Thragg smiled as he looked on, leaning against the doorway, as Argall and Nareena worked together to prepare the Wilderbeast. His wife and heart began by giving the boy a skinning knife, thin and sharp and flexible, meant to get into crevices and slice apart skin and sinew with extreme ease. They'd done this numerous times, before, of course, but this was the first time Nareena had actually bothered to teach Argall herself. Most of the time, she gave him a knife and gave him instructions and then walked off to do whatever she wanted. Nareena was a free woman like that, her spirit never quite contained anywhere. Many were the times that Thragg awakened to find her gone, having ventured off in search of adventure somewhere, leaving only a note, telling how she'd return after a while.
He'd been incensed at first, but soon found it... endearing. Viltrumites, he realized, were much the same, never quite tethered anywhere.
So, it was a nice change of pace to see her being a mother to Argall. She loved him, Thragg knew that much, but there had always been a sort of gap between them, given that she hadn't birthed the boy and had no sanguine connection with him. And Argall's almost unnatural charisma had no effect on Nareena.
"You're being impatient, Argall," Nareena berated, the streaks of silver that marred her otherwise dark hair seemed to shimmer in the faint light. Beside her, Argall had a focused, but otherwise frustrated look on his face. Thragg found it endearing, watching the two of them this way. It was only around them, after all, Nareena and himself, that Argall could be an actual child. Everyone else showered the boy with too much adoration, exactly the sort of treatment that created entitled and arrogant brats. "Let the knife do the work; you are simply its humble guide. Look, Argall; see how easily the hide separates from the muscle if you do it slowly and carefully?"
"Yes, mother." Argall nodded and imitated his mother's method, soon finding it much easier than his previous attempt, the astonishment clear in his young eyes. Nareena smiled briefly, before she nodded back. And yet, there was also a harmless sort of frustration in Argall's face, a bruised ego. The boy had gotten so used to praise and rewards that any criticism almost seemed to hurt him – almost. Argall was learning, at least, that he was far from perfect, despite all his gifts and talents. Their eyes met briefly and Thragg nodded at the boy. "Thank you for your guidance, mother."
Perfection didn't exist. You only had to make the best of what's already there. It took Thragg quite a while to realize that, after many hours of quiet contemplation. He already had all that he needed and wanted. Nareena and Sereen loved and recognized him unconditionally. It was... peaceful. No wonder Nolan and his son fought so hard to defend what was theirs. The lure of a simple and honest life was... something else.
It took them almost an hour to fully skin the massive creature. The hide, Thragg mused, would be used to make excellent leather or it could also be processed into glue – or both. The bones would be boiled to create thickened and highly nutritious broths, before they are then grounded up into bone meal to be fed to the soil. The meat, of course, would have to be cured and dried; there was so much of it that most of it would spoil if not properly treated.
Every part of the animal had to be consumed or used; that was how a hunter showed respect for prey. And, most importantly, a hunter did not kill for sport or trophies. Sure, Nareena kept the horns, but they didn't have much use for anything else, anyway. Looking back, Thragg wondered just how many kills he'd wasted, how many lives he'd destroyed for little more than sport and blood and conquest, the innocents he'd snuffed out because he felt like it.
Too many to count.
His hands were stained by the blood of billions, including the blood of his own children.
He needed to do something before he got lost in his thoughts once more and that was not the sort of path he wanted to take. Brooding was pointless. Thragg shook his head, forcing a smile before he coughed into his fist to get Nareena's attention. She turned to him, her eyes almost glowing in the light above them. "I'll prepare the vegetables, wife."
Wilderbeast stew was simple, but incredibly hearty, especially if it was paired with Golden Pomates and Black Cabbages, and braised in white wine for a long period of time. Alternatively, smoked Wilderbeast cutlets was divine, seasoned simply with salt and sugar, and left to smoke, low and slow, for several hours, before being wrapped in butcher's paper, resulting in very succulent and very flavorful meat, which would then be served alongside steamed Golden Pomates and thinly-sliced Black Cabbages.
Those were, honestly, the only two vegetables he could stomach. The rest tasted like dirt and moss; while his Viltrumite constitution meant he could eat just about anything, Thragg still maintained a preference for food that actually tasted good and wasn'tjust edible. He'd been a Grand Regent once, after all, practically an Emperor, the ruler of several conquered worlds.
Nareena nodded, smiling faintly. "Very well, husband. Argall and I will prepare the cutlets."
Thragg nodded back and turned away. Argall could use some more time with his mother. Nareena rarely spent time with the boy, caught up in some adventure as she usually was. And Argall had a longing to spend time with her, a fact the boy had never admitted aloud, but was clear to see, nonetheless. Thus, Thragg's presence was unnecessary. It was more than likely that Nareena would already be gone by the next day, likely after the stew was finished and she'd eaten her fill. Perhaps, once the week was over, Thragg could take the boy out on an extended adventure, something – no doubt – Argall would thoroughly enjoy.
Preparing the vegetables was quick and simple, mostly consisting of washing and cutting, and adding everything into a single pot. The people of Alka and, subsequently, the rest of the planet, did not cultivate spices of any sort. It was a shame, really, but just another quirk Thragg learned to live with, eventually. Besides, it wasn't as though Wilderbeast meat did not taste good on its own. It was, in fact, delicious; the muscles were fatty and tender, but also firm. Wilderbeast steaks were widely popular for a reason, though Thragg did not quite enjoy them as much as Nareena did.
