Chapter 12

Kiava was hunting as well. Far from his friends and family among the rebels, he too was participating in a hunt, but a hunt of a different sort and kind and ran as Koron and Inti had done. But his prey was no zebra or impala. Nor was he hunting alone. He was moving through the greying plains of the Shadowlands as part of a pack and either side of him he was aware of the presence of other forms. They weren't always visible, but they were always there. He was constantly aware of their presence. It was a peculiar thing, to hunt as pack, to function as a group rather than as an individual, and it was not altogether unpleasant.

Asante was leading the pack of course, as was her right as the daughter of the matriarch. That wasn't unusual. The presence of lions in the pack though, that was new. A thing almost unheard of.

Ahead of them, he could smell their prey, the foe they hunted. Wilddogs. He could taste it on the edge of his tongue, along with a familiar tang of emotion. That was the other odd thing about hunting as pack. When he focused it was almost as though he could see more, sense more than ever before. It was that burst of strength that let a pack of hyenas threaten a lioness and what he relied on now. It wasn't the only thing he could sense. The scent hit him. Powerful, acidic. He knew it right away: the scent of fear. A dash of anger too but fear dominated the emotions that leaks into the air through pheromones that assaulted his senses.

"They aren't far now!"

Suddenly the pack broke away from the main routes they had been following. He moved on instinct alone, moving with the pack. He hadn't picked up on the scent changing direction, but someone in the pack had, and like a single creature it twisted and moved. The prey had shifted attempting to shake their pursuers, but it was no use.

Now he could see them. Another pack of wilddogs. Servants of the Shai'tan. Giving a cry of anger, he forced his body to move faster, pushing it harder, making himself stronger and pounding away at the ground beneath his paws. He would feel sore for it later he knew, but now it gave him another burst of strength! Cries of laughter and anger rippled out around them as they fell upon the prey.

Asante was the fasted, the one furthest up front and she struck first, leaping forwards, and snapping tightly around the rear legs of the slowest of their prey. There was no inelegant snapping or yammering. She dived once, leaping like an arrow and the latching on tight to an exposed extremity in a single bound. That was why she was Pack-Leader.

Kiava followed suit, striking not with his jaws as a hyena might, but with his claws, using their hooked ends to drag his opponent down to the ground. He clawed at the nearest wilddog, which gave guttural shout of pain and snapped at him. Both Asante and Kiava carved into their prey, spilling blood into the air. Kiava growled, his jaws slammed forwards latching into the prey's flank, crushing and slicing a huge fillet of flesh from its side. Then the bleeding began in earnest and it filled his gullet with a familiar metallic tang and with a warm flow of viscous liquid, like syrup. With a growl he let go and he had moved on once more, letting the wilddog fall to the ground. He was moving without thinking. As Sarafina had told him, he didn't have time to think. Just to act. He barely had conscious thought, it was like muscle memory.

Under the brutal attack, the wilddogs were beginning to falter and all but given up the chase. The persuit had turned to a fight and for once, it was Kiava and his allies who were in pursuit. The realness of the situation slammed into Kiava, and the thrill he had felt left him at once. The chase was over. The hunt was done. Now came the fight.

And the feeling of oneness he had had felt with the pack was gone and he was no longer a part of it. He was Kiava. A single lion. He growled as loudly as he could and several of the dogs answered his shout, running towards him, thinking him a softer target. Their teeth were bared, claws showing and voices howling, and rushing to meet his charge head on with equal speed and force. The first dog met him at full pelt and had been aiming to dash past him and bite into him at the spine. He dodged, twisting. He let his rear limbs catch up with his front and slide ahead of him and racked at the unfortunate dog's face, cutting deep, and spilling more blood high into the air, shining scarlet. Kiava bit forwards again, into his foes unprotected neck and his jaw tightened around the creature's throat. He began jerking his head sharply. It should have snapped its neck instantly, giving it a painless and quick death. But he was young, and it was to his foe's detriment here. His youthful teeth slashed into his throat and instead of snapping cleanly he was left to flail on the ground as it collapsed, chocking, wheezing, drowning in its own viscera.

