Disclaimer:
These characters do not belong to me, but to the writers and producers
of
Spoilers:
After Chant Down Babylon, changes happening
where Max is successfully rescued, and Michael was the one who broke up with
Maria.
Pairings: You’ll have to wait and see!
Pronunciation Guide: Puden (PEW - den)
Caldor (K – al – DOOR)
Gorga Dea (GORE – ga
Chasser (Ch – AH – ser)
Liesner (LIES – ner))
Author’s notes: Queen
Fadilia Kedar: Max/Isabel’s mother
King
Alaric Kedar: Max/Isabel’s father
Andaria: Tess’ mother
Radim: Tess’ father
Kedrans: race from which Royal Four descended
Iturians:
race from which Khivar descended, and overthrew and killed Zan and the Kedrans
Cerideans:
special core ops of the Iturian army, mostly psyonics and telepaths
Kaptar’s Jewel: constellation in the Antarian’s
star system
Yun’s Garment: Aurora Borealis - Northern Lights
Saren Dari: desert plain on Antar
Chasser : animal similar
to a cat
Chapter Fifty Four
***
He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human
institution which rejects progress is the cemetery.
- Harold Wilson
***
Everything was happening so fast,
Liz wasn't quite sure to make of it. Max
had found some remote information from Jesse's mind, as he delved into the
recesses of Isabel's husband's mind. It
was nothing solid, but it was enough of a lead that Max had begun to form a
plan - he would head out into the desert to meet his adversary.
It didn't sit well with Liz. She had no intention of allowing Max to go
out into the unknown, searching for their friends, alone. It was not smart.
But Max insisted. He did not want to see her or Jesse, who also
disagreed with this newfound strategy, hurt; because none of them knew what to
expect from this invisible foe. Liz
understood his concern, but she believed in her heart that accompanying him out
there was the right move. Deep
down, she knew that Max didn't realize what he was getting himself into. There was something so ominous and expectedly
predictable about Max's decision - it was like something out of a horror movie,
when the main characters go out into the unknown to face down the unseen
creatures, only to be confronted by the unexpected and then slaughtered. And Liz was going to make damn sure that
would not happen.
"So when are we going out
there?" she asked.
Max slowly raised his head; his brooding
gaze pierced her steely confidence. "I
told you that you and Jesse are staying here."
Liz swallowed hard and shook her
head, briefly glancing at Jesse, who sat up at the mention of joining Max in
the rescue, before staring down Max's determined gaze. "There's no way we're going to let you
go out there alone. You have no idea
what you're going to be facing out there," she declared. "I've mastered some of my powers, sort
of, and I can be used. It would be an
element of surprise - they would never expect a human to have alien
powers." Liz folded her arms across
her chest and cocked her head to the side.
"And I could probably remember where I was better, once I get out
there." Jesse added.
Max sighed. "You guys don't understand what you're
getting into. They've already got Kyle,
Maria, Isabel, and our parents - I don't want to have to keep looking over my
shoulder, wondering if you're somehow going to get hurt. He leaned against the kitchen counter, as she
and Jesse sat at the kitchen table. "This isn't some game," he said
solemnly. "They are here to make
sure the job gets done, and I will be able to focus better if you guys are not
in the way."
Liz tensed at his ignorant
comments. "You're wrong," she
exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. "I
learned how to use these strange powers Maxwell...probably more efficiently
than you have in the time that you've known you are an alien." Liz approached Max, who rolled his eyes at
her declaration. "I am not some
helpless damsel in distress." She
glared at him, irritated at the blanket statements he was throwing around so
easily.
"Do you even know the extent of
your powers?"
Liz pursed her lips and remained
silent. She had not tested the range of
her abilities, but she knew that she had the ability to produce energy blasts,
and change the atomic structures of inanimate objects. Granted, Liz was no expert, and by far, the
least powerful of the other Four, but she could hold her own.
"Look, I'm not going to argue
with you. You're probably going to do
what you want anyway, so it'll be safer for me to know where you are," Max
said, conceding to her demand. "But
Jesse, you're not going. It'll be safer
if you stay here."
Jesse shook his head and looked at
him in dismay. "How can you say
that?" he exclaimed. "Isabel
needs me, and there's no way in hell I'm going to let anyone hurt her."
"Max," Liz turned to her
former lover, "I think Jesse needs to come."
Max frowned. "No."
