Red fur raised and lowered along the man's hackles like wheat rolling in the breeze. He stood encased in his plated armor, snarling helm, crimson cape, embroidered vambraces, and cumbersome sword attached to his back, listening to Sapphire lead her flock through a daily prayer. She retold the stories of yore in as great a detail as she would recall what she had for breakfast this morning. Though she had temporarily relinquished control of her forces to her Executor to tend to her daughter, Sapphire never once neglected her spiritual duties. She was their leader in not just peace and war, but faith and worship as well. It was her greatest responsibility to lead the peoples she was granted dominion over in communion with the divine pantheon.
Many times before, Fox had sat through another superstitious regaling of events that certainly never happened, and it only annoyed him then. Now, however, he was but a dirty look away from caving someone's skull in. In her infinite wisdom, Sapphire had left that bastard Zasz alone with her daughter. It made the skin under his fur crawl and his teeth bare under his enclosed helm. He all but begged Sapphire to allow him to stay at her daughter's side, but the Seneschal would not hear of it. Dark rumors concerning the so called, "Knight of the Stars", was the one pastime no one ever seemed to tire of. Outlandish tales of his origins, his alleged misdeeds, his sordid affair with the Seneschal, and one particular rumor that he was not a man but an unholy demon with no love of the Divine, was rapidly making the rounds.
So, there he was, standing beside Sapphire as she led her congregation of almost a hundred men and women in prayer. Being her personal bodyguard, he was exempt from the rituals and traditions so to best safeguard the Seneschal from any would-be attack. A total impossibility in the midst of all her loyal bannermen, but vigilance was always rewarded whereas complacency was punished. Though it had been years since last Sapphire's life was threatened in any meaningful way, Fox was not one take needless risks. He eyed everyone with suspicion, even those practically groveling at her feet as Sapphire recited holy scripture.
Seldom few seemed pleased with his presence and most avoided even looking at him. He struck fear in their hearts; this much was clear. Fox stood taller than any other man in camp and his prosthetics were naturally bulky, further emphasized by his faux-fur sleeves. His fur was unlike that of anyone else's; bright orange and deep red like a dancing flame, and the white undertone was purer than virgin snow. His jade green eyes so wild and powerful they could lash out like a whip at a curious gawker. Though many bore a far more unique color—cerulean, violet, gold, or silver—his emerald gaze was unique and without peer.
And yet, despite all this, the absolute worst thing was he had somehow found his way back home. The first place he had made landfall and established himself upon; where he had once planned to live out the rest of his days. A large swathe of the valley had fallen victim to the invaders and their cruel flame. One side of the river was barren and charred while the other was already starting to surrender to the coming winter. The once lush and vibrant forest had become scarred, saved from total obliteration only because of the graceful winds.
It pained him to see his home as it was, and now there were thousands of invaders making camp here. They drank from his river, they hunted his game, they traipsed his lands, and they hacked down his trees to form defensive emplacements. Were he not under the Seneschal's employ, he would've forcibly evicted every last one of these squatters, then build a ten-foot wall on either pass. Anyone else foolish enough to encroach on his land would be handled in an animalistic way of territory control.
At last the congregation came to a close. Foxes dispersed in every direction, most heading off to the chow line to grab their share of the simmering stews and their daily bread. Some stuck around to thank the Seneschal for her sermon, to which Sapphire graciously thanked in turn. Most of these admirers were noticeably male and their eyes held anything but the holy light Sapphire intended to inspire within. Even some of the women held that sinister glimmer when they approached the Seneschal. Sapphire seemed unaware or perhaps merely unfazed by their leering. Such a thing was common place for a woman as beautiful and voluptuous as her.
"Thank you for the day's sermons, Seneschal," a young and rather pretty vixen said as she neared Sapphire. Her steel-blue fur shimmered in the sunlight, though her armor and clothing hid much of it. She was almost Sapphire's height but not even in her boots could she look Sapphire in the eye without craning her head.
"The pleasure is all mine, young warrior," said Sapphire, embracing the woman as warmly as she would family.
The warrior relished the embrace and fell deeply into it. Her eyes fluttered and her muzzle opened as if in a silent moan. Her nose was twitching erratically; savoring the heavenly scent of the other vixen that smelled of flowers even when on the march. Sapphire released her and asked the vixen for her name.
"My name is Eilonwy Featherfall, Seneschal. Mounted cavalry, second division, left flank," she said, her eyes ever so often sneaking a look over at Fox.
Sapphire took immediate notice of this and smiled. "Does he frighten you, soldier?"
A more prideful woman would have lied, but Eilonwy could not even think to dishonor her Seneschal with a falsehood. She nodded while looking right at Fox as if he might move to strike her for her impudence.
"Oh, my dear. You need not fear him, Eilonwy. He is as loyal to me as any one of my other soldiers. Though I admit, he is quite intimidating," Sapphire beckoned to Fox. "Take off your helm, Champion."
The red fox did as he was told but was sure to roll his eyes before they were visible. Eilonwy gasped at the sight of him, though much of her fear seemed to have been removed as quickly as Fox's helm. Fox's fur was as neatly kept as it was back on Corneria when he was to be put in front of dozens of cameras and broadcasted to billions of eyes around the Lylat. Tribal beads tied into locks of his hair dangled into his face and off the sides of his head. Sapphire took great pride in her Champion, so having him presentable was a high priority.
"Handsome. Gorgeous. Positively radiant, isn't he? Very unlike those cruel rumors swirling around the camp," Sapphire all but whispered, her words clouding the young woman's thoughts. "Be a good lass and give him your paw."
She trembled like a waif as her sword-arm raised. Truly, the poor cavalryman would have much rather charged into a column of spears than be here right now. Yet the man reached out for her hand, taking it in his, and gracing it with the curtesy befitting a noblewoman. A current rushed through her body, tracing along her arm and up to her neck where the fur was softest; every strand of fur standing at attention. Under the steel-blue fur, a warm red could be seen growing along her muzzle and cheeks. Where his lips had graced her paw, a fait wetness and unyielding warmth lingered.
