What is sport to the cat is death to the rat

Footsteps came from the outside.

“Daddy!”

Jacob ran to the door, waiting for it to open.

“Hey don’t run!” His elder brother, Klaus was in the kitchen, making dinner. He snickered as he put down the pot. The sweet smell of porridge drifted in the air, meshing with the newly renovated wooden kitchen.

The sun had just set and soon it’d be dark.

Both were in great spirits today. The whole town was. After all, the war just ended and the humans won a great victory.

Their father would be here after two whole weeks of fighting.

Last year after their mother passed away, the siblings had only their father to rely on. But since their father was a soldier, Klaus had to pick up on the housework. He was only fifteen but he was taking magic lessons from the witch next door and simultaneously handling all the chores of the house. He was also slightly gifted in spearmanship.

He was known as a prodigy in the neighborhood.

He knew he wasn’t but it did put a smile on his face.

He always had his hands full with his little brother though.

Jacob would turn ten next week and he’d run around the house a dozen times just before the sun would set: this was mandatory for him. After all that’s when their father always returned. The poor kid loved his father and wanted to go fight monsters by his side.

He’d throw so many fits and pout so many times… he was special.

His father did promise to take him out there, one of these days.

The front door of the house creaked open and Jacob eagerly stood there.

But instead of his loving father a burly man entered the house: a burly man with a large triangular scar on his forehead. He was big: and very muscular but it was hidden well with the thick coat he wore.

“Who you!” Jacob screamed. “Kla! Someone here!” He couldn’t quite pronounce words fluently yet.

Klaus washed his hands, came over wiping with hands with a cloth. “Who-” He stopped. His face paled. “Wh-what happened? Where is he?” He ran to the door, staggering as he did, almost tripping twice.

The burly man didn’t say a word. He exhaled and searched for something in his sachet. After a moment’s delay, he brought out a knife. “This was his.” He gave the knife to Klaus and then proceeded to give him two small pouches. One was heavy and judging by the clangs, coins. The other- bloody and slightly rancid. “Bury him wherever you want. I’m sure you wanted to see him one last time but-” He turned around. “That’s all I could manage to salvage.”

With shaking hands Klaus opened the pouch.

A finger.

Horror.

“Bu-but we were winning! WE WON! You had the heroes! What HAPPENED!” Klaus’s voice roared. He broke his voice. He was surprised he could scream so loud.

But he was more surprised by something else.

The blood…. The finger.

“The serpents got him.” Another exhale. “I’m sorry.” The man walked out.

Klaus fell on his knees. Not quite believing what just happened.

“What wrong Kla?” Jacob shook him, worried.

Klaus’s eyes leaked as she stared at the door. “Nothing.” His voice came out broken. It hurt to speak.

“Then why you crying?” Jacob’s eyes also shimmered. “And daddy late.”

Klaus didn’t cry but his eyes kept on leaking. He grabbed his brother, hugged him tight. He didn’t say a word.

The sweet smell in the air wasn’t sweet anymore.

***

Castle Armal:

“Your majesty, it is said that the undead queen has summoned the serpents.”

The earl bowed before the king.

A room veiled in pale red light.

“The serpents?” The king asked.

His eyes had a hard time focusing on the young man in front of him. A very fair young man in his early twenties; perfectly symmetrical face and well built.

There were three people in the royal room: the king, the earl and the woman pressing her chest against the king’s back.

“Yes, my lord, the serpents of hell: I suspect they’d attack our northern city any moment now.”

The king swirled his wine and drank the red creamy liquid one sip at a time. “Just send those outlanders to deal with them again.” He smiled, a very drunk smile and traced his hand against the woman’s waist, rubbing it against her bottom. “No need to send the soldiers to their doom: they’ve fought enough.” He was old, but not senile- yet. His thick beard always got in the way of his drink, but he didn’t care.

“But if we don’t send the united army who knows what’ll happen! Besides, we still can’t trust them.”

The scent of liquor had enveloped the whole room. But there was another scent- the scent of a certain aphrodisiac.

“Only six of them left, correct? Just let the other two deal with the serpents if they show up. Besides, has the undead queen even attacked us?”

The girl run her fingers through the king’s hair as he stroked her waist. A beautiful woman- a woman of the king’s harem. She had barely anything on.

The earl looked up, sharp. “No, my lord. And we can’t just unveil the eighth hero yet… Besides, the great sage has sensed some disturbance. He claims another outlander has descended on this world. And this time, they might not be for the greater good. And since they have the power, it’s unlikely they won’t attack our least guarded city.”

The king smiled; his golden crooked teeth were on full display. “But she hasn’t made a move, yes? And with the six heroes leading the army, it’s only a matter of time before she is defeated. WE have no need to force it and cause more casualties.”

“That is true my lord.” The earl admitted. “However.”

“However?”

“What if the queen attacks us while the heroes are away?”

Currently, six of the heroes were with the united army, still recovering from the battle. They were garrisoned there with the injured soldiers.

“Nonsense. Abandon the demons and attack us instead?” The king dismissed the sentiment with a snort. “Besides, we still have those two worthless outlanders here. If they attack us, nothing will happen. If they don’t, they’re going to get wiped. Either way, we have won this war.” He finished his drink.

“But what about the next step my lord?” The earl changed his tone slightly.

“The next step?” The king’s face was slightly flushed. He was already pretty drunk.

However-

Perhaps not drunk enough.

“The alliance. The queen would soon be defeated. Then the point of the alliance would cease to be. Wouldn’t it be best if we were to make our move right now and-”

The king again snorted. “Now’s not the time.” He swirled his glass again: but it was empty. ‘So that’s why you came here, you little runt?’ He just kept on grinning as the woman poured him some more.

The earl grimaced slightly but he didn’t let it show. “I’ll take my leave now then, your majesty.”

“Very well, leave.”

All this time, the earl’s eyes were low. He didn’t want to see the man he once respected- his father, like this. He didn’t want to see him like this, drunk, cowering.

But just as he came out of the room, his face grew darker and darker. He was a fair man. But right now, he looked awfully brown and flushed. The veins on his head bulged, and he wanted to break something. ‘This is why you’re still not the leader of the alliance, father.’

But he also had a grin.

A grin.

‘But worry not- I’ll become the emperor.’

After all, the world didn’t need an alliance if there was only one kingdom: one empire.