Liz knew Jesse had no way to defend
himself against these aliens - no alien powers that had generated from any
healings - but deep in her gut, something told her that they would need
him. Isabel would need him.
"Please." She stared imploringly at Maxwell. He seemed adamant of his decision, but
unexpectedly, like a sudden flash within his dark eyes, Max looked over at
Jesse.
"Fine," he reluctantly
mumbled. Then Max looked firmly down at
her. "But you will do exactly what
I tell you, when I tell you, and do it without questions."
Liz was hesitant to agree with those
terms; but as she opened her mouth to protest, she noticed a change in Max's
stance, as if there was a set plan he was relying on, which relied on their
co-operation. She closed her mouth and
swallowed her pride, glancing at Jesse, who seemed ready to argue the point
with Max as well, and nodded.
"Fine. We'll do what you ask
us to do."
Max glanced at Jesse, who seemed
surprised at Liz's sudden acquiescence.
"And what about you?"
"Yeah, fine," Jesse
muttered. "I'll go along with
it."
Liz breathed a sigh of relief, as
Jesse agreed. She closed her eyes and
uttered a silent prayer.
Please keep let this turn out right.
"All right then," Max said
softly, starting her out of her private thoughts. "It's late. And we're going to have a long day ahead of
us..."
"What are you suggesting?"
Jesse said distastefully.
"I think we should get some
sleep before we start out tomorrow morning," Max finished.
"You mean we're not going out
tonight?" Liz asked a little surprised.
Max shook his head. "If we do that, we'd be falling into his
trap."
"What do you mean?" She
frowned, not following his logic.
Max turned and looked soberly at
her. "If we go out tired and not
thinking clearly, we'll be dead in the first meeting."
Liz glanced briefly at Jesse, as
they were all silenced by this thought.
"So get some sleep," Max
sighed. "Because I have a feeling
this is just the beginning."
~~~
His advice had been sound, but Max
was unable to follow it. As Liz took his
bed and Jesse went back to Isabel's room, Max found himself standing on the
front step of their house, staring into the golden dawn of morning. He didn't know how long he had been staring
out at the cluttered horizon, with its trees, houses and the unimpressive
slopes, beyond their little town of
Clutched underneath his slender
fingers was a thin black book he had found on the kitchen floor, next to
Isabel's tan coat. Max had been
compelled to pick it up, as he strode by.
His previous reaction to the 'prophetic' writings was less than
appealing; there was just something about its intensity that seemed to cut to
the heart of the matter, which was why he hadn't opened its pages again.
"So this is it," he
muttered under his breath as he gazed out at the calmness of the morning. "I'm in it; no matter what I want, I'm
always going to be in it."
Max knew it was time for him to
settle this once and for all. He was confronting
the strongest opponent he had met yet; here, this day, and he would not
sidestep the proclaimed destiny, which had plagued him since Tess'
arrival. Now the time had come. In fact, he might have waited too long, he
didn't know; but he had to reconcile his life and destiny before it destroyed
those he loved.
'No excuses anymore.'
Max looked down at sidewalk, which
ran parallel to the Evans' house, and saw himself, a few years older than he
was now, waiting expectantly. "You
again," he said out loud, taking no care about the possibility of light
sleepers amidst his neighborhood.
'Yes, me, or should I say you?'
"You're not me. If you were, you wouldn't be standing
here." Max swallowed hard,
unconsciously clutching the leather-bound book closer to his side, and narrowed
his eyes. "I'm tired of fighting
and telling everyone, 'I don't know', grappling with this unceasing question
that continues to haunt me."
'Well then, stop.'
He stood there, as if urging him to make the first move. 'Only you can end this Max.'
"If I could, why haven't
I?" he exclaimed irritably.
"I've tried."
'You know why,' Zan said
knowingly. 'But now, you know time is
running out. This does not have to be
condemnation - you can choose to be free.'
His vague and frustrating insights
were slowly wearing at Max's patience.
He just wanted plain and simple English.
He needed instructions about what to do.
He needed someone to tell him what he was doing was right.
'It doesn't work that way.' He answered Max's unvoiced thoughts. 'There are no direct orders, Max. You cannot be forced into this. It is your choice.'
"What kind of a choice is
this?" Max yelled at himself.
"Of course I'm being forced into doing this. I can't eat, sleep, or live a normal
life! How can I, when I'm an
alien?" He threw his hands up in
the air. "This is some twisted idea
of choice. I can't live my life with
Liz, not when the fact of being with her could result in my death. Hell, I can't even get away with living on
Earth without the military or some government agency hunting me down. You tell me what kind of a choice that
is?" His breath was ragged from
screaming.