"Knight of the Stars, Fox McCloud," said the red man, his voice amplifying the charge now running all throughout her body.
Sapphire pulled the wide-eyed girl close and whispered into her soft ear fluff. "You see? He's not the monster all that gossip makes him out to be. Fox would even let you play with his tail if you wanted. Or perhaps… you'd rather play with something else?" Sapphire nuzzled the girl, and before her words could sink in, Sapphire shooed the girl away. "Now go on! Back to your post, soldier."
The bewildered warrior wandered off, but not before looking back one last time at Fox and smiling meekly. He did not return the smile, but that did not seem to dissuade her. Sapphire murred to herself and beckoned for Fox to follow her. He stomped behind her, bristling with rage and on the verge of smashing something.
"Something on your mind, Champion?" Sapphire asked him within the inner confines of his mind.
"Was that really necessary? I'm not some whore for you to set up with other women so you can get your sick kicks," Fox thought in return, his personal space being invaded not helping soothe his wroth.
"It was absolutely necessary! Look around you, Fox. Everyone here is in some small way afraid or even downright terrified of you! People saw what you did, that little shrew will undoubtedly scamper off and tell all of her friends about what happened." The Seneschal's quarters came into view and Fox's heart grew lighter for but a moment. "I need you to be more than just a force of destruction, Fox. This conflict will not be over quickly. It may take years before the end; I doubt even half of the people around us will live to see it. They will look to us to guide them through the coming darkness, Fox. If they fear you, if they hate you, how useful of a Champion are you really?"
"Now, now. No need to growl, Fox," Sapphire told him, feeling his aura darken as he brooded over what he knew she had planned for him.
"I thought we had been over this," snarled the man, finding it very difficult to remain cool and collected in the place where his emotions were purest and un-maskable.
Sapphire led Fox through the camp, veering far away from her quarters. "You can't escape it, Fox. You can lie, you can run, and you can hide, but in the end, your destiny will have you stand before it and face judgement."
"I'm not a hero!" barked Fox, forgoing all attempt to remain cordial with the woman. "I'm just a killer with an asking price. Whatever your game is, maybe you should rethink making me more than just a pawn. I'll charge into battle for you, I'll kill your enemies, I'll throw their mangled bodies at your feet until you have a throne to rule upon! Don't do what they did. I am not what you think I am."
They reached the pass where engineers and soldiers fortified their defenses. Many trees had been hacked down to be sharpened and dug into the earth, strangling the already narrow pass into but a trickle. Anyone foolish enough to assail Sapphire's army would be met with a stalwart wall of shields, spears, arrows, fire, and death.
Sapphire chuckled to herself, feeling the point of one of the entrenchments and bringing a spot of blood to her finger. "Trust me, Fox. There is more to you than just a body count. You've been wronged and robbed of everything you've ever loved, and instead of drowning inside a bottle or dying on a toilet with a needle stuck in your arm… you're here. Something inside you yearns to come to life; to become what you were always meant to be. You repress it and pretend like it's dead," Sapphire caught Fox off guard, boring through his eyes and straight into his soul with her sparkling cerulean gems, "but I know you, Fox. I know you better than anyone ever will."
Fox shivered at the thought. There was no denying this; every thought and memory he ever had since he had come to this planet now carried her mark. Even in his dreams he could feel her presence, like watching a once private and personal film but now with an uninvited guest. Sapphire left no rock unturned and no memory unseen. From his earliest memories as a child to his fall from grace and all the vices and sins that he indulged in once his life was left without meaning. She could easier recall a memory of his life better than he could at this point.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you." Fox sighed to himself as Sapphire inspected every aspect of the defenses, even ordering her men to make changes as she saw fit.
"You could never disappoint me, Fox," said Sapphire, moving a brazier for lighting arrows back a few feet herself. "I trust you will do what is right when the time comes, and that's all I ask of you."
Fox grimaced at the strangely comforting words of his handler. All his life he had someone in charge of him, barking orders and running his life for him. Even when he reformed his father's team and assumed command, Corneria, Peppy, and General Pepper all vied to control him. He followed his instincts on and off the battlefield, and it led them all to victory. The cowards always urged caution even though it was obvious there was blood in the water. Even after the war, Pepper and the rest of the government wanted to reforge him from a gleaming sword to a shining trophy.
Yet Sapphire was never like that. She could always find a way to convince him without ever leaving him feeling forced or tricked. It was always of his volition, no matter how reluctant at times.
"Krystal has been alone for some time. We should probably head back and check on her," thought Fox, as Sapphire's inspection drug on longer and longer.
The woman's ears perked and she cast the man a crooked smirk over her shoulder. "What's that I'm sensing from you? Could it be concern for my daughter?" No amount of posturing could save the man; his mind was too vulnerable to the vixen's inquisition. "I've caught you before; thinking about my daughter and all the things you would do to her sweet innocence." Sapphire turned on him, grinning as wickedly as only a vixen can. "Not all the time though. Sometimes there's a little cabin, a roaring fire, and the distinct laughter of my grandchildren. How sweet is that?"
She held him at gunpoint now, his words utterly failing him as he stood bare and red-handed before her. Shame filled his face until it shined with red. His own innermost thoughts and fleeting fantasies put on stage for her scrutiny and entertainment. It was nerve-wracking to always wonder if someone was intruding upon his mental solace, especially when his mind wandered along a vixen's curves with his eyes.
"I'm sorry," said the man, as he didn't know what else to say.
Sapphire's smile dropped off her face. "For what? You've nothing to be ashamed of. We may be a race of telepaths, but we're still allowed our own private thoughts and ambitions. What we have together is not the norm; but the exception. You needn't feel ashamed when you think of me, my daughter, or any other vixen for that matter." The vixen smiled with gleaming white teeth, "Especially when you treat us so sweetly."
Fox couldn't remember the last time he blushed this hard, not even in the academy when… Fara…
The man shook those painful memories away. "The fact that it's even an issue at all is the worst part. Where I'm from, our thoughts are our own. I feel like I have to police what happens in my own mind. How am I to know when someone is rifling around?"
