, when the lechtneu was feeling really adventurous, he was also known to search for new and interesting types of insects beneath the loose bark of said trees. This rare activity, Shadow mused as he scaled the last bit
of the column and dropped quite ungracefully on all fours to the ground, mostly amounted to wondrous meals of the abundant blood bugs (as Shadow had affectionately named them because of their deep emerald color). Once in a while, however, it would yield an interesting find which could provide hurs of entertainment for the reclusive lechtneu. Teasing and poking and learning the various reactions of unknown creepy-crawlies could be quite time consuming.
Sniffle. Snort.
But recently, or, more to the point, since the new guard, Teyman Unisha Falcrost, had been assigned to the Somdech’s detail, Shadow had found a new pastime: watching the small flock of hantungs that congregated in the late hurs over the compound wall near the garden.
He had been more than drawn by the scent of Unisha’s altre – so drawn, in fact, that he had asked Yearlan to discover its identification as he dared not look for a predator on the plane of absence for fear of reprisal. And Yearlan had left the encyclopedia open for him in their chambers a few nights ago so that he would have his answer. So excited and interested was Shadow in them that he had searched to find this small group – only four or five – and had been spellbound ever since.
Okay, well, spellbound and quite depressed. Yearlan had been near the Red Guard on many different occasions now, and there had been no indication that Unisha was in the least bit interested in Yearlan.
Of course, Shadow would concede that there was probably no reason that such interest should exist because, although Yearlan had always been very fit and trained himself regularly with both mental and physical workouts, they were certainly much older than the predator female who was so wonderful to look at – almost fantastically so – with an exquisite muscular build befitting the Red Guard predator that she was.
And then, of course, there was the whole matter that Unisha and her Tempt were majestic predator and he and Yearlan were – Shadow paused, lifting his forepaws onto the ledge surrounding the fountain before entering the trees and looked at his soft and meek-looking reflection in the pools there – well, they were definitely not.
Shadow huffed as he pushed off the fountain’s ledge and ambled into the woods – it had never bothered him before that Yearlan had not been attracted to a female because, well, the truth was that Shadow did not actually find many females attractive. Okay, truth be told, Shadow much preferred ogling the males of not only his own species but of others so, the fact that Yearlan had not found a female to claim as a mate did not bother him in the least. Oh, Yearlan had the occasional romp with a female that simply could not keep her hands of his quite attractive male cognate, but Shadow had not even presented in the aftermath to, perhaps, have his own romp with her altre – he never actually had the desire to do so.
Shadow bustled up the tall tree trunk with anticipation – he could already hear the grunting of the hantungs, and he did not want to miss a moment of his observations of the magnificent creatures.
There were only four tonight – as of late, there had been five – and it seemed as though the largest male was missing. As always, Shadow marveled at their strength and ease of motion on those six legs. He could imagine himself tripping constantly over so many limbs – especially with the way his legs tended to almost round outward before landing in a forward step. But the muscular winged hantung predators carried themselves – whether simply walking or sparring as the males in the group often did during these congregations – with an almost intimidating grace that captivated Shadow. On those occasions when a male arrived from above – oh, how magnificent they looked in flight, even here in the dark! – and, Shadow guessed, had some pent up energy to expend, he would take one of the females in such a way that Shadow was in awe. The males were so very dominant in their handling of the feisty females and, yet, even after what Shadow would consider an almost fierce copulation, the males were anything but fierce with the dominated female. In fact, they gentled them into playfulness afterwards, even cleaning them and offering them a portion of the fresh kill with which they usually arrived – even though that last part more often than not made Shadow want to wretch, and he usually covered his eyes so as not to have a really good visual on the eating part.
Momentarily distracted by a trail of blood bugs trailing around the tree trunk that needed his attention, Shadow did not see the actual shadow pass over the tree top once or twice. And he was all but engrossed in his wonderful, self-service meal when he was startled into awareness by a large thud that reverberated along the tree trunk and the foliage above him began to rustle.
Every muscle in the lechtneu’s body tensed as he trepidatiously raised his eyes skyward to see what could have …
The six large, taloned legs that gripped the branch above him made his heart skip a beat, but when the seemingly extra-large, multi-toothed snout lowered through the thinning foliage and the nightglow orange eyes beamed directly at him, Shadow panicked more than he ever had in their entire life.
