Warning for potentially triggering imagery; extreme gore, fire, death, PTSD flashbacks.
The Throne of Flame: Chapter Twenty One
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
For awhile, there was only darkness and silence. The water continued to slide down in droplets over the crevices in the cave, as Julien laid on the floor with his leg raised above his head. He had to keep his ankle elevated. He wasn't sure when help would come, or if it ever really would, but just in case, he might as well not let the sprain get any worse. It wouldn't completely heal for the next few months, but if he could put pressure on it within a few days, then he could survive this. He could jump out of the cave, or even attempt to scale the wall if need be, claw his way to survival. He would not let his country fall into the hands of someone he couldn't trust.
He stared at the light filtering in through the mouth of the cave numbly, tired and wet from the moisture of the cave. He had been left alone with his thoughts for too long, something he generally tried to avoid doing. It brought back memories, horrid memories that plagued his dreams enough. Memories that left him crippled with gut wrenching guilt, anger, and overwhelming sadness. Sometimes, he would slip so far into his memories that he would relive the experiences completely, shouting out in horror in his lonesome only to realize that it was the past.
But he allowed his memories to come to him then, let them consume him in their waves of blame. He deserved it, he deserved to carry the burden of pain after having allowed these things to happen, after being tied to the people who had made them happen.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip
Flashes of images went through Julien's head from past decrees. The attempted indri genocide, bodies piled up to ferment in the sandbanks, eyes and mouths still gaping wide in gruesome horror, or burned alive as sacrifices to the Sky Gods in apology for the human existence. The LALA Anti-terrorism Act, which resulted in frisking of innocent lower-class lemurs and the brutal, public execution of all those suspected - by means of skinning. Destroying the desire for equal rights. The Gods' Wrath, where they'd sacrificed the first born children from all lower class families in hopes that it would cure a famine. Their screams, drowned out only by the sounds of their bones cracking as they were pelted with large stones until they died.
The Night of Firestorm, which had been the start of his wounds.
Fossa tearing the grounded lemurs to shreds, mowing down innocent children. The poor lemurs remained on the ground after being told that they were not allowed in the trees, as was reserved only for the upper class. One royal being was left on the ground, helpless. He had been careless enough to play with some of his schoolmates.
The Royal Ringtail Guard came to save him and him alone, leaving the rest to die, their skulls crushed in plain sight and their arms torn off, jaws cracked in half and blood oozing from their eyes as their innards were splayed across the grass.
Infants, new to the world, fresh and pure, impaled by the vicious claws of predator fossa. Their intestines, so small and so delicate, collecting into piles. A mother screamed in horror as her womb was ripped open, left-over pieces of an unborn lemur child splashing onto the crimson grass. His best friend died that day, calling out for him, calling out for his help. Her legs were devoured by the fossa, her femur snapped in half with a blood curdling shriek and an awful, awful crunch. Within moments, she was gone, and her dead eyes stared listlessly at the dark sky above.
And then - fire. Fire, everywhere. An attempt at expunging the fossa, smoking them out of their territory by lighting the grass on fire, keeping the trees surrounded by rocks. After all, what did it matter? Dry season was just around the corner, a fire would be inevitable. The grounded lemurs that weren't already dead - some were severely injured but still hanging on, others were mourning their deceased family members - were burned alive, screaming and howling and shrieking into the night, echoing on into eternity, always ringing in the back of his mind.
The looks on their faces as the last thing they saw was him, safely tucked away into the branches of a tree, watching their demise. His parents, uncaring, only commenting that there would be more trees open for other lemurs to have. That their food shortage would be fixed by this, sharing a laugh as his uncle grinned and expected Julien to do the same.
In the darkness, Julien sobbed.
Meanwhile, Maurice had come to the North Wind's Madagascar safe-house as a willing captive, which infuriated Skipper all the more. How he wished to put Maurice in his place. Maurice should have been terrified, should have felt trapped, but instead he allowed them to do as they pleased without a care in the world. He had already gotten what he wanted, he didn't care about what happened afterwards. It was almost sad, how much his existence had relied on Julien's. In his attempt to kill Julien, he had destroyed himself.
When they'd entered the safe-house, Skipper was surprised to see that Kowalski, Rico, and Private were all there, seated and looking rather solemn. At the computers, Corporal and Eva were conducting what must have been a digital search. Shortfuse bounced over to the entering animals, and took Maurice by his newly-added cuffs in what may very well have been amusement. He pushed him into a large, barred cage in the corner and looked him over, clearly humored about something. Maurice was entirely unimpressed, seeming almost bored.
"Any luck in locating the king?" Classified immediately inquired.
"No sir, but we've managed to track the coordinates of our agent, and it appears they are approaching. I'm sure there is news." Eva responded apathetically.
Skipper sat down at the table with his men, but he made a point to sit as far away as possible from them. They looked horribly dismayed at this, especially when he refused to so much as look at them. Classified nodded at Eva to continue, before he turned to Skipper, and his visage turned sympathetic.
"I hadn't known you'd been on this case, Skipper, but I'm glad you managed to keep the king safe for as long as you could. I only was offered the case because we were given a note that the messenger pigeon was killed." He commented, and his tone was sincere.
Skipper nodded gravely, but his gaze was focused on the far wall.
