Throne of the Beasts ✔️

Unbound

I saw myself from somewhere above, viewing the bloody mess. It splattered on Caroline's hands when she stabbed Alfred, which got smeared on the wood block that she used to wipe her hands. I wanted to be furious, but I couldn't. Matter of fact, I couldn't feel at all.

As I floated higher, I saw a massive army charging towards the camp in a massively organized fashion. They were also heavily armored, with swords and guns and massive predatory animals. Following close behind them was Henry, dressed in the garb of a general, his scars adding to his ruthless, valiant appearance.

Suddenly, as they were about to reach the gates, I was sucked back into my physical body, red substance still lingering in my mouth. I spat it out, and got on my hands and knees. I was shaking violently as pressure behind my eyes built up slowly and decreased at the same rate. My ears were ringing and I was severely lightheaded, but despite that I jumped to my feet to face the two.

They had gone, left without a trace; even Turi was gone. A loud bang rang out, followed by a startled shout, which descended into chaos. I peeked outside, my eyes gracing the bloody battle, but though gruesome, I couldn't look away. A limp hand landed beside me as the dead body of a man fell, dropping his weapons.

If I were to get out alive, I would need as much protection I could get. I fastened the broadsword to my waist and, with little skill or grace, cocked the revolver from his other hand. I looked for more bullets as he had only left me with two in the chamber. Taking a quick glance around me to confirm the coast was clear, I searched his body and quickly found his ammo pouch, stowed under his limp body.

I guessed how to reload it based on the quick observation of those in the fight, and with that, I ventured into battle. No one took notice immediately of my presence, which was good, but as more were slain, the more attention was given to me. I couldn't tell which side he was on when he struck the back of my head with the pommel of his sword, but it became apparent that he was not on the side I was on. I fell to the ground facing him.

He swung his sword sloppily, giving me a chance to dodge it and get up. While he was dislodging the blade from the ground. He unholstered his firearm and cocked it with a finger. Giving up on the sword, he took aim with difficulty. I could tell he was young and mostly inexperienced in his mannerisms and the way he caught, though I wasn't much better either.

He shot, missing his target, and hitting his own man behind me. He grumbled in frustration as I raised my gun and swiftly fired a shot, grazing his arm. He winced, but fought on. Once more, he raised his gun and fired, missing again. Like clockwork, we exchanged shots until I was partially successful, hitting his shoulder. He dropped his gun and let out a scream, clutching his wound tightly. Though he was vulnerable, I could not kill him. He had a naiveness or innocence to him, and I could tell he was just doing what he was told. With that, I left him.

With many hands trying to grab me on the way, I searched for Henry, which my mind thought seemed to be the only refuge. Instead, I was met with a terrible heat, accompanied with a roaring sound. After many men had fallen, I saw Caroline holding Turi on a makeshift leash, smoke emitting from the wyvern's nostrils.

Its eyes locked on mine, and I instantly bolted in the opposite direction. It stomped after me, the temperature building up again as it reared its head. Overwhelmed with fear, I kept running, even at speeds I thought were impossible, dodging between men and dead bodies. I had reached the gates finally, where Henry stood.

He was impeccable, standing with his legs apart and his hands resting against each other against his abdomen. Not one drop of blood graced his figure, the only visible flaw being the grotesque scars on his face. He gazed analytically into the battle, taking notice of the wyvern.

Two cold hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me back. Biming rested his head on my shoulder, his facial expression unclear. He laughed maniacally as I was pulled further back. I elbowed his nose and he let go, falling to the ground behind me. I turned to face him, drawing my sword. "The gig is up, Biming. You are dead." I uttered angrily.

He was on his knees, cradling his bleeding nose. His eyes looked on to mine, and he put his hands down. He knew he was defeated. That was, until his eyes widened and he let a smile smile rest on his face. I paused, and he said, "Go on, do it already." His tone and face angered me even more until, with one final release, I raised the sword over my shoulder. I swung it swiftly at his throat, his head toppling over followed by the rest of his body. Blood poured everywhere as I stood over his body triumphantly.

The dust settled, and so had many others who had noticed the sudden death of their king. Henry was next to me now, a hand on my shoulder. I shook with the feeling of freedom from some invisible force, breathing deeply what seemed to be fresh, new air.

With satisfaction, as my soul jumped with this new freedom, I had come to realize I had fulfilled my purpose; the prophecy. Oh, the sweet taste of victory.