Sapphire massaged his erratic mind until all doubt was extinguished. "I'm sorry, Fox. I should have told you before, but your mind isn't as vulnerable as you think. After everything you've been through, all the trauma and horrible things you've witnessed, your mind has… changed. An iron wall surrounds your thoughts, guarding against others but keeps you caged like a songbird. People can still see your aura, but can look no deeper than that, even if they were to assail you with all their power… unless they find the secret passage."
"What are you talking about? What passage?" Fox blurted out, forgetting to use his thoughts and earned a few looks from the soldiers around him.
Sapphire beckoned for him to follow. "I will tell you on our return."
This puzzled the man though he was quick to shadow her. "Return? Return from where? Have you decided it time to question the prisoner?"
The change in her demeanor was as terrible as a rolling storm and as instantaneous as the lightning within. "Indeed, I have. I have already sent for Podieus and Tungsten. I intend to finally ascertain some information on the threat we are up against. I've grown so tired of worrying over mere speculations."
Despite his gnawing doubts, Fox kept them in reserve. Doubting his fair lady was something he had learned rather quickly to never do. His standing in her elaborate game was as much in question as the rest of the pieces on the board. Who was she playing against? What was her goal? Was he just a pawn or had she bestowed him some degree of importance? Was she even the king issuing the orders? Even though he was her right-hand man, Fox was kept strictly on a need to know basis. A fact that made his fur bristle and hackles raise if he thought about it too long. Orders and superiors never sat well with Fox; his time at the academy s more like a prison sentence.
Within mere moments of her decision, Tungsten, a small retinue of soldiers, and the gilded fox Podieus were upon them. It perplexed Fox how efficient things ran without the aid of technology. With but a whim on her part, Fox had no doubt that she could have her entire army mobilized and ready for battle.
Fox mounted his gondola, a feral looking beast with dark scales of black, green, and blue but also feathers around its neck and tip of the tail. The saddle was leather; oiled and adorned with crimson markings that he knew not the importance or meaning of. His lizard mount huffed with his sudden weight, but its vascular legs and head on high showed the steed's unwavering strength. A small tinge of guilt still lingered in Fox's heart, however, as the last time he rode, he nearly drove it into an early grave. For reasons beyond his knowing, something had taken hold of the man on an instinctual level. Without word or warning, he had abandoned his fair lady and rushed blindly into the night; dragged by an unknown force to a desperate call.
Even when the dark had overtaken him, his path was never lost. Eventually, his mad dash through the night bore fruit, and a distant red glow of a flare was visible. He followed it for hours until finally he reached a small village just as the dawn started to break. He knew not what to expect or how to even explain the desperate flight. No answers seemed present, and what he found was a horrific scene of men and women fighting what could only be described as a nightmare given flesh and form. A smarter man would have fled at the sight of it, and yet Fox charged it on-foot with nothing but a heavy slab of sharpened metal in hand. He remembered feeling both sick with fear for his own mortality, but also the thrilling rush of battle.
Though he was a fighter pilot by trade, he had always excelled in the numerous survival, evasion, resistance and escape training exercises. Fighting with his feet on the ground and in such a barbaric way was a strangely pure experience. At any point, that foul beast could have caught him with its fearsome claws; rending his fur, flesh, and blood from his body. A dangerous dance of metal, claw, and fang that by some divine grace, he'd managed to overcome.
A gondola slowly fell into rank and file with Fox as they made their way down the winding mountain path. Fox was so lost in his own thoughts that he did not even realize he was being addressed at first. When he finally pulled himself from his brooding, he found a rather ratty looking tod that was utterly unrecognizable from the other times he had seen him before. Normally, the young man was well groomed and glimmered like gold in even the faintest light. Yet now, the told looked half alive, gaunt around the eyes, and aggrieved with a sickness that transcended the body and now tainted the mind.
"What" Fox asked, his tone offering no inclination he would be cordial.
Nevertheless, the man seemed undeterred by Fox's abrasive tone. "You were the one that finally took down the fellbeast."
Fox could barely stop himself from groaning in the face of yet another eager fan he had accrued. Were he not already boxed in, he would have put distance between himself and the other tod without even offering a response. Nothing short of telling the young man off would do the trick now, it seemed, as the young man was not willing to let the man's silence kill the conversation.
"I only heard the beast's death throes from afar, though I am told by the others that survived how you leapt into battle without recourse," he recanted even though Fox stared ahead. "That Krystal girl must mean a lot to you to have done something so bravely foolish."
It would have been as simple as telling the little welp to shut his muzzle, and yet, Fox spared the man his vastly superior rank if for nothing else than a strange curiosity now forming in the back of his mind.
"You know, it's strange to find one as brave as you. Instead of running away, you come right to me? What game do you think you're hoping to win?" Fox asked in turn.
A chuckle colder than winter's wind escaped the ragged man. "If you're wondering; no, you're not exactly my type… but I have been known to make exceptions."
Fox made a noise that almost resembled a laugh that he played off as a growl. "You begging for a fisting, boy?"
"Only to the wrist," said the man without missing a beat.
For the first time in as long as Fox could remember, he laughed. It came from the bottom of his stomach and echoed all the way down the pass like a thundering rockslide. Heads turned to find the source, most seemed perturbed by his lack of rectitude. Even Sapphire turned back, though she wore a more bemused look than the sallow faced Executor.
"You're Podieus, right?" Fox asked, genuinely unsure even though he had heard it over a thousand times since that dreaded night. "You look like shit, you know that?"
"Can't look half as bad as I feel. Still better than you though," Podieus snapped back.
The air grew tense around the traveling sortie. For those with nothing better to do than listen in, their tails bristled with the anticipation of inevitable violence. Podieus was playing with fire, and even if the Seneschal's Champion refrained from corporal punishment, he bore enough rank and prowess to ruin the junior tod's life.
"I can fix that if you like," growled the red fox. "Turn my ass and your face into veritable twins, I could."