Kiava had already moved on, paying no mind to the sloppy kill. The dog would either bleed out, or drown on its own blood. He couldn't spare another thought on it today. Another dog was attacking him without hesitation and was even now leaping towards him, striking with his claws. Kiava danced out of the way, but lancing pain seared his back and he bucked and growl as someone somewhere called his name.

"Kiava!" He heard someone call his name. He had lost sight of the rest of the battle and as soon as he had turned his back, another dog had homed in on the exposed area, slashing and biting at his back with such terrible ferocity, it threatened to overwhelm him.

"Kiava!" It was Zuri, shouting in fear, hearing his cry of pain, and was panicked by it. Zuri. That was right. Zuri was there. He couldn't let her be distracted by his predicament; she had her own battles. He turned around to the dog on his back and slammed into it with his bleeding shoulder. It hurt him, sending more gasps of pain through him, but it stunned the dog long enough for him fight off a surprise blow from another dog, and divert his attention a moment more before it had recovered. He had coiled, muscled tightening. Then the tension was released as Kiava span, and struck. With a shout, his claws became scythes, his teeth blades and the wilddog he was fighting, being used to fighting other canines, was no match. Sarafina had taught him well and he would use every trick, every tactic, every weapon, and every skill he possess now. And the two dogs, died.

He winced, catching his breath. Asante thundered past him, and there was a terrible flash of light in her eyes. She used her gifts sparingly, sending panic and terror through the wilddogs. Blood leaked slowly from a dozen wounds he couldn't remember taking, but the blood that was on his claws was not his own. It dripped to the dust on the ground, sending spots of dark colour into the grey wasteland.

He caught sight of Zuri again. She was moving like lightning and as if trying to outdo him, was taking on three dogs at once. It took his breath away. He fought well, but she moved with grace and elegance he lacked that stood in stark contrast to the brutal way of the fighting the hyenas relied upon. Each blow, each bite and snap and gouge she made was delivered with deadly accuracy and precision. He was taken aback for a moment as she moved and clawed out the gut of one dog, and bit the throat of another mere moments later in what looked like a single movement. The third dog turned tail and ran at seeing such ferocity. She fought like a lioness.

In another time or place, it might have repelled him to witness such bloodshed at his age. But that age had been snatched away from him the day his parents had been murdered and what might have once disturbed him, or at the very least unnerved him, instead impressed him. He was left to wonder at her skill and speed and one day hope to match it.

It still made him angry to Sarafina had treated her (even though he now knew it to have a ruse), especially seeing her fight. Sarafina had treated him as the only one of importance, and derided and mocked her for her attempts at fighting. But it was clear now, as it was then, that though he was a skilled fighter she was, and remained the real warrior. The better hunter and it wasn't even close. Sarafina's blindness, though feigned offended him beyond measure, but it was clear that the unfair treatment had only driven her to greater effort. If he were to best her, as Sarafina thought he could, it would only be by virtue of his larger bulk or strength. In an even fight, it was no contest.

Zuri turned to him, smiling with relief to see him alive and relatively unhurt. She made her way over to him, even as another of the depraved creatures leapt at him from out of some crevice or shadow. But they were coming slower and weaker now. The wilddogs were exhausted, demoralised, and in fewer in numbers, and he swatted it out of the air. The dog that attacked him was held at bay for a moment, before Zuri was on him, wrestling it to the ground, pinning it there. Kiava saw an opening. He struck once, twice and on the third time another dog's life was snuffed out like flame in a breeze.

The two lions each stood there panting, side by side, blood and sweat mingling in the sticky heat. It stung his eyes but when he rubbed his paw across his dark fringe of black fur, he only succeeded in staining his mane further. The adrenaline was leaving him now and he could form more complex thoughts.

Nearby Asante was surveying the last of the wilddog fighters who still fought without surrender. There were not many left, and they had tried to flee until fighting became the only the option. Two of them leapt directly at her and this time she didn't even respond with a growl or bark. Her eyes flashed white only once and with a thunderclap a pulse of force ripped through them, blasting them away from her, into the air, where they crashed into the ground and did not rise again.