He began to scale backwards down the massive trunk in record time – his breaths short and shallow – while all he could think of was reaching the ground and finding the door below the balcony.
Or, perhaps, one of the perimeter guards that periodically passed through the gardens – that would be providential.
He chanced a glance up the trunk toward the horrifying hantung above him and noticed it try to lunge for him.
Shadow wailed – the sound more akin to a small river-vessel horn than an actual wail – but it was enough to wake Yearlan from his deep slumber inside.
“Shadow, what …” But Yearlan’s only answer was the physical adrenaline and frightened emotions coursing through his panicked altre.
Shadow made it to the ground and continued his retreat, looking up again just in time to see the terrifying predator take flight, the air filling with its predatoral cry which was a cross between a hiss and a screech.
Shadow knew he could not make it to the door now – he was far too clumsy and slow to cover that distance – but it was only a few more steps to the fountain. Hantungs hated the water – he had read that in the encyclopedia – so he instantly resolved to throw himself into the pool there.
“Shadow, maybe the fountain is not the best idea as you are also not a good swimmer,” Shadow felt Yearlan try to present or at least try to reason, “Perhaps I could …,” but there was far too much fear controlling Shadow for Yearlan to even begin to find a means to push his presence now.
But I do not wish for us to be eaten tonight! I do not want to die, my Yearlan!
Shadow’s response to Yearlan came out as another long wail into the night air as he raised his head to begin his leap into the fountain … just in time for the hantung to land on the fountain ledge right in front of him – its eyes again bathing the lechtneu in their orange-glow iridescence. As the hantung positioned itself and was arranging its wings, it bared its multiple rows of teeth and reached its front two heavily-muscled arms forward just as Shadow would have leapt. It made a series of snorts and hisses that resembled the sounds the other hantungs made in the group with each other.
The noises and the daunting display from the looming predator served to halt Shadow’s actions completely, but his forward momentum carried him headlong into the side of the fountain – the collision knocking him off his feet and momentarily disorienting him. But the feel of the hantungs claws grazing his long, thick fur caused an even higher pitched wail to sound from him as he pushed himself toward the door, only to realize there was no way he could reach the latch or the security lock panel.
I am so sorry for everything, my Yearlan! I love you! Please do not go into the heavenly realm hating me!
Convinced that the deadly animal would be on him shortly, Shadow completely lost all sense of reality and leapt toward the standard-post hanging clothes and began to climb … where? It did not matter as his wailing became continuous now – his claws finding purchase in the pair of pants onto which he had landed and he pulled himself up
the wall.
“I do not hate you, beautiful Shadow, we will get out of …”
But, just as the panicked lechtneu reached for the shirt suspended from the upper set of hooks to pull himself higher, the pants ripped from his sharp rear claws and he fell into a heap onto the floor. In his physical frenzy to right himself and find another means of escape, Shadow turned to find the hantung that was slowly reaching for him again –
Ye-e-e-e-ear-r-r-lan!
– that pained cry ringing outward as one long, mournful death knell from the lechtneu. Finally, Shadow made one last attempt to avoid the horrifying predator’s reach by charging to the side … right into the solid palace facade.
Which, when added to his encounter with the fountain wall just moments before, caused the poor lechtneu to totally black out.
And allow Yearlan into the present.
On his return from yet another survey of the perimeter of the compound, Tempt noticed some movement at the top of one of the trees inside the walls in what was considered the Somdech’s garden area. It was in the same area that, earlier today and yesterday, he had scented Yearlan’s altre that made his body heat with a kind of desire he had never experienced before. Tempt growled in lust as he arrowed his path in that direction.
His Unisha, now sound asleep inside of him, had been taking far too long to approach the steward with their desires, even though she had confessed it was obvious Yearlan felt something for them as well. Tempt did not have those kind of patience – there had never been anything patient or close to polite about him – even though one had to admit he was a gorgeous specimen of a hantung, especially with the reticulation of the blacks and softly muted oranges that matched his orange orbs. A sexual creature by nature, he had always needed to use some of his present time to congregate with other hantungs to satisfy the basal urges that tended to build up inside of him. And, because of his unusual appetite, it was a good thing Tempt was much larger than most – this hantung needed to dominate the strong males to slake his animal lusts. Not that such was a problem – it was actually quite gratifying to his predatoral nature to have those males fight until he subdued them and took his fill – it helped bleed off both his need for violence and domination as well as his desire for sexual pleasure all at once.