Podieus chuckled in turn. "And have the Seneschal confuse me for her favorite puppet? No thank you."
Fox raised a finger at the man, "Listen here you little shit!" Yet for all of his anger at Podieus' slight, Fox couldn't help but laugh once more while Podieus joined in his revelry as if they were old friends.
"You're a funny one, Podieus," Fox said, slowing his lizard mount down so that his larger steed would fall into step with Podieus's gelding. "Even after all you've been through."
The muddled-gold fox rolled his shoulders. "It's only going to get worse and I've already lost most everything I care about. So, I'm going to take everything from them I can, and laugh the whole time."
Fox felt a warmth seep into his fur, and when he blinked, he was back on the Great Fox. The Arwings were idling; ready to dispense plasmatic rage and vengeance upon the Venomians. "Hey, Cyberdick! Get your head out of the clouds! We've got bogeys incoming!"
Something itched in the back of Fox's head the longer he and Podieus spoke together; a familiarity that he could not explain. By the time the sortie had reached the bottom of the long and winding path, not even Sapphire would have been able to separate them. Though Tungsten seemed riled and ready to forcibly remove them by force if he had to, he would refrain until his Seneschal bid him to. Though he was many years Fox's senior, his role of Sapphire's Champion gave Fox the same clout as the wizened Executor.
At the end of the winding path a small company of spearmen and archers awaited Sapphire's arrival. Though they would do little to stem the tide of an army's advance, they served a far more important purpose. Minimal defenses had been erected, serving to slow and hinder than to outright stop, allowing for a hasty retreat should an attack be made to free their prize.
"How fares the prisoner?" Sapphire asked from atop her gondola, her long hair billowing in the wind as lively as Fox's cape.
A woman stepped forward that Fox could recognize even at a distance. A sunshine yellow vixen that looked half alive with eyes bloodshot eyes, missing teeth and the few that remained were stained red, ears that mimicked a serrated knife, and a voice that made even Fox's fur stand on end. She was one of the few of Sapphire's elite guard that was able to walk out of that forsaken village. It was she that explained to Sapphire what had happened, as most everyone else was incapacitated in some way. Only when Podieus emerged from the mind healer's den three days later, was her wild story confirmed.
"He hasn't moved since last you left; hasn't ate or slept," she reported grimly. "He keeps staring forward in his cage. Ramsey hasn't ever even said a word."
Sapphire betrayed a small frown but said nothing. She threw her leg back around her gondola, but before her foot even hit the ground, Fox had dismounted and was by her side like a faithful guard dog. He scarcely noticed that he too now had a shadow, but his was smart enough to keep a distance.
"He's not your captain anymore," Sapphire reminded her. "I was very fond of Ramsey and his death hurt me so. Seeing him like this," she broke off.
"He was a good man," concurred the captain with a crestfallen sigh.
"But a poor leader," said Sapphire sharply, her eyes turning to the woman that stood almost a head taller than her. "I expect everything I did of him and more from his replacement, Captain Boudicca."
Boudicca concealed her burst of pride well, but even without telepathy, Fox could tell that the promotion was long awaited. Nevertheless, the terms under which it was received were a trade she wouldn't have made twice.
Rounding on the conglomeration of soldiers, Sapphire barked, "Secure the area. I don't want any interlopers to even chance upon these proceedings," and roused a flurry of action. "Podieus, do you sense any more of the enemy's spies?"
"No, Seneschal. My ortamn are on patrol as we speak," he said, his voice sounding strangely haggard. "If so much as a wayward spirit comes near, we'll know."
His reward was a flick of her tail across his muzzle. The feeling of her soft fur, her heavenly scent hitting his twitching nose, and the appreciation from his beloved Seneschal seemed to revive something within the man. His fur seemed to gain luster, his eyes burned through the fog of malaise, and his stature became once more of that befitting a Vindicator.
Fox and Sapphire approached the iron cage that held their prisoner. Exposed to the elements and lashed at the wrists to the walls, the man was still enough to be mistaken for a statue of a soldier of Kalmun'Ra. Yet when Sapphire's shadow crossed the man, that all changed. In an instant, the man's form aged years in mere seconds. Its eyes sank deep into the vacuous skull behind, its ears withered and laid flay against his head, skin and fur alike pulled back until every last remaining tooth was flashing Sapphire a demented smile.
"Sa… Sa!" it panted, eagerly staring into the Seneschal's eyes.
"It is trying to speak!" Tungsten mouthed aloud, unable to comprehend the disturbing heresy he was bearing witness to.
The creature's head craned until it reached an angle beyond its normal range and snapping sounds were heard. "Sa… Saph… Saphire… welcome."
She didn't even flinch, not even as every other man and woman present recoiled at the grotesque sound the creature had for a voice. A voice akin to carved flesh dragging across stone that crept inside the ears of those that suffered to hear like a spider into its cavern of web and cadavers.
"You seem more talkative this time," she said, looking down her muzzle at her captive. "Are you ready to beg for my mercy or do you wish to test my patience with more of your games?"
The creature lurched forward until the ropes went taught around its wrists and its shoulders crackled out of socket. Its eyes bore into Sapphire with all the hatred a half-decomposed skull could offer.
"Oh…" it said, almost as if it were in pain until it laughed. "Games. Games!"
Thunder rang out and the creature recoiled in pain; shrieking as if its flesh were set ablaze by a flame as wroth as the sun.
"As you can see, it is already at its end!" said Sapphire, her voice booming across the land and off into the darkening horizon. "You will give me answers and your reward will be a swift end! Deny me what I want and the bottomless pits of Neraxus will be a most welcome reprieve from my wrath."
The creature lashed about, its desecrated Kalmun'Ra armor shook and jingled as piece by piece it fell away from the decrepit form. Then, as suddenly as its agony began, it halted, and once more it lurched forward at Sapphire. Only this time, no malice was to be found in the milky white eyes buried so deep down in their sockets
"I will… I will play… g-games," it said and cackled once more. "B-But… not… not with… Sapphire. With. With. With. With. With."