Kiava gave a smile. He hadn't encouraged her to use her powers in battle. They exhausted her and it would not do to collapse on the ground in the middle of conflict. Especially, if they needed to fight again in a single day. But even so, it was something to see her unleash the four winds against her foe.

Looking around, she could see no more enemies, only allies. Everyone was looking around anxiously, on edge but more or less safe. After a moment and the absence of further attacks Asante nodded and gave a loud bark. A cry of victory and it was picked up by the other hyenas who howled and the cry was taken up by pack. Zuri gave a whoop of celebration, as Kiava sank to the ground, in relief, finding himself exhausted.

"Thank the kings." He whispered.

Asante moved over to him, a smirk on her face, though as Kiava was beginning to detect, held no malice. Hyenas always smirked, even when they were not mocking.

"You fought well, Princeling! Better than I would have predicted at any rate! Did I count four kills?" She asked him.

"Three and a half. Zuri pinned the last one, before I killed it." Kiava said, but he was smiling. Asante shuddered.

"Yeeesh. Lions. You might stink and you sure are ugly as hell – but man can you do some killing." She said. Then she grinned. "I myself, am sitting on six individual kills." She said, proudly.

"Is that good, do you think?" Kiava asked. Asante laughed.

"A single kill is good Kiava so long as it's one of the Shai'tan's lackies. Hyenas don't usually bother to count individual kills since we hunt as a pack. But I suppose with a lion in the mix, we can start to make exceptions." She said, looking around, and slightly impressed. In all, the wilddogs force had numbered just under two dozen. Kiava would have wanted to have more hyenas with him before attacking them, so as to at least outnumber them, but as Asante had predicted, the wilddogs were already weakened from their brutal defeat at Kiava's paws days before in skeleton canyon. Now only small pockets of the canines were left. Deserters, raiders and a pawful of others. Spies, scouts and the injured or otherwise incapacitated. This had been the largest and only organised group of them left, outside of Abyss' not inconsiderable army of serpents. Shenzi had given him a pack of a ten wilddogs – the surviving members of the Shadowpups. With the two lion that made an even dozen. Kiava had turned down the offer to lead it though: It was Asante's pack and he didn't want to hijack that from her.

"Did we take any casualties?" He asked her. Asante's face became serious.

"No deaths." She said. "A few serious wounds and I am worried about a couple who managed to get themselves surrounded at the height of the fighting. If their wounds turn rotten, they are not safe yet. We got lucky. We've not been so lucky for a long time." Asante said.

"Luck had nothing to do with it. We had some pretty good leaders." Bhagari pointed out as he made his way through the gore towards them, leaving bloodied pawprints as he did so. The male hyena was cheerful, despite an injury to his head sending blood down one side on his face. Asante tutted when she saw it.

"You're getting careless, Bhagari." She chastised him. Bhagari laughed.

"This? This is nothing. I got nicked when I was distracted by the two shrieking balls of death over here. Would some like to remind me again why we spent so long at war with these freaks' species?" He shuddered. "Horrible idea." He muttered.

Zuri coughed, not feeling too comfortable with the attention, or being called a shrieking ball of death. If she was going to be well known among their new hyena allies, she would have liked it to be for something other than killing things. Kiava, catching her expression moved the conversation forwards.

"Is there anything else?" He asked. Asante shrugged.

"Four dogs surrendered near the end of the fighting."

"That was optimistic of them." Bhagari noted. Kiava froze, his expression hardening.

"I'll need to speak to them." He said coldly. Asante nodded.

"I thought as much. Let the others have their rest. They are over here."

The captured dogs were not bound or held in anyway. They stood a little way off, encircled by hyenas, but looking completely defeated. Bruised, bleeding, and a fixed with looks of such complete despair, Kiava couldn't help but feel a sense of smugness as he made his way towards them. He berated himself for that and told himself to be serious.

