Beast of Zarall

by E B Rose

  “What are we gonna do?” Lygor whispered.

  BEAST

  Wake up.

  VALNAR

  A gentle knock announced there was someone at the door. Lygor’s jaws clenched. He stood tall and took a deep breath before calling, “Come in.”

  Master Vadithas walked in, followed by Masters Ruzen and Naelar.

  Three purebred slaves, dressed in identical plain shirts and trousers, trailed in after them and lined up near the door. All three were beasts, and they looked similar enough to be related.

  “Your Highness,” Master Naelar said as he closed the door behind him. “Good news! Lord Brocton has agreed to host your coronation at his castle.”

  “What?” Lygor mouthed. He narrowed his eyes and looked from one to the other.

  “We’re having a feast at my manor tonight,” Master Vadithas added. “And he’s coming over to pledge his loyalty to you.”

  “I... I don’t understand,” Lygor uttered. He sought an explanation from Valnar’s face, but the knight looked as confused as he did.

  “What... don’t you understand, Your Highness?” Naeler asked slowly, as if talking to a child.

  Lygor puffed his chest out. “I failed your test,” he said, with a hint of challenge. “Lion of Zarall lost Fire Breath.”

  The masters grinned at each other, as if sharing a joke Lygor couldn’t understand.

  “No, Your Highness,” Naeler said carefully. “A slave lost Fire Breath.”

  BEAST

  He opened his eyes.

  At least he thought he did. There was not much difference between sleep and wakefulness in terms of sight.

  It must have been night time.

  He took a cautious breath and braced himself for the pain. A soft whimper escaped from him, though the pain was still delayed. It was just there, outside the threshold of his conscious mind. Beast couldn’t feel it yet, as if something was blocking the pain out, but only temporarily.

  He took a ragged breath and moaned, but only because his body believed he was hurting. His mind still hadn’t caught up with his injuries. It disturbed him, though he knew he should have been grateful.

  He noticed a patch of light to his right. He moved his head in the direction, and the light moved with him. He blinked and his vision cleared, barely. He was wrong; it wasn’t night. There was just something over his eyes. A bandage, maybe? He was looking through a tiny hole in the bandage.

  Was he in Valnar’s room? He couldn’t tell. He wanted to peel the bandage off, to see properly. But... there was something wrong...

  His fingers were tied together.

  Beast raised his hands in front of his eyes. He was afraid the movement would bring pain, but he was blissfully wrong.

  When he saw his hands through that hole, he gasped again.

  VALNAR

  “What does that mean?” Lygor demanded. “I thought your support was contingent on Lion of Zarall winning your twisted fight.”

  Naelar raised his hands in surrender. “I apologize for the misunderstanding, Your Highness. We only wanted to see if we could trust your slave to succeed.”

  “We think your plan to free Lion of Zarall and use him to stir people up was genius,” Ruzen nodded. “He has such an influence on people. It’s remarkable.”

  “We just weren’t sure if the slave you had was the right one for the task,” Vadithas chimed in. “In terms of fighting capacity and obedience.”

  The room suddenly felt hot. Valnar’s blood rushed to his ears. “You retrained him,” he growled as he took a step towards Vadithas. “To make sure he was obedient enough to be trusted.” He vaguely noticed his nails were digging at his palms.

  Vadithas pursed his lips. “I’m not Twelve’s miracle, Sir Valnar. I would need a lot longer than one night to fix him.”

  “Then why did you wanna spend a night torturing him?” Ink asked. His voice was unusually calm.

  Vadithas rolled his eyes. “I needed to see how broken his mind was. I can confirm it’s beyond repair.”

  “So is his body,” Ruzen added.

  “No,” Lygor shook his head. “My plan won’t work without him.”

  Naelar smiled. “But our plan will.”

  BEAST

  Beast sobbed. He held his breath and pushed himself up on his elbows, making sure his hands didn’t touch the bed. His chest and stomach ached and his skin burnt, but all his pain was muffled. His mind was protected from them. Still, he moved slowly, as to not stir the pain up.