It repeated itself over and over until Sapphire grew impatient once more. Shutting her eyes, Sapphire unleashed a fury that would have driven any being mad with pain. Yet not even so much as a whimper or a flinch interrupted its chant. Sapphire opened her eyes, shocked to see she had accomplished so little.
"We're done here," she scowled. "Captain, double the watch and maintain the utmost vigilance. Reinforcements will be sent down as a precaution. If this thing wishes to try my patience, lets see what another week will do to its resolve."
"Krystal."
Sapphire froze in her tracks. Her fur was bristling by the time her neck craned back towards the creature.
"I… I will… play… games," it repeated, its vocal cords slowly rotting away until the illusion was broken and no longer did the puppet even try to match the words of the master. Now, the master could speak freely with a voice so wicked and cruel that the clouds above seemed to darken and the grass around him withered. "I long to play games with her. I will play with her body until it drives her to madness. A hundred tendrils of my being will penetrate her body and mind, then a thousand will erupt from her tattered remains, rebirthing me in the all my glory." The dissolving husk tilted its head and its jaw attempted to pull a smirk with what little remained of its face. "And when her soul tries to escape; I will play with that as well."
Fear held no meaning to the woman any longer. She held her staff at the ready and declared, "If you so much as befoul her sight with your presence, I will flay your very being from existence!"
"You cannot stop us," said the husk, decomposing faster and faster until entire hunks of fur and flesh fell away. It landed with a wet squelching sound before writhing like worms in agony. "We are one breath. We are the sun becoming whole. The Tal'Helumfal walk under the stars of our Lord. We will not stop; we will not rest until He is made whole once more! You and your false gods will suffer for their impudence. We are what was and will be again."
Sapphire scoffed, "I've never heard something so ridiculous! The Tal'Helumfal are a fairy tale. If you really want that on the headstone of the mass grave that I will bury you and all of your conspirators in, so be it."
Again, the puppet lurched forward, but the flesh and sinew that still tethered its arms together was snapped. Slamming against the heavy iron bars, the dismembered husk snarled like a caged beast.
"We are the Lord's chosen! We are the rightful rulers of this world and a million others! Your heretical kind will be the fruits we nourish ourselves upon before turning our eyes above!" It turned its rotted eyes towards Fox, and cackled. "Your father is here with us, boy. Oh, how he longs to see you again. His were of the hands that tried to bring you into the fold, Podieus."
Behind the Champion, the gilded fox drew his mace. His wrath would not be satiated until the husk's bones were ground into dust. Nothing short of a violent suppression could hope to stop him.
"Podieus," said Sapphire calmly, stopping the man in his tracks. Turning her attention back to the prisoner, Sapphire asked, "The legends say that the Tal'Helumfal were all killed; their flesh and bones were used to create the nightmarescape of Neraxus. If you truly are what you claim to be, then you know how this will play out. You've started a Holy War, demon. All of Cerinia will unite in a crusade against you! We will not have peace until the last of your kind hangs from the gallows or smolders into ash on the battlefield!"
What remained of the husk's face had fully decomposed, leaving only a bloodied skull to speak. "Bring all the meat you can. Our hunger has grown ravenous this past millennia. The taste of your kind was always a favorite among the broods."
"How many of you are there?" Sapphire asked, her grip tightening so severely that the leather wrapping groaned.
Though no lips yet remained to curl into a smile, the way the corpse held its head was enough to convey a sinister smile. "How many stars can you count in the night sky?"
Sapphire didn't waver in the slightest. "Then I shall start the purge here. The deal has changed, demon. I will have my answers but so too will I have your screams," said Sapphire, aligning the red gem cresting her staff with the corpse's head.
Yet Sapphire never got the chance. No sooner had she made her proclamation than did the creature let out a blood curdling scream. It rattled the hearts and souls of all those that heard it. So devastating was the cry, that the iron cage rattled and warped until the gaps widened. Fox was the first to react, and his sword was in hand just as the creature slipped through. He leapt in-between Sapphire and the creature, his black blade already in motion. Yet for as quick as the tod was, quicker was the creature, as it easily ducked under his attack. Fox moved for a second attack, but in his haste to protect Sapphire, his form failed and his defense was non-existent.
The shell of a man leapt at Fox with outstretched claws. It tore after his heart, intent on claiming it even through the heavy metal and ribcage. So powerful was the creature, that its boned fingers left claw marks in the face of his polished armor. Thankfully, it proved too much for the creature, but there proved to be flesh more vulnerable. In a move as quick as an adder's strike, the creature went for Fox's sword arm, sinking teeth and claw into the exposed fur. Fox let out a yelp as sensors gave off a simulated feeling of immense pain. On instinct, Fox grabbed the beast by the back of its throat and threw it as far away as his augmented body could allow.
Fur ripped from Fox's arm and the creature flew through the air. It twisted and flailed, trying to regain its bearings in time, but the cold hard earth found it first. For an instant, Fox chanced a glance at his fair lady. She was uninjured, but the creature's attack had greatly affected her. Her eyes were vacant and her lips were moving in a frantic, silent prayer. Fox's heart seized and he gave the order.
"Kill it!"
No sooner had he given the decree was there an attempt to belay it. "No! The Seneschal wants it alive-"
A sickening crunch ended the creature's wailing and another ceased its twitching. This did not satisfy the headsman, and he did not relent until most of the creature was a broken, twisted, shattered remain. The sound of the body being desecrated further, reverberated in Fox's ears as he aided his fair lady to her feet.
"Are you alright, Sapphire?" he asked, holding her entire weight with one arm.
The vixen seemed lost as her eyes drifted around lazily. Indeed, most of Sapphire's guard were in such a state, still rolling about on the ground. Fox wondered if he were somehow immune or if it were a mere fluke that he was not equally as affected. Podieus and the old man were already back on their feet, with the former executing his duty with exceptional ferocity. Fox watched him for a moment, entranced by the rage and unrelenting assault, even after it was apparent the beast was dead. A thought stirred within Fox that he kept buried for the time being.