"Stand up. You're standing in the presence of the True King." Asante barked. Hyenas didn't go in for protocol or the like, she was perfectly happy to subject defeated enemies to the humiliation. The wilddogs stood shakily to their feet with little encouragement and looked anxious, as the cub approached. Kiava's eyes narrowed. The dogs were taken aback at the sight. When Amun had described the Prince of the Pridelands, they had envisioned a cub, but had presumed him a youngling, terrified and weak. In their minds, barely beyond the drinking of his mother's milk. Instead, they beheld a boy whose youth only served to make his cold demeanour more unsettling, his blood-soaked countenance looking grim. A cub he certainly was, but they knew a Lion King when they saw one. An adult who held himself such to deliver judgement and death was a frightening enough thing. To see such deadly determination on the face of a mere child only made it all the more unnerving to see with their own eyes.

Kiava's black mane had grown since the fall of Pride Rock and now it extended back behind his head and over the tips of his ears, pressed flat by blood and sweat. Framing his bright emerald eyes.

Kiava didn't need to say a word. He just stood there. Waiting. The moments turned to minutes. Then finally, one of the dogs cautiously raised his voice.

"Um? Your Majesty. Uhh." Kiava fixed his gaze upon him.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked him.

"You're supposed to be Pr-King, Kiava. The son of King Kovu. The one who is fighting the Shai'tan." The lead wilddog answered. Kiava nodded.

"Good answer. Except as of a few days ago, I am the one who kills them. Which is not good news for you, because you just tried to kill me." He said calmly. "Actually, you've been trying to do that for a few days now. Among us royal types, that's what we refer to as treason." He said softly. "The only reason you are still alive, is because there is a chance that you might happen to know something useful. That is all." He said. Asante grinned wickedly and her eyes blazed an unearthly white.

"Oh. Leave that to me. If they do, we'll know soon enough. Though, if screams unnerve you, you might want to stand a way away." She pointed. Kiava held up a claw.

"I don't think there will be any need for that. I am certain that they will be very cooperative." Kiava said. None of the dogs moved. Eventually, one spoke.

"I don't know much. But I can tell you what I know." he said.

"What are you doing?!" One hissed, elbowing him.

"You bloody fool – they'll kill you if you say a word, and even if they don't the Emperor will if you turn coat!" It snapped at him. The wilddog met Kiava's eyes.

"Then I am dead anyway, I may as well take my chances. What do you want to know?" He asked him,

"The Gateways, the Shai'tan use to travel through. Do you know of them?"

"A couple of times. Even saw the Imperium Homeland once, through one, but for less than a day."

"Amun came through one, at his old encampment. Is it still open?" Kiava asked.

"No. It was sealed." The dog admitted. Kiava shrugged. Useless then.

"Anything else we ought to know?"

"You've won here. But you can't seriously hope to defeat the Emperor." The wilddog told him. Kiava didn't move a muscle in his face.

"Funny. That is what Amun said. He died." he said. The dog expression didn't change.

"I don't mean it as a threat. Just a warning. Lord Amun was but one of Seven and he was getting messengers from the rest. The Emperor is back in the Pridelands, and so are the rest of the Seven. You don't stand a chance against them all. Do you think I would have stayed in the Pridelands if I thought you did?" He said.

"I don't know why you do anything. Is that really the best you can manage, in exchange for your life?"

"I'm nobody important. My life isn't worth much. That bloody python is the only one who know anything useful, he was always talking strategy with Lord Amun. Ask him." he said. The other dogs looked panicked. Was he admitting that they were useless? Asante sighed.

"And there was me hoping you might have been worth sparing." She said, bearing her teeth. Kiava shook his head.

"No. Leave them." He said. He glared at the dogs. "I'm the King of the Pridelands, and if you want to know one thing about me, I don't slaughter defenceless prisoners. Even though I know you would." He said. The dogs looked about in confusion. Kiava grabbed with himself, trying to keep bound the anger burning inside him. "You betrayed the Pridelands. So I'll punish your treason as my father would. You are exiled. If you are found within the Pridelands or their territories, by myself, or any of mine, then your lives will be forfeit. You're right. Your lives aren't worth much at all." He said. "Go. And tell it to any wilddog you meet along the way. Get out. Leave. Run away and never return to my Kingdom. Because pretty soon nowhere in the Shadowlands, the Outlands, the Pridelands, or any of the other kingdoms under my rule, or under the rule of my allies, will be a home or haven to you!" He shouted.

