The Savages

Chapter 24: Disguised Truths

"Father!" Slate's agonised cry was lost over the sound of clashing iron. Teemu had stepped in front of Maddox a moment too late, restricting David's path to the fallen King. "Father, answer me! Please be alive! Please!"

"Slate," the eldest brother spoke in a firm, obstinate tone, turning his head halfway toward the prince, "I know this isn't the easiest thing to see, but there isn't time to grieve. You must take David down now, while you have the chance. Emilia and I can help you, as will the rest of my brothers, but ultimately this responsibility falls to you. You must defend your kingdom."

An array of mixed emotions crossed over his face, the hard features constantly shifting and changing as they struggled to form one singular expression. It was like someone had completely removed the part of Slate's brain responsible for sentiment, damaging him in the exact same fashion as David had damaged Kasperskies. Teemu forced the empathetic thought from his mental space, knowing his rock-solid exterior would falter if he focused too much on his injured brother, and knelt in front of King Maddox's limp figure.

Splayed out around him in an aureole of sleek, tangled dark brown waves was his dull hair, each strand gradually fading to a lighter colour. Teemu wanted to tear his gaze away from the bemusing sight, but he found he was incapable of doing so. For the longest time, he conceived he was trapped inside a dream from which he could not awake, witnessing the once great ruler of Nesery disintegrate from existence right in front of his eyes. The erratic, sturdy beating of his heart remained the only achingly perpetual indication this was indeed his indisputable, heartrending version of reality.

The body of the king began to alter form, as though something diabolic was internally scratching at the surface of its skin. The thick veins cording its arms darkened to black, bulging through pale flesh, and the signature delicate featured face of Maddox was superseded by an inhuman, barely recognisable mask cursed with demon's blood. In an instant, the creature was straddling Teemu, pinning him to the cold, hard floor.

He hastily drew his trusty dagger from the sheath concealed underneath his denim-clad hip, wrapping his long, guitarist's fingers around the angel wing-shaped cross-guard. The creature's arm was raised in an open fist, showcasing five individual sharpened metal claws ready to tear through his skin. His legs were essentially useless to him at that point, restrained by the thing's impressive heftiness. He would be relying solely on his upper body strength, and what he had achieved with it through his various years of training with God's most gentry angels.

"Do it, brother," a patronising snarl slipped past the creature's curled lip. "Kill me. Kill your long-lost, forgotten sibling."

Teemu paused, his blade inches away from penetrating the creature's heart, and met its glowering golden irises, blazing fiercely against pitch black scleras like a reversed solar eclipse in the night sky. His round, oval face was identical to Teemu's, complemented by the same defined jawline and small, bulbous nose. His features — though not flagrantly different to Teemu's — were a lot more lax and calm, almost untouched by age. He didn't seem to be as young as the rest of his brothers, though.

"It's a trick!" Tully's affirmative voice shouted. He was poised behind the nameless creature, knees bent in preparation. What he failed to make up in bulk, he compensated with remarkable speed almost surpassing Stephen's preternatural capabilities. "That has to be Dantalion, the master of physical deception. He can take on the appearance of anyone, male or female. David must have asked for his help."

"As much as I would love to take credit for this, it wasn't my doing," came the voice of The Undead from somewhere close. Then Teemu saw him, ambling along the cracked tiles where bodies of beta clones lay strewn, a noticeable spring in his step. He seemed to be rather joyed by the events unfolding before him, almost as though he were the mastermind behind it all, moving each pawn into place and anticipating the outcome of each action. "So tell us, who are you, imposter?"