"I'm… fine, " Sapphire said at last, reassuming control of herself and standing on her own strength.
"What was that thing? What are the Tal'Helumfal?" Fox asked her, shadowing her close in case her strength might suddenly fail her.
Her presence entered his mind but it did not carry the same gravitas it usually flaunted. Her being trembled when it entered his; shaking like prey cornered by a sadistic predator. However, within moments of refuge in his domain, her confidence started to return.
"When Cerinia was young and before the greater pantheon had refined their shared creation, a primordial evil emerged. Where they came from was lost to the ages, but the stories of their barbarity and cruelty were not. Were it not for the interference of the divine, it would be they who inherited Cerinia, not us," Sapphire explained, mounting her gondola with aid from her Champion. "I'll explain further when we're back in camp. I must see Zasz at once."
"Captain!" barked the Seneschal so all may hear her. "Our presence here is no longer required. Pack up and return to the valley. Be back by nightfall or I'll find someone else who can take Ramsay's stead!"
Sapphire needn't add threat to her orders, but it certainly did not hinder the operation. Even as Sapphire and her guard were all mounted and ready to leave, the camp was rapidly disappearing. Captain Boudicca had her soldiers working with the expedience a freshly promoted officer would kill to have.
"Tungsten!" Sapphire called when she noticed that two of her guard were unmounted.
"I will be along shortly, Seneschal," said the gray man. "I would have a word with Podieus."
Fox's grip tightened on the leather reigns of his steed. He knew what that meant; that tone was one he was all too familiar with back in his academy days. He'd lost count of all the instructors that drilled into him over the years. Having never been one to follow orders as nice and neatly as was expected, coupled with the fact that he downed more than half of the instructors in his first year, he had made a lot of enemies. All it took was one skivvy to be out of place on inspection day or an eyeroll at an instructor for half the staff to be on his case.
Undoubtedly, Podieus was about to be reprimanded most severely for disregarding the old man's orders. For some reason, it brought the man's hackles to a rise and his teeth to a grit. Did the old man think himself so superior and so infallible that his pride needed recompense for being ignored when he was so clearly in the wrong? Just another has-been past his prime trying to cling to relevancy.
"Seneschal, a word if I may," Fox began as they started up the mountain.
"What is it?" Sapphire asked curtly, clearly annoyed having her contemplation interrupted.
"Remember when you told me when you anointed me your Champion, that I was to form a holy order?" Fox asked.
"What of it?"
Fox smiled despite the abrasive tone. "I think I have an idea on who to make my first initiate."
~X~X~X~X~X~X~
Cold water seeped into the ocean blue fur and froze the sensitive skin beneath. The sun no longer held the strength of summer and dead leaves were already falling into the tranquil lake. Krystal yipped when the water kissed her nether region; her fur from the waist up stood at attention, roughly doubling her size. Shivering even more now, the vixen stepped further into the water until it lapped at her breasts. Deciding that was far enough, she held her nose shut and ducked down. She rose back out of the water, dripping and brushing the wet hair from her eyes. Though her teeth chattered and her body trembled, she felt so much better for it.
In her free hand she held a ball of scented soap, pilfered from a chest in her mother's tent. Though the shame of taking it without permission was colder upon her conscious than the water on her body, the dire need to be cleansed was overwhelming. Not only did her body feel fouled with grime and mire, something inside her felt putrid; defiled in some way that was impossible for her to describe. It was as if the foulness that covered her body had seeped through fur and skin, all the way through her muscles and rooted deep inside her marrow.
Nevertheless, once the scented soap was wetted and began to scour across the vixen's curves, she felt immeasurably better.
She ran it all across her form, marveling at the bubbles it formed and the heavy scent of wildflowers. It was a smell she oft found her mother wearing, and it filled her heart with the hope of a warm and even longer summer next year. Such a thing as a scented soap was a luxury the daughter of a potter could never afford. Regular soaps were relatively cheap by comparison so she did not grow up dirty and ragged, but neither did she smell as lovely as the rich girls in the village. None of the boys eagerly buried their muzzles in her fur, telling her she smelled as beautiful as she looked. Indeed, most boys gave her a wide berth even if their eyes covered her. He had seen to it that she was never courted, having lain claim to her and driving off any boy that was foolish enough to encroach on her territory.
Yet, the vixen could not be mad at him; at least not anymore. Though rough around the edges, Arden truly cared for her in his own way. He protected her more fiercely than he could his own life. Thrice already he had stood between her and certain death.
Visions of his battered body filled her mind. From the moment her eyes opened, she sought him out, paying no mind to the old man pleading for her to return to bed. Only when Krystal promised him she would do as he asked once she'd seen Arden, did the old man assist her. Though he still yet lived, it would be several weeks before he would awaken. Such pain was he in that they kept him subdued with telepathy so that he might slumber through the worst of it. Several broken bones, deep cuts, and gruesome bruises covered his body. Were it not for the exemplary skill of the healers of Kalmun'Ra, Arden would have lived out his life a cripple at best or succumbed to his wounds at worst. Though he would bear many scars, the healers promised he would make a full recovery.
Though she still resented him for all he put her through when they were younger, her heart was no longer ironclad against the black and violet tod. Even Annie's violent end was starting to lose its prominence. Though she still grieved and would miss the old vixen that had taught her everything about being a woman. However, it wasn't intentional, and he struck her in hopes of protecting everyone else. Perhaps in time she would come to forgive him, or perhaps she would carry this bitter resentment with him the rest of her life? Either way, she owed him a debt and gratitude, one that she would repay with every spare hour she had. The moment he would awake, she would be there to do anything she could to make his recovery comfortable.
Such a thought was heartening but daunting at the same time. War was not the grandiose thing that the songs would've had her believe. For almost four generations, the poets and bards recanted epic tales of bravery, valor, and deeds of heroes long since dead and buried. Many a young man and woman dreamt of aspiring to such heights; to earn their place among the greatest of heroes and be forever immortalized in verse. Even Krystal was not immune to the seductive sounds of the clarion call. Yet now, as she stood naked in the lake—lungs still drawing breath and heart still pumping blood unlike the poor souls of Sunhall and the soldiers that fell in battle—she would give anything to be far removed from such an atrocious thing as war.
