1 Prologue

The fields are stained with the battle. Blood spilled out as if the sky had rained red waters from above. The skies are gray for it would weep for the lost souls in this battle. Corpses of the losing hordes are spread all over as if they are flowers that bloomed on a spring day.

The winners mock the dead for it seems that their very defeat is a disgrace and worth the slander. A man, perhaps not even a man, looks around the battlefield for something shimmering of victory. With his sharp eyes, he eyes for the head of the defeated. Horns are all about as if those are the pikes that would have been used to parade their heads, had they lost. He walks strappingly across the fields and there he finds the thing he is looking for.

With his gruff and furry hands, he picks up the shimmering object with gentleness. The sun glistens on its golden surface and each of the pointed crooks at the end reflects his face. He looks at this magnificent object with much desire, but he shakes away the thought and carries it gently away.

He steps before his leader, a tall man standing upright. He kneels before the tall man and lays the object before him. The man staggers for he cannot believe it is done. With his bloody hands, he takes the crown of kinghood away from the bearer and places it over his head.

"Long live our new king, Llewelyn," the gruff man bellows to the army as he puts his arm over his chest.

"Long live the king," the army echoes as all of them kneel, leaving King Llewelyn standing upright as if he had been born to the position.

He keeps his head high and looks around the field. The white bodies of the defeated unicorns had fallen before him and paved way for his ambition. He smiles regally before them.

"From this day on, you, my friends, will be rewarded!" Llewelyn says. His furry face drips with cold sweat and another's blood. Still, he minds not either. "From this day on, werewolves will rule the Kingdom, and this time, it is us who will keep it. And to those who will threaten us, I promise you, blood will be spilled."