Zan remained unphased.
'Still, Max, it is a choice.' He paused.
'It results in less than a fairytale ending, but you can still choose
it.'
Max knew that Zan was speaking the
truth. He could choose to remain on
Earth and have nothing to do with Antar, leaving hundreds of millions of people
to be slaughtered. But again, how did he
know that his choice made a difference?
'You have only to say yes, and find
out.'
Max felt his blood rush through his
veins, and his muscles tense in apprehension.
How could he choose this life?
How could it make him happy?
Suddenly his breath became shallow and his head began to hurt. His heart was racing, and Max was doubled
over from a pain in his side.
'Choose Max,' Zan's voice called
soothingly. 'Say yes and allow yourself
to have peace. We just want peace.'
Max closed his eyes, trying to
regulate his breathing, taking deep breaths and slowly forcing the air
out. His right hand clutched at his
chest, as it tightened; and as a reoccurring stabbing pain began, still
clutched in his other hand was the black leather book. Max knelt onto one knee, hoping to catch his
breath. "Why are you doing this to
me?" he gasped in pain.
'I'm not doing anything.'
"Then why can't I
breathe?" He took a sharp intake of
breath and choked on the intangible element of life, coughing, as his side
began to spasm. "This is what you
call 'choice'?" He looked up at
Zan, who tilted his head somberly and sighed.
'Do you really think I can cause
this?' He shook his head warily. 'Max,
you're having an anxiety attack. I can't
start or stop it, only you can.'
Max swallowed, breathing in through
his nose and out through his mouth.
"An anxiety attack?"
Zan nodded. 'Yes.
Otherwise known as a panic attack?'
Max suddenly felt the pain subside
and the revelation sink in. "I'm
making myself do this?"
Zan nodded again.
Max closed his eyes and took a deep
breath and calmed himself, telling himself to breathe. Suddenly he felt his body return to normal
and his heart pumping at a reasonable rate.
As he pushed himself up, Max met Zan's gaze, and ran his fingers through
his hair.
'I told you,' Zan said dryly.
"I'm never going to be at peace
with this, am I?" Max said, resigned.
'It depends what your answer is,'
Zan said quietly. 'Will you stand before
all that is evident and clear, and tell yourself that you don't belong back on
Antar?'
Max licked his lips and sighed. "I don't know."
'That's not an acceptable answer
anymore, Maxwell," he rebuked. 'You
know that as well as I do.'
Max nodded reluctantly. Choose destiny? He weighed that thought in his mind - images
of his life before flashed before his eyes: pictures of his mother and father,
Ava, Vilandra, Rath/Michael, and a thousand voices calling to him - and found
himself comforted, and a sudden peace came over him. Max slowly lowered himself to the ground,
sitting on the front step of his house.
Or Earth?
At the thought of turning his back
on those strong memories, which he suddenly recalled, his heart began to race a
little, and Max felt his palms begin to sweat.
'Have you made your choice?'
Max looked out towards Zan, whose
face was shrouded in a sharp blinding ray of light. He looked up and saw the reddish golden globe
had climbed out from the shadowed veil of trees and houses. As he blocked the sun's rays with his arm,
which held the book, Max slowly pushed himself off of the step and approached
the man, who stood several feet away from him.
"And if I say yes, then what will happen?" Max asked
uncertainly, as he closed the gap between this vision of the past. "What will you say? What will you do?" When he reached the sidewalk, Max stood face
to face with the troubling voice within his spirit.
'Then I would reach out like
this.' Zan held out his right hand towards
Max.
Max glanced down at his hand, and
then back up at Zan. He hesitantly
reached out and pressed his hand into the waiting hand of the man, who had, in
the past, only been a figment of his imagination, and felt him squeeze his
hand. Then with an unexpected jerk of
his hand, Zan pulled Max into an embrace.
'You will make a great king,' he
whispered into Max's ear.
Max blinked once and found himself
standing alone at the edge of his parents' manicured lawn. He scanned his surroundings in stunned
confusion. What had just happened?
Max looked up into the sky, which
was clear, without a cloud in the horizon.