  He sat up and set his legs down the side of the bed. He rested his hands on his lap. They were bandaged thickly. His fingers were trapped under the layers of white cloth. He didn’t feel them.

  He didn’t feel his fingers.

  “No,” Beast whispered his denial. His mind didn’t process any pain. His fingers probably just hurt too much for his head to register.

  His whole head felt heavily bandaged too, except for that small gap near his right eye and another gap at his mouth, to let him breathe. He took his hands to his mouth and pulled at the knot with his teeth. He started unwrapping the bandages on his hands.

  As he went on, his breathing fastened. He closed his eyes and suppressed several sobs. He was shivering.

  The bandages came loose. He could smell the sharp odour of herbal mixtures and ointments. They reminded him of Olira.

  “Please,” Beast whispered, despite knowing pleads were futile. “Please, please, please...”

  VALNAR

  “Lion of Zarall is just a name given to a slave,” Naelar explained. “Slaves don’t own names. They only carry them.”

  Lygor wasn’t speaking. He stared hard at the Master of Chains. His eyes grew large with understanding. He shook his head subtly.

  “Master Vadithas?” Naelar prompted.

  Vadithas walked over to the three purebreds silently waiting by the door. He presented them with a wave of his hand. “These three are amongst the hundred purebred beasts I’ll be pledging for your cause,” he explained with pride. “We’ll arrange the transfer of ownership first thing in the morning and I’ll deliver their Words. The rest of your hundred are at the warehouse down by the docks. All yours.”

  Lygor still didn’t speak. He simply stared at the three slaves. Valnar was just noticing how similar they were in size. They even had the same blonde curly hair and...

  Valnar cleared his throat. He could barely contain his voice from shrieking. “Are you suggesting...?”

  Vadithas bowed his head at Lygor. “Each of these three are remarkable fighters, Your Highness. They are amongst the best beasts money could buy.”

  “That’s insane!” Valnar hissed. He was shaking his head. This couldn’t be right. They couldn’t dare to suggest... Lygor wouldn’t...

  “In fact,” Vadithas continued, ignoring him. He nodded at one of the slaves. “This one is raised by the same breeder as Lion of Zarall. And this one...” He patted the one on the left’s cheek. “This one is fathered by the same male.”

  Valnar felt like he was punched in the guts. For some reason, this affected him more than anything. He gawked at the slave. He could see the resemblance now; the slave was maybe a couple of years younger than Beast. He even had the same grey eyes; except those eyes lacked the defiant spark that Lion of Zarall had in his. Still, Valnar had no doubt he was looking at Beast’s half-brother...

  No, he corrected himself. Purebreds didn’t have family bonds. They didn’t even understand the concept. They were not capable of...

  Fathered by the same male...

  Valnar felt sick. He didn’t have the stomach to talk, let alone argue. Therefore, he was deeply relieved when Lygor rejected the idea.

  “No.”

  Naelar raised his eyebrows. “Your Highness...”

  “I see your point,” Lygor said firmly and for a moment, he looked like that confident, maybe a bit arrogant, cutthroat prince he always was before he met the Domestic Assets Trade Union. “But I won’t use a fake Lion of Zarall.”


  A tangible silence hang in the air between them. Vadithas’s eyebrows were headed towards his scalp. He scratched his chin, looking annoyed. He walked over to the fireplace and prodded the charred remains of the woods with an iron stick. It didn’t do much to resurrect the fire.

  Ruzen took a step forward. His bulky arms were crossed over his chest. “If I may, Your Highness, what makes your slave a special one?”

  Lygor breathed through his nose as he considered the question. “I don’t think you would understand, Master Ruzen.”

  “With all due respect, I’ve seen many beasts come and go in my arenas. They gain fame one day and they meet their fate the next day. Nothing makes one more special than...”

  “Look, Master Ruzen,” Lygor interrupted. He had that edge on his voice that warned he was getting to the end of his patience. “I can’t simply discard my slave and replace him with another. My father presented him at every feast. Public may not understand the difference, but the noble houses know Lion of Zarall’s face well enough to recognize that’s not him.”

  Ruzen grimaced. Vadithas looked up from the fireplace and shared a glance with his colleagues. Valnar knew what that glance was about. His stomach twisted.

