The Throne of Flame: Chapter Twenty Eight

Clemson was swinging from branch to branch, the flames licking at every string of wood in his wake like he was the very fire himself - and truth be told, neither of his targets were sure which was more dangerous. Julien wasn't entirely in Skipper's grasp at that point, but was instead helping the two of them move more swiftly with his good leg while Skipper had a flipper grasped around his side with a hold of stone. The baobab tree was large, with thick branches winding down the sides, which meant there was plenty of room to run. Unfortunately, it also gave more material for the fire to ignite.

Between the spreading fire and Clemson's rapid shooting, Skipper was internally panicking. The smoke was spread thick in the air, making it hard to both see and breathe. Julien's tree was almost entirely engulfed in flame by then, completely hopeless if one were to want to salvage any of it. Simultaneously, Clemson's sick cackles echoed through the branches, thicker than any smoke could have ever been and causing Skipper's lungs to seize in frantic terror. He wasn't one to be frightened, not even by the most maniacal of enemies, but Clemson… Clemson was not holding back, and his main target just so happened to be the very same man that Skipper fell in love with. They had no offensive strategy - the only option was to run for their lives.

Much lower on the tree, the other group was not in much better of a position; Parker was relentless to knock out his enemies. The unfortunate fact of the matter was that Shortfuse's cannon had fallen to the ground in the commotion, presumably destroyed upon impacting with the jungle floor. This left the North Wind essentially weaponless. Though Classified did have his gun, he had already used all of his ammo on the lobsters in the fight prior. Parker was, in addition, an enemy that couldn't exactly be attacked head-on; all that they could do was act on the defensive, evading his poisonous spurs.

Classified was sure that if he could manage to catch the platypus assassin off guard, he would be able to get the drop on him and defeat him altogether. The issue was surprising him; he was so engulfed in his task of taking them out that it felt near impossible to surprise him. Classified needed more incentive to do so, something that would really push him over the edge. He couldn't quite work up the nerve, no matter how much he prided himself in his courage and strength. All he could do was run, and run fast.

The fact of the matter was that not all were so quick on their feet as Classified had been - or if they were, they'd been unlucky enough to find themselves in Parker's range regardless. In addition to Clover, he had already knocked out Rico, Eva, and Shortfuse - Corporal too had been hit, but because of his body mass, it only made him sluggish as opposed to entirely unconscious. He would soon faint, but was trekking on until he did so, something Classified found honorable. Between the two of them they carried their fainted allies, dodging Parker's relentless attacks with fervor in every leap or step.

It was especially a shame to Classified that Rico had been taken out - while he had pride in his own team (even if he was livid with Eva and Shortfuse at the moment), Rico had an uncanny ability to regurgitate seemingly anything at any given moment. That must have been why Parker singled him out - he knew that Rico was a long-range danger. Private and Kowalski were less of a threat, of course, even if Kowalski seemed to have a personal vendetta against their platypus foe. Classified didn't bother to speculate, but knowing Kowalski, he was sure it had to do with a woman.

"You can't run forever!" Parker shouted, but not in rage, but matter of factly - only to be heard above the roaring flames. "The tree is burning up. You have no chance but to face me!"

Classified snarled at the challenge. Corporal sent him a weary, slightly hazed glance as he clutched Eva and Shortfuse a bit closer to his torso, but he knew that Classified was incredibly fed up with just dodging and not attacking. Private looked up at Classified, and the husky knew, at that moment, that he had to do what the young penguin had done back when the two of them had worked together. He had to take down their enemy, weapons or no. Plan or no. He couldn't let Parker win - he couldn't let Clemson win.

Classified turned suddenly, and if he took Parker at all by surprise, then it didn't show within his stern visage. The leader of the North Wind charged forth and yanked the platypus by the ankles in a fit of recklessness, but fortunately for him, Parker hadn't been expecting that. Holding the now harmless assassin by his legs, Classified sent him what might be considered an even evil smile of his own. Now he had the upper hand, and his general cockiness bled through his persona like the flames that were eating through the wood of the baobab tree.

"Your days of hurting harmless animals are over, Parker the platypus." He near hissed out, and that said, he threw Parker into the nearing fire.

Parker screamed in agony as his flesh was charred by the hot energy, searing through his skin and down to his bones, which splintered open with the sheer heat. He began to thrash sporadically, attempts at escaping the flames being only futile against their sheer power. His screams only increased in intensity before they died down altogether, his etched face of torment whisked away by the all consuming flames of death. The only remains were his bones, which only blackened before they became ash altogether.