The sun enveloped him in its' warm light. As he stood there, Max searched within, for
the permeating doubt that had always lingered in his heart, but found
none. He closed his eyes and took a deep
breath, exhaling slowly, turning on his heel and setting his gaze upon the
Evans' house. He felt at rest. The decision had been made.
Let me be a great king.
~~~
Michael slept fitfully, as dreams
and memories surrounded him, and he began to see once again through his predecessor's
eyes.
"Do you promise to stop teasing
me?" Vilandra pouted, pointing irritably at Rath/Michael/Michael.
"What do you mean?"
Rath/Michael exclaimed in feigned innocence.
"I don't tease you. You're
just 'sensitive'."
Vilandra's jaw dropped in mock disbelief
and she curled her slender fingers into a fist and hit him in the
shoulder. "Take that back!"
she laughed.
"Or you'll what?"
Rath/Michael retorted, raising his eyebrow mischievously. He nudged her shoulder with his index finger.
Vilandra sat on the terrace railing
silently, unable to respond to his challenge.
Rath/Michael smirked gleefully and slid off the marble railing,
positioning himself in front of the frustrated and speechless teenage girl, and
planted his feet, folding his arms across his chest in triumph. "Chasser got your tongue,
Princess?"
A blue glimmer flashed within her
round dark brown eyes, as she locked gazes with him. Vilandra narrowed her eyes and growled. "You think you're so great, but wait
till I tell mother about the plether torch you put in the seekers'
classroom," she threatened; a slow satisfied expression emerged from her
once sour face. "I bet Instructor
Casher would be interested in that little bit of information. He's been running around the school
interrogating every student he can find."
Rath/Michael furrowed his brow and
shook his head. "You wouldn't
dare!" He moved in, grasping her
wrists, and struggled mildly to keep Vilandra from escaping. She wriggled under his grip and
shrieked. "Let me go."
"Not until you swear that you
will not tell Instructor Casher about the plether torch," he exclaimed
breathily, as her struggle intensified.
"Now swear!"
Vilandra stopped struggling for a
brief moment and glared defiantly at him.
"You wish!" she gasped, and resumed waging her battle with the
overgrown boy. "Now let me
go!"
Rath/Michael smirked. He shrugged, letting go of her wrists and
laughed, "As you wish, Your Highness."
Vilandra jerked back in the instance
Rath/Michael let her go. Her glistening
golden locks cushioned her defined facial features, as she listlessly fell
backwards, off the terrace. Rath/Michael
watched in horror as the hem of Vilandra's pastel vanished out of sight. He rushed to the railing and peered over to
see Vilandra free falling towards the shimmering canvas of purple. Her frightened scream pierced Rath/Michael's
heart as he saw her arms reaching towards him.
"Vilandra!" he cried in
terror. Rath/Michael's eyes widened as
her flailing body was enveloped by the sea of purple. The eastern terrace overlooked the Royal
pool, which thankfully had been filled earlier that morning. He made a mad dash into the palace and bound
down the cascading staircase, two or three steps at a time. There were several Royal guards crowded
around the edge of the pool, as well as two in the swimming pool. Rath/Michael pushed passed the guards, who
surrounded the scene of the accident.
"Is she all right?" He
jumped into the pool and made his way towards Vilandra's body. The water level came up to his lips.
Rath/Michael reached out and wrested
Vilandra from the possession of the two guards.
He looked down and saw her sickly pale face - eyes closed and her lips a
pasty purple hue. "Vilandra,"
he whispered into his ear as he swam towards the edge of the pool. "Hold on." As he climbed onto the hard poolside, gently
lifting Vilandra onto a dark blue towel, which had been laid by one of the
observing guards, Rath/Michael brushed back her long, damp hair.
Staring down at her lifeless form,
all things faded from around him, until all that remained was Vilandra. The guards who hovered around them
disappeared and Rath/Michael was left with his beloved. He tilted her head back and breathed life
into her body, while pumping the unwanted water from her lungs. The cycle continued, without a reaction from
Vilandra's unconscious body.
Rath/Michael felt his heart weigh with anxiety and urgency at the fading
minutes that past. He closed his eyes
and let out a helpless cry.
When Rath/Michael opened his eyes,
his gaze looked out towards the serene purple waters, which was empty. "Come on," he whispered, as he
looked down upon his closest friend and confidante. "Don't leave me."
As he was about to return to his
life saving measures, Rath/Michael became aware of an unexpected, shadowed form
floating beneath the surface of the water.
