4 King of Werewolves

The court is busy.

Hurriedly, I remove the servant's clothes I wore and walked through the halls like the prince I am. My crew trails behind me as if they are my household following me on a procession. The nobles bow to me for they are my subordinates.

I need not announce myself. The centaur guards throw open the double doors to the great hall where my father, the king, sits on his throne. He keeps a merry court filled with his kin of werewolves. Frankly, I hate his manner of rule. He outcasts the other lords of the other kinds instead of asking for their help. If you were to walk into the great hall, you would see the werewolf kin circled around him while the other lords are merely sitting at the end of the great hall as if they are one of the centaur guards.

I walk before him and give my bow to him as my king. My crew behinds me does the same and we rose in unison. Somehow, my king does not even acknowledge me. He merely lets out a short laugh as he continues his talk with his kin about frivolous things. The court is used to seeing him in his gruff true form of furs and claws. Somehow, the crown sits awkwardly at his head for it seems that he is more of the King of Werewolves rather than the King of Fabula, Lord of Mythical Creatures.

When he sees that the crew and I do not move an inch until he is done, he nods to his men and they leave the high table and back to their places.

"What is it?" he says irritably.

"Father, there is something you need to know," I say, loud enough for the entire court to hear.

"Do tell, and speak briskly. I do not want anyone disturbing my meeting with my lords."

I tell my story. I try to recall the horrifying experience down at the village where man tears another man limb from limb, feeding upon him as if he is the dinner feast during a ceremony. As I speak, I cannot rid myself of the horrid experience of seeing that drunkard rise from the dead and join those wicked men in killing an entire village, leaving it filled with blood and corpses.

I look around the whole court as I speak my words. Elves gather amongst themselves as they think carefully about the event. As I look, I can see the movement of the nymphs' lips as they think of songs that can heal those men. As for the vampires, it seems that they laugh wryly as they have found their match. For some reason, my story made the court talk and discuss scholarly amongst themselves. I look back at my father and there I can see him looking blankly.

Suddenly, he began to laugh. He laughed and laughed and laughed as if he is a greater madman than the drunkard. However much I wish to break his amusement, I can't do anything against it. He is the king, however foolish this is.

"And you are seriously worried about a few Undead rising from the grave?" Father says in his amusement as he drinks some water to control his emotion. "My son, this happens all the time. A few hordes go out of hand and it is always easily quelled. From what I heard from you, it seems that you have nothing to be worried about. They're just like vampires. They want to suck the blood out of the living."

I look into Melchior's eyes and I can see his gritted teeth and clenched fist at this reply. Father stroke a nerve. As I take Melchior's clenched fist into my hand and open them, he brushes it off and points at Father with his index finger as he makes his statement.

"My king, they are a grave threat and I highly take offense for your comparison of my hordes to the ruthless undead!" Melchior exclaims frankly. "I have seen the eyes of those men as if they would eat me whole. Had I not cut one with my dagger, I would have been amongst them as well."

Father somehow takes it easy with Melchior's words. He cannot see Melchior's words as a threat to him at all. "The undead men are easy to deal with. Worry not, Lord Melchior. With our speed and strength, we can easily defeat them."

"My king, you speak true, but you are thinking too highly of yourself and the army."

"I have the right. I have quelled many rebellions before. This is not the first one. This one will be easy. "

"You say it is easy? Prove it!"

With that, the court fell silent. I take in Melchior's frank words and he's right again, but he's also wrong. He spoke disrespectfully and that is enough to get him thrown in the dungeon. The centaur guard beside my father pulls his sword as if the centaur would cut Melchior's head off, but Father puts his paw in front of the sword to stop him from doing so. Somehow, father is still merciful in this. A courtier humiliated him before his court, yet somehow, he stopped his guard from beheading him.

Still, I can see his trembling paws and claws. Words are Melchior's most powerful weapon and he has done it again. I know Father. He tries to play the merciful for show, but it was as if Father would slice the life out of Melchior had I not been in front of him. If he were not before his court, he would have cut him through with his sharp claws. Somehow, he keeps his temper down and changes to a more placid human form of soft skin and fair head.

"Child, you are wrong to speak of me that way," he says lowly. "Fine. I will send a few lords to lead my army. Lord Ettore, Lord Gaspare, and Lord Dario will lead the charge and destroy the rogue hordes. A few of my kin will come with them amongst my werewolf army. That should be enough."

Silently, he stands from the high table and walks across the hall, out into the double doors. His household follows him and we are left in the great hall all alone. Once again, the crew and I stand agape. I see him walking away with his clenched fist to his side and crossed brows. I knew him to be vindictive and he just proves it again. He sent vampire lords to quell the rebellion and that includes Lord Dario, Melchior's father.

Instead of lashing out, Melchior just falls to his knees and lets out one tear.