A story of the Apes after their fallout with Malefor.
Betrayed. Malefor had betrayed them. Turned most into walking skeletons for their greed. Now, with Malefor gone, the Apes had no reason to continue fighting. Had no reason to hope that they would rule a new age where they would chose who lives and dies. The Dragons were such oblivious creatures. They could not even fathom what the Apes went through. Every seven years there were sacrifices to their God-Ape sacrifices by the dominant troop. Under Malefor, the sacrifices had stopped, for the Apes believed that they would become something greater in the new age-be able to live carefree like the Dragons-whom they envied. But they were betrayed. The Dark Master had crushed their dreams, and now, the race of Apes had fallen into a nightmare. In truth, they were not sure who was worse: Malefor, or the God of the Damned. The only thing the Apes knew was that tradition is hard to break.
Tiga's heart skipped a beat as he saw his opponent. It was his father. He and his father were being pitted against each other as sacrificial lambs for the mercy of their God.
Tiga looked at his calloused hands, his palms and fingers covered in blood. The blood of his sixteen year old nephew. He could still taste the blood of his kin, the liquid clotting in his throat. Killing that boy was the hardest thing he ever did in his life. He could still see the terror in the boy's eyes as Tiga had pinned him to the ground. He could still feel the cartilage and bones break as he proceeded to pound into the boy's skull, hoping to give him a swift death. Tiga could still hear his cries in pain, the boy screaming as he struggled to shield himself. He still remembered the loud snap of the skull breaking and splitting open. Tiga's own black, course haired knuckles were cracked and bleeding, his nephew's fur matted and slick with his own blood, a large gash in the skull as blood flowed wildly from the wound.
Tiga cried. Tiga sobbed like he did when he was an infant in his mother's arms as he attacked the boy. Every punch and scream in pain only made him sob more. Upon fully realizing what he had done, Tiga had jumped and fled from the body, tripping on the stone slick with blood. Tiga covered his face in shame, sobbing loudly as he rolled around on the floor. He couldn't bare to face his brother in the crowd, watching. He could not bare to face an oblivious mother and say that he had murdered her son. He could not do it. He just could not.
The crowd watched silently, some of the apes collapsing in grief while others screaming in rage over their fallen. Others also watched in pity. Others, however, could not care less. Their family troop was taking no losses. It was only the dominant troop losing their kin.
Tiga didn't know how long he lay there grieving. Time seemed to completely stop. And then time was awakened by a black light. Tiga saw the blackened gleam of an obsidian dagger, the dagger poised as a fang. At first, he refused. Refused to touch the blade stained with generations of his kin. Refused to desecrate his kin's body. But he couldn't break tradition, break ritual.
Tiga didn't watch as he cut open the boy, the blood flowing toward the center of the arena, collecting in a pool. That dagger was made for death. He barely felt it as the blade easily cut through the soft flesh and fur. But he knew he had to release his nephew's soul from his body. Afterwards, his body could return to the earth while his spirit flies in the Heavens with Clorix-like the dragona the apes envied so. Since they could not have wings in life, they should have them in death.
Weakly, Tiga forced himself to stand, his legs wobbly and shaky as he stumbled, tears falling freely once again. Falling to his knees, the ground slick with the blood of all his fallen kin, Tiga started at the thick blood in the depression of the stone. He shook his head, tears mixing into the life fluid. He could not do it. He could not.
Tiga's eyes snapped open and his heart skipped a beat as he heard a shout from the crowd. It was his brother, and his sibling was encouraging him, telling him to continue. Tiga sobbed even more. He could not believe it. Even though he had robbed his brother's son of his life the ape was still supporting him. He needed to finish the ritual for the boy. To allow the boy to live on in him through blood.
Tiga put his hand in the liquid, the blood warm as he cupped the blood in his hands. Tiga slowly raised the blood to his mouth, his tongue licking his lips nervously before he drank the blood from his cupped hands. Tiga forced himself to drink all the blood, the blood spilling down his chin and the sides of his mouth, dripping down his fur.
Tiga could not do that again. Not again. His nephew was the hardest. His nephew was his first kill. He could not imagine killing another. He definitely could not kill his own father even though both their hands were stained with the blood of their kin-their dying troop.
"No. No, Father, no. I cannot. I c..." Tiga broke off, his voice broken as a sob racked his body, a hand moving up to cover his shame. "Father. I killed...I killed..."
"I know, son. So have I." The old ape spoke, scarred, and pain in his voice as he showed his bloodied palms. "The blood of my own brother is on my hands. He lives in me now. As well as in the earth and sky. I was there for his first breath, and I was there for the last. This is the price we pay for future generations. For if we fail, the God of Death will show no mercy and we will be snuffed out like a flame. This is our destiny." The father motioned with his hands, "Malefor just delayed us."
"To die? For our kin to die? There is...already so much death. We have had enough sacrifices have we not? Is not the God of the Damned satisfied?"