Dinner was a simple affair. Once the stew began simmering and much of the butchery was finished, a simple meal of cured meat, aged cheese, bread, and fresh butter. The dining table was large enough for four people, but only three seats were occupied. Thragg found that he missed Sereen, his daughter, and he often wondered what she'd made of herself, now that she was free to govern her destiny in full. Nareena missed her as well, Thragg knew, but she never voiced her thoughts on the matter. Argall, meanwhile, had never really been close to his sister. They knew each other only very briefly and did not develop a close bond. Oh, they spoke and greeted one another in the few times Sereen ever visited, but there was an undeniable gap between them, one that only grew larger and farther was time moved on.
"This beautiful, Argall." Nareena said, looking over the spear Argall had created for her, the one capable of discharging lightning bolts. Her eyes were wide and filled with awe and wonder. Truly, Argall's skill with technology was almost divine; and, considering the boy's origins, it probably was. Infants didn't just fall from the sky, Thragg mused. Somewhere our there, Argall had another father, another mother, who probably gave him another name and likely designed him for a specific purpose in mind. And, depending on the state of the universe, it was likely that whoever created the boy would come for him soon enough. Thragg would not interfere, unless Argall's life was on the line. By then, his son would likely have grown into a proper man, capable of making his own decisions and standing by the consequences. Thragg hoped he'd done a good-enough job as a father, by then.
Nareena spun the spear and held it out, seemingly already attuned to the weapon, despite only grasping it moments ago. With what seemed like a mere mental command, she unleashed a lightning bolt that tore apart one of the decorative rocks they'd placed on their garden. Thragg raised a brow. He was a bit fond that rock. Picked it up himself from the quarry. There were many like it, but that one was theirs. Oh well, the smoking, scattered bits actually seemed like they'd look good if they were rearranged. Nareena grinned and embraced Argall, who was already about as tall as she was. "It's perfect! Thank you, son!"
The boy grinned under his mother's praise. And, Thragg had to admit, Argall's creation was a work of unparalleled genius, capable of killing just about anything in the scrapyard, except, perhaps, a dragon. But there were very few animals capable of surviving a lightning bolt as the electrical surge would destroy their nervous system. Viltrumites, of course, can shrug off such things, but there were no Viltrumites here, only humans and a whole population of monstrous beasts and savage creatures. Thragg was glad for it, of course, seeing as the potency of such a weapon meant she'd be safer in whatever adventure she wanted to embark on when she felt like doing so.
"It's nothing, mother." Argall replied, blushing slightly, but otherwise proud of himself – as he should be, Thragg thought. "If it's for the betterment my family, then it's nothing. When you return, I'll have a suit of armor for you."
Thragg nodded. That was good. Not the armor part, but the fact that Argall cared for his mother. He'd seen the cold detachment that'd once been in the boy's eyes, likely fueled by his belief that he was better than his peers, his classmates, and friends. It was true, in many ways; Argall was monstrously intelligent and gifted. Such a thing was dangerous, Thragg mused. Combined with Argall's unnatural genius and unparalleled charisma, the cold detachment would eventually lead him towards the path of a tyrant, a leader who cared little for his people and Thragg could not allow his son to follow in the footsteps of the Viltrumite Empire. He had to be better. Because Argall was on the path tobecoming a leader; the boy was already the king of his classmates. All his friends looked up to him and even his teachers were in awe of him. It was a good thing, then, that the boy's detachment was gradually cracking away, paving the way for compassion.
Now, if only he could get rid of Argall's sadistic impulses. He tried, of course, and Thragg still kept trying, but... he wasn't sure what the best approach was. Among Viltrumites, such a thing was encouraged, creating highly aggressive and violent warriors who relished in the pain and suffering they caused for the sake of the Viltrumite Empire. Or, at the very least, the ones who raised him had encouraged such things, made him brutal and vicious.
"I can't wait to see it, son." Nareena smiled, truly. And Thragg found himself smiling as well, watching his little family. But then, he noted, his wife's eyes were suddenly distant, sad, melancholic. And, in that moment, Thragg saw the fine lines and wrinkles that marred her face, the shadows of time finally catching up to her. And, in that moment, his heart ached. "I can't wait to see what you'll become."
At that, Argall straightened. And the glint in his eyes promised great things. "I swear, I'll make you proud, mother."
And then, a sudden, but frantic knocking at their front door ruined the moment. Nareena's eyes widened briefly, before they narrowed. Argall held a cold and calculating look. This was highly unusual. No one ever had the guts to knock on their front door. Nareena's reputation was such that people had to schedule appointments if they wanted to meet her. And, more than that, it was the middle of the night; what could anyone possible want? Thragg stood up, curious; this had never happened before. And didn't seem like either his wife or his son were in the moods to greet whoever was knocking anyway. "I'll get it."
Thragg walked towards the door, idly noting the rapid heartbeat of whoever was on the other side. Raising a brow, Thragg twisted the knob and pulled the door open. On the other side was the Mayor, Rammun or some such; Thragg never bothered much with who was Mayor. The position was mostly ceremonial anyway, since the people mostly governed themselves. The man was covered in sweat and panting heavily, skin pale and eyes frantic. His hands shook as he spoke. "The planet's being invaded!"
Thragg blinked. He was not expecting that. "Calm down, mayor. What are you talking about?"