Taking this as initiative to continue, Classified began to stir up a cup of tea. "Now, from our intel in South Africa, we've been informed that the Mozambique Jackal Embassy has been stewing over the idea of infiltrating Madagascar if the king changes within the year. Because risk has been rising towards the king, and they rather like the changes he's been implementing, they will most certainly attempt to colonize the island, should he be taken out. It's a tricky situation - we've gotten the tip that someone under the name of 'Parker' has been hired to get rid of him, but it could very well have been something to throw us off the tracks."
Skipper would have bet his life on the fact that he'd heard that name before, but he couldn't put his flipper on when or where. Before he could so much as speak up, however, Shortfuse cut in.
"I don't know boss, I think this might be our guy right here." He chuckled as he gestured to Maurice, who was simply sitting in the cage peacefully.
Private began to cry, and Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, and all of North Wind looked at him in alarm. The only one who wasn't surprised, in fact, was Maurice. Private sniveled, wiping his beak, and he looked up at Classified with his big blue eyes. Sincere regret was swimming in their shine as he whimpered.
"We helped," he admit. "Kowalski Rico and me helped Maurice. We th-thought Skipper ordered us to, but we were wrong."
Classified still retained his surprised expression, though with a sense of refinement to it. He glanced over to Skipper, then back to Private, then to Maurice, and then to Private again. "...Oh. I'll admit, I was not expecting that."
"You?" Shortfuse's mouth fell open. "I mean, really?"
Corporal looked like he was about to faint. "No! You are supposed to be cute and cuddly!"
He made a grab for Eva's tablet and promptly shoved it in his mouth. It broke with a crunch between his jaws, to which she blinked up at him in utter shock, her feathers bristling.
"It doesn't matter who did what or why." Maurice cut into the chaos with a cold edge, and immediately all eyes were on him, the room running silent. "What matters is that the king is safe now."
"Safe?!" Skipper snapped, slamming his flippers on the table as he stood up in his seat. "You're trying to starve him to death, you maniac! How is that safe?!"
Maurice looked towards him blandly. "He was going to die whether I did that or not, I just gave him the less painful way, the way that makes sure we'll have his body to pay respects to."
"You're sick!" Skipper snarled out, and just as he launched towards the cage, Classified held him back. Again.
"Hold the dickens," Classified set Skipper down gently, before resting his paws on his hips. "What do you mean that he was going to die either way?"
Maurice stared incredulously. "You don't get it? I only did this because someone else tried to assassinate him first. I was trying to protect him from whatever they might have done - lemur culture isn't very nice... You really think I would try to blow up a sub that we were all on?"
"Your sub blew up?" Shortfuse questioned, before he and Eva exchanged a peculiar glance.
"Sabotage." Skipper growled. "So there's someone else trying to kill him, that you aren't tied to?"
"I'm surprised you caught me before you did them." Maurice added, bleak.
"Two assassins." Classified sounded annoyed. "Well, that figures. It is the talk of the town all over Africa."
Before this, Skipper would have never imagined anyone outside of Madagascar even knowing who King Julien was, let alone having constructed serious opinions of him. Especially dangerous ones.
"Technically, five, if you want to count the penguins." Shortfuse poked in.
Skipper rubbed his forehead as a headache began to form. "Maurice. Do you know anything about who else could have been trying to hurt Julien?"
The lemur shook his head slowly. "It doesn't matter now. The prophecy will be fulfilled - the thirteenth king of the lemurs will die."
Not a moment after he finished his sentence, there was a light tap to the entrance of the safe-house. Immediately, Eva opened it to greet - who else but - Clover.
"Sorry I'm late, I had to make sure the king was where Maurice said he would be." She explained, sounding official yet casual.
"Clover?" Skipper gaped in confusion.
"It is nice to finally meet you in person, agent Clover." Classified greeted her with a nod. "Can you guide us to his location?"
"Clover, what are you doing?!" Maurice was riled up for the first time since he'd kidnapped Julien, jumping forth and clutching the bars of his confinement. "We had an agreement!"
"Yes, well, I was merely acting as a double agent." She responded nonchalantly, though there was some pain in her eyes. "Really, Maurice, did you think you could pull this off with my help? I'm loyal to the king, no matter what."
Skipper's beak split into a grin. So Clover was redeemable! He knew she couldn't have wanted to betray the king. She had a heart of justice, just like Skipper himself. She noticed him and smiled back, faint with confidence.
"You can't do this!" Maurice shouted, growing even more desperate. "You can't, you'll get him killed! He's perfectly safe where he is right now!"
"I'm loyal to the king." She repeated, though this time much more firm.
Maurice looked devastated. "How could you?"
Her expression flickered into something that was a sad sort of resignation. "This is bigger than you or me, Maurice. We're at a pivotal point in society - everything involving King Julien will affect our country for years to come. This isn't about you or your feelings. It's about making sure we don't ruin the future."
Skipper held his breath throughout her speech, not knowing what to think. Classified ignored the whole exchange as Shortfuse and Eva looked at each other and Corporal stopped stress eating. Kowalski, Rico and Private were perplexed by the situation, all exchanging slightly relieved glances.
"Corporal, Shortfuse, you two will stay here and man the fort. Make sure Maurice and the pengwings stay put." Classified ordered, receiving an undignified sputter from Kowalski. He turned to the red lemur. "Agent Clover, lead the way."
"Gladly." She responded.
Maurice's screams of anger faded into the distance as they hurried off. In Skipper's mind, they couldn't get there fast enough.