Private openly winced, but Kowalski seemed slightly smug as he watched the assassin burnt to a crisp. Classified was sure that the two of them had steeled themselves over to the concept that they would certainly see death at least somewhere throughout the whole endeavor, even if they had assumed it would be Julien and not someone else altogether. Private was still clearly discontented, and mumbled something about how he'd wished it had been him knocked unconscious instead of Rico.

After a moment or so of watching Parker's body dissipate, the four of them looked up, and all came to the collective conclusion that there was no way for Clemson, Skipper, and Julien to possibly still be up there. The fire was too thick, too loud, too overpowering. Certainly even Clemson had to realize that much - he wouldn't win if all three of them died. Classified helped the small penguins to the ground, still clutching Rico and Clover in his grasp.

They had been wrong. Above them, Skipper and Julien were losing their supply of branches to turn to. Skipper decided it was time to stop running altogether, and with a firm glimpse towards Julien, he managed to get his attention. Julien chanced a look at him briefly, expression flashing into something slightly panicked.

"Do you trust me?" Skipper's flipper tensed around Julien's side.

Julien stared back at him for less than a moment, and his answer was honest. "Yes."

With a nod, Skipper scooped Julien up by his legs and tossed him with purpose. Julien caught onto his idea within less than a second and stretched out into a leaping position. His grace was faultless, but his ankle caused him to stumble; he scrambled onto the nearest branch, clawing his way onto his surface and managing to only barely scuff his sprain.

Skipper didn't even give Clemson a chance to recognize what was happening before he curved to the side and surged forth. The red lemur jumped in surprise, only to have Skipper slap the gun from his paws. It clattered against the branch before sliding down the side and into the infinite oblivion that was the drop. Before he got the opportunity to do anything further, Clemson shrieked out in fury and sunk his teeth into Skipper's wing, causing him to lose his balance and slip.

He stumbled, his feet not meant to grasp at the smooth surface of the baobab tree. To his surprise, Clemson caught onto him. It was not out of heroism, though - it was an expression of dominance, and the red lemur smiled sickly. He had to have the last word.

When Classified, Corporal, Kowalski and Private reached ground level, they realized they might have been a bit too hasty and assumptious in their decision. Clemson, Skipper, and Julien were not at ground level. They were no where in sight, even. With a horrified gaze upwards, Classified came to the terrible recognition that Clemson was, in fact, so full of rage that he didn't even care if he himself was surrounded by the deadly heat.

"W-we have to go back up for them!" He heard Private shout in fright, but his objection to the situation was interrupted by an even closer extreme danger.

"Well well well, if it isn't my favorite peng-u-ins…" A nefarious voice slinked from the darkness of the surrounding trees.

Out of the shadows rolled a menacing dolphin, grinning in a vile manner as he brought his segway to a halt a few feet before Classified. His red prosthetic eye glowed like death in the night, bringing a collective gasp among the individuals he encountered. Behind him, the fire began to surge down to the base of the tree, catching onto the grass.

"Dr. Blowhole?!"

Clemson had Skipper by the edge of his wing, the only thing holding him up from what must have been a forty foot drop, dangling above endless flames. He sneered down at the bird whose life he held and his fingers dug into the soft feathers as he chuckled darkly.

"You should give up, Skipper. There's no point, really, there isn't. It's useless to protect that idiot you call a king - and I know why you want to. You think you love him, and that he loves you." His smile spread wider as he pulled up the penguin, only so that he could whisper malevolently. "Well, I'll tell you a secret, Skipper. He doesn't love you. He's never loved a thing in his life but himself."

"How would you know anything about that?" Skipper hissed, the pain pulsing through his flipper when Clemson's claws sunk into the flesh.

His grin faltered into something much more bitter, something personal and almost hurt. "He's done this a million times over, didn't you know that? Don't you know anything about him? Julien loves to make others fall in love with him, it's a fun little game to that brainless imbecile. And trust me - I would know, I used to model myself after him. He used to be my hero, when I was young and naive and still lived on this god-forsaken island, before the poachers came. Back when I was still ignorant, just like everyone else here - I thought the king was the most wonderful guy on the planet. I was only three, and he was six, and I didn't realize, no, I didn't realize at all at the time, that he was the most twisted thing to ever leave a woman's womb. He's a monster, wanting to protect the little pathetic lower class lemurs and not caring that he's ruining the lives of all those on the upside of the chain."

"You're the monster," Skipper snarled out. "All you've done is prove that you don't care who you hurt as long as you get what you want."

Clemson didn't seem at all affected and he lowered Skipper again. "True," he mused. "But that's exactly why you never stood a chance."

Skipper never got the chance to respond, to ease out his final words, before Clemson's fingers released him into the billowing smoke and the oblivion that awaited. His world was collapsing around him, death scraping at his last few moments, and all he could think to do was shout one last word.

"Julien!"

Then, there was nothing.