"Only until we all lay dead, my son. Not until our bodies return to the soil and our spirits fly free in the Heavens like the dragons. The God of the Damned is the Reaper and shepherds us to the afterlife, but the God of Life allows us to lighten our physical burdens from our spirits, and allows us to fly in His Skies, and we become one with our spirit-all powerful like the serpents. One way or another, the God of Death will come for us. All of us. We are just delaying his beckoning." The old ape broke off to sigh heavily, sadly. "Of all twelve of us...only six are left."
"Only one will live." Tiga replied softly, shaking his head. He could not do it. He could not kill his family. He was not strong enough. "Forgive me, Father. I am not strong...I cannot..."
"Do not cry, son. You have made me proud. You have made your troop proud. No matter who lives or dies, we are one. We live in each other. That is why we are chosen. We are strong. We will endure. And we will ensure a future. Come now, son. Just like we practised when you were a boy. Just like old times." The troop leader smiled sadly, Tiga laughing solenly, large canines showing.
"But we did not fight to the death. One of us will die, Father." Tiga cleared his throat.
"Well then, we can always pretend yes? Now, make me proud son. Show me that you can best your father. Let us see how much you have improved from when you were a boy, waving that stick around like a sword." The father smiled, his eyes shining as tears began to fill his eyes, unsheathing his sword, his sword arm shaking.
"Like old times...fight well, Father. I love you." Tiga cried, tears flowing freely as he wiped them from his cheek, unsheathing his own sword.
"I love you too, son. I always will." The father cried, tears flowing gently down his bearded face, his fur slightly greying.
Tiga waited, both unwilling to make the first move as family members watched, the air tense. Tiga looked off the side, seeing his mate with child turn away, sobbing as his mother comforted her daughter in law. He could not look at them. He saw the sorrow and pain in their faces. He saw it in all of his family members. He knew he would not live to see his child take first breath. He knew that his father would never live to see his now only living grandchild. He would cause both his mother and wife to be widowed and leave his only child fatherless.
Tiga shook his head, he needed to focus. To fight and make his father proud, but he knew both he and his father would hold back.
Tiga took a shaky step forward, his pace slowly quickening as he started to charge, raising his blade half heartedly as his father blocked it, his movements tired. Metal clashed with metal as the speed of the attacks started to increase, Tiga slipping on the bloody floor, noticing his father had stopped in mid attack to wait for him to regain his footing.
Tiga stood up, nodding as he ducked a blow, rolling forward as he heard metal scrape with stone from his father's attack. Tiga went to strike at his father's thighs as he rose, grunting as the metal screeched in protest. Tiga pushed forward, his father falling to the ground, Tiga hearing a crack as the man slammed his head against the ground.
"Father!" Tiga cried, worried as he lowered his sword and held out his hand for his patriarch to take, his father smiling sadly.
"You won, Tiga. Congratulations." His father replied, the ape slightly dazed from his head throbbing.
"No. No, Father. I can never beat you." Tiga whispered, still holding out his hand, realizing his father refused to take it. "Father, please. Please...I cannot..."
"Do not be afraid. I have accepted my fate, as should you, son. This is far better than what Malefor would surely have in store for me."
"Father-"
"I have lived my life to the fullest. Your mother bore me two excellent sons. The best sons a father could ask for."
"You were the best father a son could ever ask for. For both of us."
"Oh, look at you. You should be proud and honored to be a sacrifice. I am. The deaths make us stronger, and brings us closer together. We are bonded in honor, in blood...in sacrifice. Just like our kin before us. I could think of no better way than to have my life end at the hands of my own son."
"Father, no. No, no...I..."
"Hush. Fear not, my child. This shall pass. This is but a fleeting moment. You and I shall meet again. I promise this. Finish it." The father whispered, Tiga sobbing silently, massive sobs beginning to rack his body, his grip on the sword loosening as it fell to the stone ground.
Tiga fell to his knees. His father was crying. Father never cried. Father was a strong, proud warrior that never cried. Yet Father was crying like an infant. Both were crying.
"I...I...oh, no!" Tiga cried to the Heavens, not moving.
"Come on, Tiga! I know it is hard but you must! Do it for Father! Give him the death he so desires with honor!" Tiga's brother yelled from the crowd, Tiga shaking his head.
"No...no, no. I cannot! Brother, I..."
"Listen to me, Tiga. You can do it! I can see the fire in your heart! Harness it, and use it to keep the shadows at bay! He will not come for you because your heart is burning too brightly!"
Tiga clasped his head in his hands, his frantic breathing rocking his body as tears rolled down his cheeks onto the bloodied stone. He did not want to do it...but it was something he must do. To make his father proud.
Tiga shook his head, bending down to pick up his sword, nearly falling over in the process. Numbly, Tiga moved towards his father, the old male smiling as his son's shadow blocked out the sun's rays.
"Forgive me, Father. I'm so sorry." Tiga spoke softly, choking back his sorrow as he raised the sword and plunged the blade into his father's heart.
Tiga pulled back, the Ape now howling in sorrow. He was now sure the race of Apes were doomed. Wether by dragons or themselves, surly they would fall. Perhaps things would have been different if the Apes never sided with Malefor? If only his ancestors knew the suffering it would cause. Now, it seemed that every race wanted the Apes to die. Even the Dragons whom they envied for flight. Would anyone show mercy? True mercy?
Thank you for reading! :)