Michael stood up, intrigued by the dark shadow. As he stood, Michael looked down and found
Rath was still knelt beside Vilandra's body, preparing to continue CPR on his
soon-to-be-betrothed. Michael felt a
sudden pull towards the water's edge.
The form floated a few feet out from
the poolside. Michael glanced briefly
behind him, at Rath and his desperate pleas for Vilandra's awakening, before
turning his attention to the masked figure in front of him.
He identified the slim, svelte form
as a woman. He slowly slid into the warm
pool and strode towards the head of the lifeless body. Once he grasped the arm of the unknown woman,
Michael floated the body towards him. As
the arms and torso floated passed him, the cold, white, face was hidden behind
short reddish brown hair, plastered over her eyes. Michael felt his heart beating faster and his
hands begin to tremble. Taking a deep
breath, he brushed aside the auburn hair, when suddenly his attention was
distracted by loud shouting.
"Thank you!" Rath cried,
pressing Vilandra's head against his chest.
Michael watched as he showered her with kisses, while she slowly became
aware of her surroundings.
"She's okay!" he cried out
happily. As Rath helped Vilandra up,
newcomers to the scene rushed towards the injured princess. King Alaric and Queen Fadilia hovered
anxiously over their daughter, escorting her into the palace, alongside Rath.
Michael smiled, relieved at the
outcome of the situation. He turned back
to the woman in front of him and finished brushing the hair from her face. As his thumb caressed the smooth, pale cheek
of the mystery woman, his heart suddenly skipped a beat.
It was Isabel.
He hunched over her body in shock,
clutching her with his right arm around her waist and his left arm holding her
up from underneath.
"Isabel?"
Michael felt her body begin to sink,
like someone had begun to attach weights to her lifeless body. He scrambled to pull her out of the thick
waters, but found himself unable to move her.
He cupped her serene face, silently willing her to wake up. "Come on Isabel..." Suddenly her face slipped from his grasp and
he watched in abject horror, as she sunk underneath the pale purple waters, out
from sight.
"NO!" he gasped, awaking
in his bed. Michael searched frantically
around the dark room for any signs of Isabel, or the images that he had just
dreamt.
Had they been real?
"Isabel," he said breathily,
running his fingers through his soaking wet hair.
Something was wrong; he felt it in
his gut. Isabel was in danger, and there
was nothing he could do about it.
~~~
"He has begun his attack,"
General Steren said solemnly, as he stood beside Queen Fadilia.
"On what fronts?"
"He's engaged our troops at
Puden, the Plains of Caldor, and in the south, at Gorga Dea, as we suspected he
would, when we arrived." General
Steren lit the areas of battle with a press of a button. "We are holding strong for now. The Guilians have bolstered our
numbers," he added.
"Why have we excluded Commander
Ra...Michael, and also Tess?" Fadilia asked suspiciously.
The General sighed. "This is just the beginning. We cannot trouble them with the minor
squabbles, which are only there to serve as distractions for our troops,"
he explained. "Our true focus will
be," he pushed a blue glowing button, "here."
Fadilia looked up to find the
General had pulled up a map of the region of Saren Dari. She frowned.
It was a barren plain; nothing but sand for hundreds of miles. Fadilia glanced over at General Steren. "What is this?" She motioned to the green grid-like map.
"We have reason to believe that
Khivar's weapon is being built here."
The General looked up gravely at the satellite uplink, which surveyed
the entirety of Saren Dari. One of their
best agents risked his life for this information. He had been captured after the drop off and
he hadn't heard from the loyal Kedran since.
"So we are going to raid the
base?"
The General exhaled slowly. "We have had some other intel about
Saren Dari and the project," he said uneasily. "Khivar has sent Andaria, Zander, and Medgio
there."
Fadilia tensed at the news of her
close friends' move. "Do you know
why?"
General Steren shook his head
unhappily. "No. We have no idea what Khivar has in store for
them," he replied stoically.
"Well then we'd better find
out, shouldn't we?" Tess stated, entering unannounced.
General Steren bowed to the Queen
and stepped aside as Tess moved in for a closer look at the suspected holding
base of her son and mother. "We are
planning the mission at this moment, Your Highness."
"And does that include
me?" Tess asked darkly.
General Steren frowned. "Your Highness, that would be an
extremely risky move. It wouldn't be
prudent at all."