"But –"

"Be forgotten and abandoned, as you forgot and abandoned your loyalties; to my family and to yourselves." He said. The act of mercy felt like weakness and he could see disapproving looks from several hyenas, but didn't have it in him to stomach executing the survivors. The dogs stared at him as if he were mad. The hyenas merely looked initially perplexed but then shrugged. The dogs were defeated and no longer a threat to anyone but themselves. Let them vanish off the face of the Pridelands for all they cared.

"Go!" he commanded and the four surviving wilddogs ran for their lives, in four different directions. One glanced back and Kiava growled a warning which sent it scurrying.

Asante watched them as they went. She smiled. It might be merciful, but it was also useful. Dead wilddogs spoke to no one. But fleeing defeated foes would spread tales of Kiava. Kiava who defeated and killed Amun and a legion of dogs alone, Kiava who hunted down the survivors and then, showed mercy in act of compassion. She didn't doubt it would run through the land like wildfire. Had Kiava intended it, or was it simply his nature? She didn't suppose it mattered. The effect was the same.

With the act done, Kiava sat down once more. Zuri came up behind him and licked the blood from the side of his face. He shut his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the closeness and presence of his friends. When he opened them again, his gaze was serious again.

"I hope I didn't just screw up." He muttered, sounding concerned. Zuri shook her head at the suggestion.

"I think… that you just did a very hard and very brave thing. And I think it was the right thing to do." She said. Kiava sighed.

"You should go get some rest. We've got more to do. It's a hard day's march back to Skeleton Canyon tomorrow. I want us to be ready. That was probably the last of the wilddogs, but Abyss is still out there with all his snakes."

"I hate snakes."

"I wondered why we never thought them much. Turns out Amun seized most of them for his own legion. Now we're gonna be fighting them all at once. I wish Amun had brought them into the trap." Zuri purred. "Don't worry about that for now." She told him. Kiava nodded.

"You are right. Again." He said, as she stood up to leave him. "Zuri?" He asked, as she turned away.

"Yes?"

"You… You were brilliant today. Really." He told her, smiling softly. She smiled back, blushing the faintest shade of pink.

"You too. Stay alive." She said. Then she moved away. Asante smiled as she went away, before sitting down next to Kiava.

"She's certainly something." She said. Kiava didn't notice her tone, so she changed the subject.

"Something has unsettled you, Kiava." She told him. Kiava nodded.

"When we were hunting after them, I felt… Something. Like I was linked to you all. I've never felt that before." He told her, thinking back to the hunt, before the fight, where his senses had been nearly overwhelmed, and he had felt himself losing his individuality. He tried to explain it. Asante listened.

"Ah. That. Does it frighten you?" She asked, looking interested. Kiava shook his head, but was glad he wasn't losing his mind.

"No. Its not like it made me go wild with rage and bloodlust. Beyond anger and hatred… It was like all that mattered was the hunt." he said. Asante nodded.

"I know what you're talking about. But we don't talk about it much." She said. Kiava looked confused, so Asante tried to explain. "We call it the thrill. The Thrill of the hunt. You might call it primal instinct. Or bloodlust. Whatever you like. I think most carnivores feel it if they're honest with themselves though not normally at your age, or mine, come to think of it. But most adults feel it. Ask any of them. I suppose if you're used to hunting alone though…"

"Yeah. It felt like more." Kiava nodded. Initially, part of it had frightened him, but as he felt its warm flow more and more, he became used to its alien touch. It felt. normal. Natural even. Primal, but not wrong. He said as much, and Asante nodded again.

"Don't worry about it, Kiava. It's no eviller than any other feeling. It is just a part of life. Maybe there's more hyena in you than you thought." Asante had told him. "The bloodthirsty part of it, means we don't talk about it much." She grumbled. "But any time you've seen your family lunge for a piece of a meat, scramble, powering through blood and sweat they've felt it. The chase. The hunt. It's what lets the pack work together without speaking."

