Twisted Retribution

Chapter Thirty-Eight - Open Wounds.

They were half way to the rebel city and this would be the only stop they would make, when the sun rose the next morning they would not rest until every rebel was dead in the earth, or until they were slain themselves.

Bestia's Queen used this time to sharpen up her combat skills, her forty odd years out of it had left her somewhat rusty. Well, she doubted that it was the time that had put her in this position, more due to her lack of flesh. Yet she didn't want to think of that being the problem, her loss of beauty was still a sensitive subject.

Despite that she couldn't feel the pain, any pain at all, her lack of muscle in some places made her movements jerky to say the least. It left her relying heavily on her right arm to direct her broadsword, which worked best with both arms moving in cooperation.

As she sparred with one of the trainers, she was pleasantly surprised to find she held her own well enough, in the sense that against a handful of rebels, victory was assured. Of course it was nothing compare to what she used to be, though it hardly bothered her.

Their session finished, Serina took her seat, on the ground – something the old tiger would never have done – and went about sharpening her weapon. To her left, Jekaulten sat silently, almost as if he were having an internal conversation with himself.

"The work you done on the constructs really is amazing," she commented, breaking him free of his trance. Two of the huge metallic beasts stood a little way from her position ready to jump to her defence if she was in any true danger. The other two prowled around the outskirts of the mass amount of Beastans camped out in the open, Serina could just about make out their slinky shadowed forms in the distance.

Jekaulten gave her a grin, it was the most savage looking expression Bestia's Queen had ever seen him wear. "My appreciation at your kind words," he responded. As he stared at her a moment longer, it seemed as if anger clouded his eyes, "My condolences again for your loss, know I will pay your troublesome son back tenfold."

Serina chortled at him, "You? Jekaulten, you'll enact Ragnohl's punishment?"

The panther didn't seem hurt by her mockery in the least, an amused smile played on his lips, "Looks can always be deceiving, amongst many other things."

Regardless of the lack of expression she could show, Serina did manage to convey a look of incomprehension, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't misjudge my capabilities Serina, you've been doing it for years."

"I do not, you've been a valuable asset to both me and your Beastanic brothers and sisters."

The small Beastan chuckled, "You still refuse to take my warning. I shall try no more." With that, the panther got up and moved further into the encampment, leaving a very baffled Serina in his wake.

He was running out of options, no, he had run out of options.

Scott was so alone with no one to turn to. His brother was pissed again, the rest of his council would absolutely freak if they found out their home had been infiltrated by the most powerful Beastan alive, not to mention all of the weapons and defences his rebels now carried that were created by the mongrel... Scott couldn't just go around taking the items off them without arousing suspicion. Yet if he left them in their hands, would they simultaneously combust? Is that what the mongrel had set up to do?

More to the point – what the hell had Aaron been thinking letting the blasted fiend help out anyway, or even keeping him alive for that matter. Everyone had believed the Beastan dead!

Earlier that day, they had had a survivor of Souram come running to them. The poor woman had told Scott of the devastation. Scott had reason to believe the same fate had befallen the other towns as well, just they had no one left alive to relay a message.