Twisted Retribution

Prolouge.

"Sir, they're here!"

"Who's here?" Bailey growled back, pulling his eyes away from the papers on his desk.

"The Beastans Sir," the scout stammered, almost tripping over his words with fear but obviously trying, and failing, to keep respect in his tone as he addressed his better.

"What!" the rebel leader almost fell from his chair. "How many? A minor skirmish?"

"A whole army Sir, with their leader... uhh... leading."

Bailey slammed a fist on the desk and sprung to his feet, "Shit," he rubbed a hand over his weathered face, "They're at the gates?"

"Not as of yet Sir, give a couple of minutes and they will be."

"What forces do we have in defence already?"

"The usual guard, but the other scouts are rousing the rest of our men as we speak, in mere minutes we should have the full might of the rebels ready to defend our home."

Bailey growled and began to march out of his office, "that's not going to be fast enough!" he cried over his shoulder, pushing through the front doors of the council chambers as he did. They had no hope and Bailey knew it, for all these years, the Beastans hadn't been able to break them. Now when they finally did, it had to be under Bailey's rule. Just his luck. Once out in the open air, he could hear the howls and war cries of the Beastans in the distance, the scout had been right, they only had a few minutes left to live. "Where is my son? Have you seen him?" Bailey asked the scout, who had fallen into step behind him.

"Which one Sir, Scott or Aaron?"

"Aaron, of course," Bailey responded curtly. Unfortunately, it was Scott they ran into first.

"Father, they're here, what do we do?" the elder son chewed on his lip, an obvious panic-stricken look on his face. He made Bailey ashamed.

"Get out my way," the rebel leader barked, shoving Scott roughly to the side, "If you want to do something useful, find your brother."

Scott swallowed the lump in his throat and scurried after his father, "He's on the wall Sir."

"Good," Bailey muttered, picking up his pace. The three men climbed the makeshift steps to the top, when they looked out, Bailey's worst fears came true. The Beastans, the rebels' most hated enemies, covered the land as far as Bailey could see; their beastly faces turned into gleeful smiles, their weapons raised high in the air. Each and every one of them made some sort of animalistic snarl or roar. Bailey swore. Another few seconds and they'd be at the gates, another few seconds and rebels would start dying left, right and centre.

"For the rebels!" came a cry, all three men turned to see Aaron, Bailey's youngest son, charge, and almost jump off the wall into the sea of massing Beastans.

Bailey grabbed him by the arm, halting his momentum, "Idiot! If you die who will lead the rebels after me?"

Aaron arched an eyebrow and his eyes flittered in Scott's direction.

"Don't be a fool," Bailey hissed. He spun back to face the rest of his city and saw the remaining portion of the rebel forces running for the gate, "Open it!" Bailey yelled at the gatemen, we're all going to die anyway, he thought, but didn't say aloud.

The Beastans and rebel forces had clashed, and blood was shed, mostly human blood. The Beastans' leader Maverick hovered above in the air, directing them, keeping aloft through mighty beats of the huge wings sprouting from his back. "Cut them down," he bellowed, his inhuman eyes briefly met with Bailey's, as if offering a challenge.

"Get a net," Bailey demanded, "A bloody big one," the scout nodded and rushed off.

Over the next few minutes, the Beastans neither gained ground, but neither did they lose any. Each rebel that was slain was swiftly replaced by another, but Bailey was running out of men, and quickly.

"Archersss, light them up!" Maverick roared.

Hundreds of flaming arrows were shot out over the battlefield and into the rebel's home. Those fires began to eat away at anything they could latch onto, the city the rebels had worked so hard to build began to crumble to ash.

"Get men to work on putting those fires out," Bailey snarled at his eldest son, trusting that even a wretched disappointment like him couldn't mess that up.

As Scott hurried off, the scout and several other men came running up with the net that Bailey had commanded. "What are you waiting for? Throw it out, catch the mongrel," the rebel leader commanded, adding his own might as they hauled the netting out over the wall. With a huge amount of effort, and sheer luck, they captured the Beastan leader within. Maverick howled and writhed but freedom eluded him.

Then they had him over the wall and into the rebel city. Without Maverick directing his forces, the battle grew more scattered and evened out slightly.

But then, somehow, the world around them exploded. None of the rebels were sure what it was but it made the walls tremble and it wiped out a solid two thirds of the Beastan population. Calls of retreat were sounded, and those Beastans that survived fled. The explosion that rocked the wall was so violent that Bailey was flung from his position. He landed, impaled through the chest on a Beastan spear. His last breath, hindered by blood.

The battle that had only lasted for a few minutes was finished there and then. Ending in silence.