"Why have I started to feel it now?" Kiava asked with relief. Asante shrugged, unconcerned.

"Like I said, everyone does on some level. You are just more open to it now. Mom said that some lions did. I can only guess she meant Scar and Zira. So, tyrants know what Kovu sensed when he hunted – and he did hunt, male or not, king or not, Kovu hunted and so did his siblings. That was what made them all so dangerous." Asante said. Kiava nodded.

"Interesting." He said. Asante smiled.

"Lions don't feel it as much because they usually hunt alone. I was watching you and Zuri today, and I think she felt it too, though she perhaps wasn't as aware of it. You've not been hunting long, have you?" She asked him. Kiava shrugged.

"Danyal taught me to hunt, days before the Pride splintered." He said. "We hunted a little bit with Sarafina, but then stopped for a bit. There wasn't time. We went back to eating bugs."

"Eww. That's gross."

"You don't need to tell me."

"Well in that case, you're probably a natural. You've starting hunting like a hyena, in a group. If you are that open to the feelings and senses of others… Well." Asante shifted. Kiava blinked.

"What?" He asked.

"Well, if you were one of my shadowpups I'd say it's the sort of talent you'd spot in a hyena destined to be a Pack-leader." She admitted.

"So…"

"Hey, you're gonna be king. Don't shut it out. Maybe you're gonna be a good leader after all. Course, you don't have the savagery you'd expect of a hyena your age. But then, you're not a hyena, so I don't know what is considered good by lion standards." She said. "Sparr with us some evening. Let me see for myself." She said, smirking. Kiava nodded, thinking back to how he had seen the hyenas train. When they practiced it was a social event, witnessed by many, with others cheering or booing as the fight progressed. Perhaps it was time to try his own paw.

"I'd be honoured." He said, with a grin. "We should get going."

"Yeah, probably. The hyenas aren't used to having a King: It must nearly be time to mingle with the common folk." She said, sarcastically. Kiava laughed.

"I have never done anything like that in my life. But I will start if you will, Princess Asante." He said. Asante's eyes bulged.

"What did you just call me!?" She gasped. Kiava laughed.

"Oh, you are – you know it! Your mother is the matriarch! You are going to inherit the clan!" He said. Asante scowled.

"That doesn't make me a princess, fool. Princesses are… Prissy." She said lamely. Kiava stood up, wiping his blood-stained paws on the ground.

"Well, then, in that case, Pack-Leader, Sir, perhaps, we should merely reconvene with the troops, and leave such pretentious nonsense?" He suggested. Asante shuddered.

"An excellent suggestion, your majesty." She said. It was an odd thing for her to say, even now, but it didn't catch in her throat the way it used too. This was a king she could get behind. She didn't have to grovel or stoop or bow or scrape. She merely had to go where he pointed, and kill things. For a hyena, that was a fairly decent sort of king. And if, in the meantime, if he actually did some ruling, and made the place run smoothly, well, so much the better.

Far beyond the Shadowlands, to the east, a vulture spoke in a low and sombre voice. Vultures spent their lives surrounded by death. The scent of it was like musk to them. It took a lot to frighten such a being who knew mortality better than most. But it wasn't impossible, and right now the messenger vulture was incredibly aware of its own mortality and the fear of its own death.

Before him, sat the Emperor. The might tiger and ruler of the Imperium. Radiating from the colossal feline, was pure incandescent anger.

"Repeat that." He said. The vulture had no wish to do so.

"I said… Lord Amun's forces are decimated. Amun himself has been slain, fighting the hyenas of the spotted clan." He said. Ben-Kai-Ra roared in sheer blind fury.

"ARRRRRRRRAHHH!" He bellowed, before slamming his paw into one of the stone pillars around him. The claws sliced clean through the rock, sending sparks into the air. Anger boiled. It burst forth and howled, a tempest of anger and hatred. Gradually it subsided. He gathered himself, and turned back the vulture. He found them to be disgusting detritovores. To his mind, they were the epitome of weakness. They nevered hunted for themselves but were merely scavengers. Even the hyenas and wilddogs would hunt for themselves when they could, but vultures were pure parasites who fed off the strength of others. It was fortunate for them, that they had their own uses. They could travel at impossible heights and great distances.

