A Game of Chi Book I: A Crown of Blood

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

The lion turned when he heard the messenger call his name. "Lothar!" shouted the red-maned lion, running towards Lothar with a rolled piece of parchment in his hand. "I have a message."

"For whom?" Lothar asked, taking it. Lothar was in the courtyard of the Lion Temple, the home of the noble Lion Tribe family whom he protected. He was behind the large lion's head entrance of the temple; however, the yellow sandstone from which it was built was still visible throughout the structure. Lothar was standing in front of a deep pool of water, admiring the fish swimming through. Behind him, trees and benches were scattered about; while normally more lions would be wandering the courtyard, the late hour meant that Lothar was alone. "For Lennox, sir," the lion replied. Frowning, Lothar turned the scroll over. "It says it's for Lord Lennox," he read. "Did something happen to Lord Lagravis?" The messenger shrugged. "I don't know, sir," he replied. "But the croc who delivered it to me said it was urgent."

"A croc?"

"Yeah," the lion replied. "It's from the Citadel, but they normally send lions to us anyway. I didn't ask why they sent him." Lothar nodded and began heading to the atrium, where Lennox always was at this hour. "Thank you," he said politely as he walked away.

Lothar was a lion of a moderate build; he wore the traditional golden lion armour and blue kilt. His mane was a warm brown, and he wore no crown to keep his mane well coiffed. It stayed tidy on its own. He carried a spear and a shield with him at all times; after all, as one of Lennox' sworn guards, he could never be too vigilant. While Longtooth was guarding Lennox now, Lothar was always prepared to help fight against possible threats. Walking through the halls of the Lion Temple, Lothar thought back to when Lennox had made Lothar his guard. The two had been raised together and were virtually brothers; they had played and laughed beside each other for as long as either could remember. I still remember that day, four years ago, Lothar thought wistfully. It was just after my sixteenth birthday. By Cavora, I can remember going up to Lennox afterwards and asking him— no, telling him. Telling him how I felt about him. "I know you probably don't want to hear this," Lothar had begun saying. He and Lennox had been in the atrium, relaxing after a day of combat training. "But you need to know."

"Sure. What's up?" Lennox had answered coolly. The heir to the Gilded Plains had already looked the part, even four years ago. His brown mane and light goatee contrasted nicely with the gold and blue of his armour and kilt, and he was well built for his age. He had his father's handsome features and his mother's kind, warm eyes. "I..." Lothar had sighed. "I like you," he had said finally. Lennox had laughed. "Same here, Lothar. You're my best friend. Of course I like you too." Damn it, Lothar had thought. "Not... not like that, Lennox," he had corrected. "Like, uh, like you and Lyra." Lennox had stopped laughing. "You're serious?" Lothar had nodded, and Lennox' expression had hardened slightly. "Listen, I know that you don't want to hear that. A normal lion wouldn't anyway, but you're the heir to the Lion Tribe. Even if you... felt the same way, you'd never be able to..." Lothar had sighed. "I'm rambling. I'm sorry, I—" Lennox had put his hand on Lothar's shoulder. "Hey. You're right, I don't think about you the way you think of me. And that's fine." Lothar had felt his eyes watering. "To me, you'll always be my best friend. If you're uncomfortable..." Lothar had shaken his head. "It's alright. It really is. That's... probably the best answer I could have expected, honestly." Lennox had chuckled. "Well, the second best answer, eh?" It had been at that moment that Lothar knew that he and Lennox would be friends, nothing more. At least he's still talking to me, Lothar remembered thinking. Thank Cavora for that.

Two years later, Lennox had been wed to Lyra, the lioness of his dreams. Lennox' mother, Leona, had encouraged the match; not only was her son infatuated with her, but she was kind and selfless and beloved by the rest of the tribe. The Gods of Cavora had smiled on them that night, for their wedding had been a beautiful affair. Lothar had been called to be Lennox' ring-bearer; as his best friend, it was only customary for him to do so. Lyra had worn a flowing white dress, embroidered with golden lions and blue orbs. The dress had been made to look as if it simply faded into the ground with its slow transition from white to black at the end of its skirt. Lyra herself had been and still was beautiful, even by Lothar's standards. She had large, curious eyes, and soft golden fur. A dimple often appeared on her left cheek, and a small tuft of fur was always sticking up near her forehead. Not at her wedding night, though. Her attendants had seen to that. However, it was how Lennox looked that Lothar remembered more clearly. The heir to the Gilded Plains had his mane nicely coiffed and held back with a bright gold crown, which was unusual for him. He had taken off his armour and worn a flowing blue cloak, and underneath he had worn a set of golden chainmail which had belonged to his father. His goatee had begun to grow more, and it was visible even at a distance. He had radiated confidence. He still did. "I just wish Father was here for this," Lennox had told him during the feast. The tables had been filled with meat and vegetables, a rare indulgence for the carnivores, and their cups were almost overflowing with wine. After Lennox and Lyra had been wed they had danced, as had most of the guests. Lothar, however, had no one to dance with — at least until Lady Leona had offered. That had made him happy. "Your father is busy in the Citadel, doing important things," Lothar had assured him. "I know, I know," Lennox had responded, his fur damp with sweat from the dancing."But he needs to put himself first, sometimes. All that work will kill him! And Laval too, by Cavora. He's only fourteen!" Lennox and Lothar had laughed and drank until Lyra had come to take Lennox away for the night. "Thanks for looking after him," she had said kindly. Lothar had nodded and had fixed himself another drink.