Her memories were still raw and her dreams had become the stuff of nightmares. Wounds of the body and mind still aggrieved her, but they had been mended while she slept these past few days. Though she knew she ought to be traumatized and still reeling from the horrors she had survived, somehow it all felt like it had become distant by decades. Her aura was tainted from the battle, but the poison had not wormed its way to her heart. With the staff her mother had gifted her, her body count now eclipsed everyone else in the camp. She knew not the full count, and the fires she conjured had left not but dust and slag. It always pained her to take the life of an animal when she hunted for food, so why was she so… apathetic to all the meaningless bloodshed she had partaken in?
Even as she dwelled on this strange indifference, a small presence approached her mind like a weary guest at the door of her home. "Krystal? Are you decent? May I approach?"
A shiver ran down Krystal's spine, but not because of the cold. "I am not, and no, you may not! I'll be done in a moment."
Krystal huffed and severed the connection, expelling him from even the fringes of her aura. The first thing Krystal saw when she had finally opened her eyes was not the loving face of her mother, nor stern gaze of her handsome rescuer. Instead, it was a man older than the dirt he shambled across, who reeked of rot and mold. He hadn't even offered her the curtsey of his name before he was poking and prodding her, filling her ears with invasive questions that were answered scrupulously in her dazed state. It took a while for her to rouse fully, almost as if the slumber that once held her had refused to let go. Nevertheless, his questions only became more and more invasive. Only when his face knew the sting of her hand did he back off.
All enjoyment she was garnering from her bath was now over thanks to the old man's incursion. Never before had she woken up with an avid disdain for someone before, but that gray-mane had set something off inside her. Though their acquaintance was made only today, Krystal felt as if she carried a long-festering wound he had inflicted upon her. Entirely ludicrous, but nonetheless, Krystal felt that if she labored through her memories, his aura and face would return to her from the void, and her wroth for him would be somehow justified.
Now growling softly to herself, Krystal dipped under one last time to rid herself of the remaining suds, then stepped out of the lake. She couldn't get her towel wrapped around her body fast enough. Freezing water cascaded off her body, raining down on the hard earth below. There was no hope of completely drying herself without the aid from a fire, but she did her best to get most of the water out of her pelt with wringing and shaking. Dressing into some fresh clothes Zasz had provided her, Krystal left the lake but not before giving it a final look over her shoulder.
It was here she had found her first reprieve while being chased by those armored brigands from a time that felt distant, only because of how tumultuous the days had been. It was here that she and the red man frolicked and played after so many tense hours of open hostility. It was here that her powers had done something extraordinary. Even to a Cerinian, the mystical powers they were imbibed with from the gods and goddesses were often a mystery. When first she entered the waters, she felt her powers reach such an unprecedented level, that it exploded outwards and created a massive tide along every bank. Even when she engaged the red man in a heated splashing war, something imbued her arm with strength, allowing her to usher forth such a splash that it flushed Fox away and onto the shore like a waterlogged sailor.
Perhaps the lake was merely an amplifying conduit, much like the native crystals that grew out of the earth like a plant? While likely, it seemed strange that a body of water would ever act as a conduit. Never before had she heard of such a thing; only stones, metals, gems, and crystals could be attuned to the telepathic energies. Though outliers existed, those were usually only ever in stories and never proven by a reliable source. Whatever the case may be, this lake held a special significance for the vixen, and though it was cold and uninviting now, she was aggrieved to be removed from the water.
Krystal set out for the nearest campfire, making sure to conceal her aura as best she could to throw Zasz off the trail. It would never have worked if he was actively monitoring her, and she hoped that her ruthless eviction would dissuade him from doing just that. To further shield her, she was adorned in fresh winter clothes; heavy and formidable bulwark from the wind, complete with a hood that shrouded her face in shadow. It was the standard winter garb of a Kalmun'Ra soldier, and when she found a fire to huddle around, she became one of many wearing the exact same garb.
"I swear, we should jump the cooks tonight and shave them bare!" said a soldier, picking out a strand of fur from his evening rations. "If you were to tell me that they swim in their stew and roll on their dough, I'd believe you."
No one at the fire gave the man any words, for his bemoaning had long since worn out its novelty perhaps many days ago. Nevertheless, the man continued his griping as if he had prepared a list.
"We've been marching for weeks now and all the while my lance-arm aches," he went on, rolling his shoulder to further accredit his story. "I'd be much happier if we were in the plains. How can we maneuver in formation with such little room?"
"Same way you always do; poorly and constantly crashing into your neighbor," another soldier growled, eliciting a laugh from some but not all.
The mood was dour, that much was easy for Krystal to see at a glance. Much weighed upon the shoulders of every man and woman of the Sapphire's army. Thoughts of home, dread of the coming winter, the looming threat that had yet to reveal itself cut managed to sack the whole of Sunhall, and perhaps the most prevalent at this very moment was their sacrilege. No matter how much their beloved Seneschal tried to assure them their cause was just, their prolonged squatting in a most holy of lands was a great fear. The gods and goddesses were kind and benevolent, but so too were they wrathful and not above spiting a wayward mortal for their insolence. Entire wars had been won or lost on their favor and lineages uprooted because of a seemingly insignificant affront. What did the divine think of an entire host occupying their sacred valley? Were they really as understanding as Sapphire assured them? Or would the army of Kalmun'Ra face not only their nameless foe, but the gods and goddesses themselves?
"Yes, Velum," a woman said wistfully, her mind clearly elsewhere and not at all concerned with the cares of the spiritual.
The soldier known as Velum snorted. "Are you still dreaming about that freak, Eilonwy?"
The woman's hazel eyes flitted dreamily. "Certainly not. I am dreaming of what his children would look like if I were to bear them for him. If Miluka blesses me, their pelts would be of the same flame their father's wears!"