Asamode stood nearby, calmly regarding the spectacle.

"So." Asamode said. "Amun is dead."

"I regret to inform you so, sire." The vulture said. Ben-Kai-Ra brimmed with anger.

"He had a legion." He seethed. "I sent him to eradicate the last pocket of resistance."

"I suppose Amun wasn't as smart as liked to believe. I never found him to be especially skilled either." Asamode commented. The Emperor glared at him.

"Amun was one of the first to bend the knee to my rule. Without waiting first to see who was likely to prevail between my father or myself. Sekhmet. Rish'ut. And now Amun. This land is cursed. No other domain has so refused to be brought to heel."

"And yet he does not seem to have predicted his own death. Perhaps he ought to have consulted the oracle before leaving here." Asamode suggested. The Emperor roared in anger.

"Be silent." He commanded, and brooded. Asamode's single eye glinted, but he bowed his head. Eventually he spoke. "Go and seek Mortread and my daughter. Tell her to do as she suggested. Send Mortread forth. Bring Kiava before me. And tell Mortread that I no longer need this King alive. I couldn't inflict enough suffering in a single lifetime, even if I had the patience. Bring me his head! Then, Marsade can resurrect him as many times as required." He said.

"As you wish. But what of the Shadowlands?" He asked. The Emperor turned to the vulture.

"Return to Amun's troops. Any you can find. Tell him..." He hesitated. "Retreat." He almost hissed the words. "Withdraw from the Shadowlands. We shall stamp out the rebellion here, before they can grow any larger. They are a tumour that must be excised. Then we can crush some rabble in the Shadowlands, even if they have defeated a Shai'tan. Once this insurgency is dealt with I shall obliterate that ruined kingdom and turn it into a pile of rubble. Carrocscir will burn and the ashes will not even remember how it was ever otherwise!" He declared. It was a grand promise to soften the blow of the order to retreat. Asamode bowed low, his tail swishing in the air as he left.

"As you command. My Lord." Asamode said, before turning his back on the emperor, and strolled out without a further word. The vulture messenger fled the room with him deciding the company of the Shai'tan was only slightly less terrifying than that of the Emperor.

As they left, the Emperor's eyes almost burnt holes into their backs. He remained as solid as a stone for a moment. Then he withdrew a claw. The blackened tip was razor sharp along the edges as well as at the tip. He had put considerable effort into sharpening them. He admired it for a moment, before thrusting it into his paw without further hesitation. Immediately, blood bubbled to the surface. Crimson, but dark, almost a hint of black to his. He clenched his paw, forcing it well inside his paw tips, feeling the thrill of the pain. Then he threw it to the ground, sending the droplet spraying.

The drops stood there for a moment. Then they began to hiss, sending up coils of smoke. The blood boiled, and the air shimmered. And out of the haze, Marsade appeared. The orangutan was gaunt, greying, and, most obviously, missing an arm. But even so, an aura of fear, no, terror, emanating from him. He hissed.

"You should not be so free with that. Any blood you use for that will never be renewed within your body. You know that! You'll be forever without those drops of blood. Loss of too much will result in. Complications." He reminded him.

"Amun is dead."

Marsade didn't seem surprised.

"So?" He asked

"SO!" The Emperor roared. The ground trembled, and if the vulture in the corner had remained, he would have been trying to melt in the wall out of fear. Still, it did not do to have such frivolous displays of emotional volatility. "In case you haven't been counting, that is three of my Chosen dead, Shaman."

"Amun managed to create devastation before he was slain: His death will not inconvenience my plans; it may even accelerate them."

"And what of my plans? I fail to see how the rule of my Imperium is served by the loss of my lieutenants?"

"That is because you do not see the larger picture here." Marsade said, impatiently. The Emperor was not soothed. Rather, he became enraged, and he strode towards the image of the Shaman, looking murderous and his claws fully extended into wicked knives.