  “His face, Your Highness?” Naelar enquired cautiously.

  BEAST

  Beast slid down on the floor on his knees. He still didn’t dare open his eyes.

  When he moved his arms, he didn’t feel the gentle touch of air on his skin. He sobbed.

  “Please,” Beast whispered. “Please, please, god... gods and goddesses. Please, Kiejain, Alunwea...” The names left a foreign, bitter taste on his tongue, but he didn’t care. He was willing to believe in the Twelve Riders with all his heart. He was willing to dedicate the rest of his miserable life to them, if they’d just heard him this once. He took a shallow breath and tried to remember how Valnar prayed.

  “Kiejain, the… the wisest. Alunwea… the most merciful. Please...” He had a lump in his throat. He thought he was crying, but couldn’t feel any tears on his face. “Oh, please. Please, just help me.”

  He squared his shoulders, inhaled, then opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. He looked through the blurry hole that was somehow shifting in front of his right eye.

  His forearms looked like charred stumps. His hands were mangled claws. All his skin was gone. Burnt. Melted. He couldn’t feel his fingers, neither he could move them.

  Don’t touch the helmet, Lygor had warned him before the fight. Beast was now remembering how he’d tried to pull the hot, burning helmet off his head with his hands.

  His hands were gone.

  He whimpered.

  VALNAR

  “No!” Lygor refused again. He shook his head firmly. “I won’t replace him.”

  “Then your plan won’t work,” Vadithas hissed.

  “You’ve got resources, mages.” Lygor spat the last word. “Find someone to heal him.” It sounded like an order.

  “It’s impossible, Your Highness. Even if he could be healed, it’ll take more than three months. He won’t be ready for Twilight of Infinity.”

  “No,” Lygor said stubbornly.

  Valnar turned his head to the side. He thought he’d heard a soft voice outside the room.

  Lygor was continuing his argument. “He’s resilient. He’ll make it...”

  “Have you seen his hands, Your Highness?”

  BEAST

  “No,” Beast sobbed. “No, no, no, no...”

  He took a ragged breath. He buried his face on his forearms.

  “No... no... no...”

  VALNAR

  “I said I won’t discard him!”

  “You don’t have to discard him,” Naelar reasoned. “You can still keep your slave, do whatever you want with him. But we’ll have to use one of these three to pose as Lion of Zarall and fight at Twilight...”

  They all could hear it now. A soft cry, growing louder and louder. It was coming from the adjoining room.

  “No, no, no, no...”

  Valnar was the first one to rush into his bedroom. Lygor was right behind him. He found Beast on the floor, next to the bed. He’d taken the bandages off his burnt hands. Valnar couldn’t contain his grimace, though he’d seen them before. Beast was hugging himself and wailing.

  “Hey,” Valnar said, as he approached him. “Hey, it’s okay...”

  Beast startled. His head was fully bandaged, save for his mouth and his right eye. An eyepatch covered his left eye. Vadithas’s physician had said that the eye would heal, the patch was temporary. His hands were the real tragedy, as the man described.

  “No!” yelled Beast. He tried to crawl away, but his hands didn’t support him and he fell on his back. He crawled on his elbows, shaking his head and screaming no.

  “I’ll get the physician,” mumbled Vadithas.

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Valnar said. He grabbed Beast’s elbow, making sure not to touch the skin where it was burnt. He helped him up. Beast pulled his arm free and staggered away from him. He lost his balance, blindly flailed his arms. He tried to hold on to the table, and knocked everything off, including the medicine jars, a jug of water, and cups. He was yelling his denial, over and over again.

  “He’ll hurt himself,” Ruzen commented.

  “Beast, stop it,” Valnar said firmly. He tried to hold him down, but Beast fought him. Ruzen was right; Beast was panicking and he was going to hurt himself. Valnar moved behind him and wrapped his arms around him.

  Beast tossed his head back hard and almost broke Valnar’s nose. Valnar grunted. He understood why Beast was acting like this. He remembered how scared Beast was when he fell and sprained his ankle while running. He thought he’d broke it. Valnar also remembered Beast’s expression when he witnessed Crawler breaking Jessur’s arm. Any permanent injury that would affect his ability to fight was Beast’s greatest fear. All he knew, all his purpose in life, was to fight.