Velum rolled his eyes while others laughed. Warmth filled Krystal but not from the fire. Something kindled within her that she knew not how to describe, but the longer she listened to the woman prattle on, the fouler the taste became upon her tongue.
"His eyes are greener than the jungles of south and sparkle brighter than the stars," she said, swooning in a way most unbecoming of a soldier. "I felt the strength of his grip when he kissed my hand; he could have crushed my bones into dust but he was as gracious and gentle as a lord in the Emperor's court! Never before has my heart felt as if it had taken flight, only to be nestled safely in his hold."
"Enough about that freak!" Velum scowled. "You've spoke nothing else since your little encounter."
"Says the man who whines like a child with every minor misgiving!" Eilonwy countered, her tone perhaps far harsher than she intended but only grew sharper the more she spoke. "Your company has been a pox since the moment we left Kalmun'Ra. Spare me your pathetic whimpers and don't aggrieve my ears another moment longer! I'd sooner ride headfirst and naked into a phalanx of spears than listen to you whinge another second!"
Velum's ears fell and his fur bristled along the neck but he didn't say another word. Were she still not so waterlogged, Krystal would have fled the dour company that seemed so eager to swipe at each other's throats. Yet the allure of gossip was too strong for the vixen to ignore. It seemed so surprising that Fox would have this effect on a woman. Indeed, he was the most fair and handsome man Krystal could ever remember witnessing, but his imposing size, his foreboding demeanor, and the way his jungle green eyes were capable of piercing and bleeding a man's heart of all its courage, would surely frighten off all but the most foolhardy.
"You say you met with him… the Knight of the Stars?" a curious vixen asked who was clearly an outsider to the cavalry's small clique.
Eilonwy's foul mood dissipated in an instant now that she had fresh ears to recite her story to. "I did," she said, ignoring the scornful look from Velum as he removed himself from the fireside. "The Seneschal bid me to approach him, something I never would have dared without her assurances. He's even taller up close and I could have confused him with a monster while he wore his fanged helm. Yet when he removed it, my heart stumbled and almost forgot to beat again. A man as fair and handsome as him does not belong on the battlefield, for even a scratch on his muzzle would be a travesty!"
Eilonwy's eyes fluttered shut while her mind's eye gazed upon her now most cherished memory. "I thought I might suddenly awaken from a most wonderful dream when he took my hand in his. The warmth of his lips shot through me and I… well," Eilonwy trailed off but the other vixens pressed her while the few men listened intently. "Well," Eilonwy said, her face burning as brightly as it had when Fox kissed her, "if the Knight of Stars can get me wet with just a kiss on my paw, I quiver to think what he could get me to do with just a finger."
The fire was beset with laughter that drowned out Krystal's growl. It aggrieved her they spoke so openly and carelessly about him. In the short time she had come to know the man, Fox had proven himself a gentle and wayward soul as well as a warrior worthy of respect. Only when threatened did he lash out in anger, but even when he held her in his power, removed from all that would hear her scream or grant her aid, he was far kinder than she deserved. Save only Sapphire, Krystal knew the man best.
"I'd imagine the Seneschal anointed him for his sword," said another vixen. "A man that size surely has a cock that even the Seneschal can't tame."
"A disciple of Miluka can bring any man to heel," Eilonwy remarked.
"I doubt even Miluka would walk straight with him riding her," another soldier said, his voice humored and
Krystal was sick with rage at the brazen afront these miscreants were inflicting upon her mother's honor. Sapphire was a great warrior—the holy Seneschal of Kalmun'Ra! These men and women that swore themselves to her service, gossiping about her as if she were a common brothel worker, brought the small vixen's teeth to bare.
"I won't be surprised to see her walking bowlegged and with child in the coming weeks. All that time she spends with him in her tent, it's a wonder she can still stand!"
"He wouldn't be rough with her! He's gentle and kind hearted!" Eilonwy protested, so affronted that any would imply her beloved Fox was capable of inflicting harm.
"Do you jest, Eilonwy? The things I would do to the Seneschal with a cock that size-"
"You would do what?" Krystal snapped, removing her hood to reveal her bristling fur, snarling muzzle, and eyes aflame with a cerulean glow that threatened to light any man or woman's pelt aflame.
The group fell silent seeing the face of their Seneschal so full of fury and wroth. The man Krystal was boring into was rooted in place, his muzzle agape and eyes wider than the shield on his back. Everyone else took flight, yelping with their tails between their legs and scattering in every direction. Krystal put the man on the backheel as she advanced on him. He hadn't made it but a few steps before he tripped and landed with a pained groan. Krystal's fists were balled with rage but she didn't know what to do. Though he spoke so ill of her own mother, he was still a comrade, so the righteous vengeance she longed to bestow upon him with her staff was off the table.
"S-Seneschal! I'm sorry! I didn't mean what I said! I was… wait… you're not-" he said before letting out a loud wail.
His hands reached for his loins and his legs closed tight. Like a dying spider, he curled up into a ball and wailed with pain. Krystal took some satisfaction from his wailing, but merely stomping on his manhood was not enough of a retribution to restore her mother's honor.
"Keep your foul seed far removed from my mother, lest you wish for the satisfaction of my boot once more," Krystal growled.
She stormed off, leaving the man to wallow in his agony. Never before had she felt such indignant rage, the urge to trodden him underfoot until he was a mangled pulp was intoxicating. The tiny shred of her civility that yet remained amidst the storm of vengeance was steering her away from the eye. How dare he? How dare anyone befoul her mother with such disgusting and putrid gossip?
"Masterfully done, Krystal," an all too familiar voice said.
Krystal turned upon the old man, ready to tear his head off. He had but a moment to save himself from the vixen's ire, and luckily for the old man, he was well aware of this.
"Your mother has asked that I bring you back to her quarters. She has returned from her business in the valley below and wishes to see you at once."
She glared at him with her still glimmering eyes, trying to spot the lie. Though he was staring down an oncoming typhoon, Zasz did not waver. Krystal took in a long breath and let as much of her anger out as she could. The vixen responded with a low guttural growl and followed the old man back to her mother's quarters.