Tess spun around and gazed
unwaveringly at the General. "And
how logical do you think I am when it comes to my family, General Steren?"
she rebuked. "They have my mother
and my son as you said, and it will be a cold day in hell before I let another
thing happen to either of them. I've
been held back because it wasn't the 'right time', or 'someone's life was in
danger' - well it's payback time."
Fadilia noted her daughter-in-law's
steady and resolute tone when speaking about her involvement in the
rescue. She understood the restless and
frustrated emotions that waged within Tess' soul and spirit. No one could have convinced her to run and
hide when Khivar attacked her family, but her son saw to it that she was unable
to protest, having her drugged and taken away.
"I don't think that is
wise," General Steren said tersely.
"Well it doesn't matter what
you think," Tess spat. She glanced
briefly at Fadilia, as if seeking her support.
"I am going on that mission, if it's the last thing I
do."
"Exactly my point,"
General Steren growled. "It cannot
be the last thing you do!"
"What else would you have her
do, General?" Fadilia interrupted the debate. "She will face Khivar, and God willing,
with my son at her side. How much more
difficult and dangerous will this mission be?" she countered.
General Steren tensed at the direction
of this conversation. "We have
capable men to oversee this mission, Your Highnesses," he explained
calmly. "Commander Michael will
lead the expedition."
"Then you should have no qualm
with my decision," Tess reasonably argued.
"And with both, Michael and I, there, you should be twice more at
ease."
General Steren opened his mouth to
protest when the entranceway opened once again, revealing Michael's full
stature. "I guess no one else could
sleep either," he quipped dryly.
"What's going on here?" he
asked uncertainly. "One of the
servant guys told me I could find you in here." He entered the room cautiously.
"Commander Michael,"
General Steren sighed irascibly.
"Would you not agree that Queen Tess should remain hidden in the
confines of the mountain?"
Michael glanced between the three
strong-willed individuals.
"Yes," he replied.
"She would probably be safer..."
Tess let out an exasperated
cry. "How can you say that?"
she yelled angrily.
Michael held up his hand, signaling
Tess to be quiet. "Let me
finish." He turned back to General
Steren, who looked skeptically at Michael.
"But Tess is the strongest, most powerful aliens I've ever
encountered. And if she's mad, there's
no telling what will happen," Michael added, glancing back at Tess, whose
expression changed to gratitude.
"If I want anyone to fight by my side, it would be Tess."
General Steren was speechless. He looked dejected and irritable.
Fadilia gazed understandingly at her
close confidante. "Have faith
General Steren, the One has a Plan," she said soothingly. "They will not be harmed."
General Steren looked warily at
Fadilia's words of encouragement and glanced up at Michael and Tess. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "You will join the mission." He glanced back at Fadilia, who nodded
approvingly, and groaned. "I was
only thinking of your safety, Your Highness."
Tess nodded slowly. "I understand, General Steren," she
said appreciatively. "But I need to
do this."
General Steren and Tess locked gazes
and an understanding passed between them.
"Well then, let's begin."
~~~
"What do you think he's up to,
General?" the Captain asked, as they stood before the stasis unit, which
held Princess Vilandra.
The General thoughtfully tapped his
finger against his bottom lip.
"He'll come for them."
"But how? The human has no memory of this place."
The General smiled wickedly. "If he looks hard enough, he'll see we
made a 'mistake' while erasing the humanoid's memory," he muttered under
his breath. "If the King has
regained a minute amount of his powers, he'll know where we are."
The Captain began to chuckle at the
underhanded scheme of the General's, although he wasn't aware of the
secret. "You're so clever,
General."
"Don't be such a suck up,
Captain Liesner," the General growled irritably. The words stored, in the humanoid mind, was
useful when expressing insults to his subordinates. He quite rather enjoyed it.
"Yes Sir."
The General folded his arms across
his chest and turned to the Captain.
"Ready the troops, it's only a matter of time before the 'Great
King' arrives," he said confidently.
"And we wouldn't want to welcome him with anything less than he
deserves, right Captain?"
The dark, stooping Hispanic captain
nodded eagerly. "Oh
definitely. His Majesty will be so
pleased with your easy victory."
The General waved the captain off,
and turned his focus back to the other Royal he had captured with such
ease. As the corners of his lips curled
into a victorious smirk, he tilted his head and clasped his hands
together. One against so many...it
almost doesn't seem fair. A low
rumble emitted from the pit of his stomach and rose up into his throat, until
it reached his lips and a dark and maniacal laugh filled the room.
Almost.