The making of an Alpha was always tricky business. The first problem is that every male thinks he ought to be one, and every other male is willing to help prove him wrong. Add this to the fact that the universe is stacked against him - he is born at the wrong time, into the wrong line, out of the wrong woman - and it becomes very hard to imagine how it ever happens. It is no wonder that the Alpha of any pride is celebrated, nor is it at all surprising the number of women who call him husband.
There are some who are born with that glint in their eye - they know from the day they draw their first breath, they drink it in with all the other nourishment they draw from their mother's breast - they know that they are born to be first among their fellows. What is left, then? Only the question of how. How will they become distinguished? What culmination of will and fate will conspire to push these firsts to the fore?
These were the thoughts of the figure lurking in the shadows of Charlemagne Bolivar's court. The lavish extravagance of his court brought these thoughts sharply to the fore. No one quite knew how Charlemagne had achieved his success - he had been the obscure son of a fifth wife by an accountant in the prior Archduke's court. Nevertheless, from the first, he had a flair. People liked him. And he, in turn, liked no one. It was said in his court that his position was sealed when he shot his best friend in a game of Vedran poker. Having bet his friend's life and lost, he settled his debt with a sophisticated flair, and promptly married the widow. The shocking brutality of it had been carried off so well, that no one mourned. This was the depth of treachery that marked Charlemagne - and one would be hard pressed to find his equal.
Watering the lavish gardens, the figure waited expectantly, knowing that soon, a stranger would appear. The figure was not disappointed, as Tyr Anasazi sauntered into the court, making short work of the security figures who crossed his path. The figure smiled. Watching Charlemagne's face the approaching Tyr was a study in how dangerous it was to be close enough to the Archduke to be in his private retinue. Charlemagne never blinked as Tyr advanced, leaving a stream of bodies in his wake. The barrel of a rather large gauss gun pointed straight at Charlemagne, who finally decided to spare his men their inevitable death, with a wave of a beautiful manicured hand.
"Kodiak! That is quite an impressive entrance you've made, albeit a bit messy. Somebody please clean this up! I wouldn't want my guest to think that my standards are slipping."
"I would have a word with you, Archduke Bolivar." The sneer was more than obvious.
"Indeed? Well, you'll understand of course that we can have no words while you are carrying...that."
Throwing the gun forcefully to the ground, Tyr stood towering over the guards who scurried to secure it, immediately pointing it at him. Tyr gave a dismissive glance at the guard, then stretched his hands out, dangerously close to the threatening gun.
Charlemagne nodded. "Right this way, Anasazi. I was planning to dine alone, but I'll welcome your company." With a quick survey of his surroundings, Tyr began to walk toward Charlemagne, the guard following close behind.
In the shadows, the figure bit back a smile. "Very impressive, Tyr Anasazi. Very impressive."
There are some who are born with that glint in their eye - they know from the day they draw their first breath, they drink it in with all the other nourishment they draw from their mother's breast - they know that they are born to be first among their fellows. What is left, then? Only the question of how. How will they become distinguished? What culmination of will and fate will conspire to push these firsts to the fore?
These were the thoughts of the figure lurking in the shadows of Charlemagne Bolivar's court. The lavish extravagance of his court brought these thoughts sharply to the fore. No one quite knew how Charlemagne had achieved his success - he had been the obscure son of a fifth wife by an accountant in the prior Archduke's court. Nevertheless, from the first, he had a flair. People liked him. And he, in turn, liked no one. It was said in his court that his position was sealed when he shot his best friend in a game of Vedran poker. Having bet his friend's life and lost, he settled his debt with a sophisticated flair, and promptly married the widow. The shocking brutality of it had been carried off so well, that no one mourned. This was the depth of treachery that marked Charlemagne - and one would be hard pressed to find his equal.
Watering the lavish gardens, the figure waited expectantly, knowing that soon, a stranger would appear. The figure was not disappointed, as Tyr Anasazi sauntered into the court, making short work of the security figures who crossed his path. The figure smiled. Watching Charlemagne's face the approaching Tyr was a study in how dangerous it was to be close enough to the Archduke to be in his private retinue. Charlemagne never blinked as Tyr advanced, leaving a stream of bodies in his wake. The barrel of a rather large gauss gun pointed straight at Charlemagne, who finally decided to spare his men their inevitable death, with a wave of a beautiful manicured hand.
"Kodiak! That is quite an impressive entrance you've made, albeit a bit messy. Somebody please clean this up! I wouldn't want my guest to think that my standards are slipping."
"I would have a word with you, Archduke Bolivar." The sneer was more than obvious.
"Indeed? Well, you'll understand of course that we can have no words while you are carrying...that."
Throwing the gun forcefully to the ground, Tyr stood towering over the guards who scurried to secure it, immediately pointing it at him. Tyr gave a dismissive glance at the guard, then stretched his hands out, dangerously close to the threatening gun.
Charlemagne nodded. "Right this way, Anasazi. I was planning to dine alone, but I'll welcome your company." With a quick survey of his surroundings, Tyr began to walk toward Charlemagne, the guard following close behind.
In the shadows, the figure bit back a smile. "Very impressive, Tyr Anasazi. Very impressive."