𝐀 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘 - Cinderella AU

XXXV - not while i need you around

xxxv.

"YOUR MAJESTY, THEY ARE TURNING AWAY," THE SENIOR general of the Angrian army shouted over the slashing of swords against shields and the booms of the army canons repeatedly going off, masking the comparatively submissive sounds of the minute bullet shots from the soldiers leaning on their rifles for the fight. 

King Alexander Casimir breathed heavily as he stopped, his sword held tight in his right hand as his back throbbed from the slash he had received from one of the beast's sharp tusks, before the very beast had succumbed to The King's sword, it's head cleanly sliced off its body as it rolled away to its macabre freedom amongst the soldiers feet. 

Zander couldn't pinpoint when exactly the fight had started, or how long he had been fighting. The muscles in his body were numb, his and breaths were coming in harsh, but he was master of his body and his anger, and thus nothing was holding him back. Nothing could hold him back once the beasts had suddenly started pouring over the border, baring their tusks and giant tree trunk sized logs to bare as their weapons. Their advance had been haphazard and without any military control, as though the threads holding them in place and in position had finally snapped, making them run free in their anger and restlessness, each creature united in nothing but their power and fury. 

By the way they killed, tearing across every man that came in their way—knocking them away like they were but chess pieces on a board game, it had made Zander feel as though the creatures had bottled fury for everything and everyone, not just the Angrian army or the Kingdoms in particular. These were animals, and one look at them would betray the fact that they were only there because of someone's control. Ferdinand had taken advantage of the beasts' restlessness and anger, and he had molded it to fit his own. 

Zander hadn't had time to dwell more on them, for his every thought had then went into the fight and his men. He had blocked everything else out. He had blocked the twisting and bleeding of his own heart out, for if he listened to it even for a second, it would remind him of his wife, who was probably in the hands of the enemy Ferdinand, alone and hurt. Her safety depended on him overtaking the enemy. Her survival depended on him ridding the lands of the Heraum—wiping away their threat and reducing the sixth fairy to the scum he had previously been without the patronage of his fellow fairies and of any King from all the lands. 

King Alexander Casimir had had to assign two fairies to search for his wife and for Ferdinand's hiding place—or rather, those two fairies had convinced him to let them make the search so that he could focus on fighting the Heraum army at the border. Zander hadn't wanted to do anything without making sure Isa was found safe and sound, he had wanted to search for her himself. But what the fuck would he bring her back to if he did that? A fallen Angrian army without their King to lead them into battle? Angrian lands ravaged by the Heraum, trampled underneath their beastly feet? 

Isadora would hate him if he did that. She would hate him if he let anything happen to his people. She wouldn't forgive him if he gave up on them for search of her, so Zander had decided to do both. He would butcher those two fairies himself if they returned from the search without his wife. He would impale their heads on pikes and mount them on the boundary walls of his palace, he would eviscerate them if anything happened to his wife and Queen. The death he was giving to the Heraum coming under his sharpened blade was merciful compared to what he would do to the fairies he had sent in pursuit of Ferdinand and where the damn sorcerer was keeping Isadora. The King of Angria had hoped to find the sorcerer on the battle field and gorge the information out of him, but alas, the man was a fucking coward. 

"Your majesty!" The senior army general shouted again. "The enemy is retreating! Do we have orders for pursuit?" 

Sure enough, Zander came to his present senses and realized the scarcity of beasts around him. The dead amongst them lay on the ground, but the ones still living and merely injured by either canon, bullets, or swords, had their backs to the Angrian army, their forms growing smaller in vision as their feet pounded against the ground and they started running away, abandoning their dead and spoils.