"Half of most trusted servants!" He seethed. The anger of the Emperor was a terrifying thing to witness. His anger seemed as deep as the depths of the ocean but it burst from him with such a blaze of ravenous heat, one could almost feel it. The emotions of a Shai'tan became another weapon with whom to assault their foes but with no target for his anger, it merely boiled inside him, burning with a hateful glow.

"Your grasp of arithmetic is second to none." Marsade said dryly, seemingly unconcerned by the anger of the most powerful creature in the worlds. He stood there, as if bored, picking his fingernails with the edge of the dark bladed weapon he wielded as all time now. Black smoke seemed to coil from it. The Emperor snorted.

"You would demand more of me, after this!? I recall us making a bargain. You would destroy the Pridelands; I would rule the rubble. You kill Rafiki; I take his homeland. And yet, the Shaman survives! The Kingdom survives! The King lives on, like a cockroach, that I can't stamp out!"

"Not for much longer, I fear. Or did you think that I have been idle while you play at being Emperor with your toy soldiers? I only ask that you are patient my old friend. You have waited this long, after all. What are a few more months?"

"Do you take me for a fool, Sorcerer?"

"Oh no! I know who and what you are, Ben-Kai-Ra. You are one of the cruellest, darkest creatures to walk this earth, but I know spirits and monsters far worse."

"Like what?"

"Like me for one. If Amun is dead, than it is a tragedy. We are all very sad for your loss, and I offer my most heartfelt condolences. But it is a mild setback, that will mean nothing in the long run. Keep your forces. Keep your armies. Rafiki is the only person who could possibly be a threat to our plans at this point anyway and while he is focused on you, he is letting me proceed with my plan."

"And that is what precisely? You are trying my patience, Shaman!"

"If you wanted to assist in that endeavour then you could lend me Raeveal and Leviath. I can put those Shai'tan to good use, as you well know. What have they done yet? At least Amun and Rish'ut died doing something productive, rather than sitting around feasting while the Imperium remained so threatened." He said, grinning. Ben-Kai-Ra hesitated.

"Asamode would be required to return here to command the forces of the Shai'tan. I do not want Mortread taking responsible for all of our forces. Too much power gives them… Ideas... above their station." He said. Marsade shrugged.

"Trusted servants, eh? As you like. When the time comes to actually battle this Prince Kiava, Or Lady Vitani, or Rafiki or whoever it is you've decided to brutally slaughter, I can have them back with you in moments. I am a Shaman, you know. It's what I do." He pointed out. Ben-Kai-Ra nodded his head, as he reached to the ground and picked up a small rock nearby. He had used it to sharpen his claws before, and he ran them across it now. The grating noise would have sent shivers down the spine of any eavesdropper, but to the Emperor, it was soothing.

"Very well, Shaman. But do not test me. I want these lands, Marsade. The rule of my Imperium shall last for the next thousand years."

"Then what is a few more moons?"

"I should hate to think that you did not value the terms of our deal." He said, narrowing his eyes. Marsade laughed.

"If I seem to lack of enthusiasm for such minor things as conquest, it is only because I aspire to higher things. But I gave you my word, Emperor. I would never betray it." he said calmly. The Emperor stared at him for a moment, as if searching for deceit. Then he nodded.

"Judge me for my ambitions all you wish, necromancer. So long as you pay your part in my design." He said, his fist closing around the rock, and crushing it to dust in his paws.

"And you, yours, Emperor. Believe me. If the time comes, and it becomes necessary, I shall go forth and sweep away Kiava, Vitani, this pitiful rebellion, and every last Pridelander, personally. If it becomes necessary. I would rather not have to. As what need would I have for your Imperium?" The Shaman said, smiling. His teeth sowed through, more yellowed than before and overly sharp for primate. He grinned, and slashed his own hand with the dagger he bore, spilling his blood on the ground, where it ignited in a flash. It flared, and dark flame leapt up and spread out across his form. Smoke spurted and flesh hissed, and for a moment, Marsade cackled with a high cruel laugh as the flames engulfed him. Then he vanished as the flames flared and died out.