  And now, he was never going to hold a sword again.

  Beast probably believed they were going to send him to those heathens called Tribesmen, or to one of the slaughterhouses Naelar would be opening soon. But Valnar knew, Lygor would never do that.

  “Padlociatius,” said Lygor.

  Beast’s body went limp in Valnar’s arms. The slave’s sobs and wails were replaced by a sudden silence. Valnar hated that silence.

  Beast almost looked as if he was asleep, except Valnar’s arms were around his chest and he could feel the slave’s rapid, irregular heartbeats.

  “Do you see it now, Your Highness?” Naeler asked. He was standing too close to Lygor, with his hand on the prince’s shoulder, speaking directly to his ear. “He can’t fight for you anymore, but your plan can still work. You can still have your throne back.”

  Everything Naelar told was true; Beast could never win Twilight of Infinity. Disguising another slave as him could work. Lygor was realizing this too. His eyes softened with pity as he looked at Beast’s burnt, battered and helpless body.

  Valnar knew the decision was made.

  “Come, Your Highness,” Naelar guided Lygor back to his room. “We should discuss your coronation. I think Lion of Zarall should make an appearance that day.”

  “Ink,” Valnar said, after Lygor and the Union leaders left. “Get his legs. Help me put him back to bed.”

  Ink didn’t move for long seconds. He was staring at the far corner of the room with that new harsh, cold expression on his face.

  “Ink?”

  Ink’s eyes trailed to Beast. He sighed. He closed the adjoining door behind Lygor and the others, then went on to help Valnar. Beast’s paralysis was fading, but he hadn’t started thrashing yet. Ink grabbed his legs and together they carried the slave to Valnar’s bed.

  “My hands,” Beast sobbed. He followed it with a groan. His breathing became rapid and shallow. “It hurts. It hurts...”

  “I know, I know...” Valnar wanted to comfort him. He put his hand on Beast’s shoulder, but pulled it
back when the slave gasped in pain.

  Vadithas’s physician walked in. He mumbled a complaint about all his medicine and equipment being thrashed, but he shut up after receiving a death stare from Valnar. He salvaged a piece of cloth from the mess and dabbed it in the leftovers of a broken vial. He pressed the damp cloth on Beast’s mouth and nose. The slave’s good eye rolled back in his skull and he passed out.

  The physician wanted to clean up the mess, but Valnar dismissed him. Valnar and Ink stayed in silence, until Ink spoke.

  “I’m returning to Kaldoria.”

  “What?” When Ink didn’t elaborate further, Valnar pressed on. “You can’t! What... what about your honour quest?”

  Ink shook his head. “I took on my quest to gain honour. I thought protecting and accompanying the crown prince of Chinderia would earn me respect.” He nodded towards Beast with his chin. “There’s nothing honourable in what Lygor is agreeing to. I can’t be a part of this.”

  “Ink...” Valnar put his hand on Ink’s arm and felt a rush of frustration when Ink shook it off. “You can’t leave us! Not now!”

  “I should have left when he let them rape him!” Ink’s voice got muffled by the end of that sentence. He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying more.

  “That’s why you can’t leave him. He needs our guidance more than ever.”

  “He won’t take our counsel.”

  “We have to try!”

  Ink shook his head. “I’m leaving. First thing in the morning.”

  What surprised Valnar the most was that he felt more jealous than angry.

  44

  BEAST

  The water was up to Beast’s chin now.

  “It’s all over,” Keder purred. “You are done.”

  Beast stood up on his toes to keep his head above the water. Soft, muddy sand tickled his bare feet.

  “I told you not to trust them. They were never going to give you your freedom.”

  Beast tilted his head up. His eyes drifted to the dark ceiling of the cave. He knew the demon with long arms was there, up in the shadows. It intrigued Beast for reasons he didn’t know.

  “You will never hold a sword again. You’re half blind and ugly as hell. You know what that means, right? You know what happens to damaged slaves like you?”