Armageddon

Finding her resolve Tia clenched her jaw, glaring up at the King as hot tears spilled down her face. “I don’t believe that for a moment. Vladimir loves me, despite everything I’ve done to him. He wants change to happen because he’s sick of living in your shadow!” She screamed the last words, standing up and clenching her fists. “I’m not blind to his little comments when he shows me his true self! Despite everything that’s happening right now he still wants to save the Humans! He’s only doing this because of you! You’re forcing him, aren’t you?!” Suddenly aware of her true enemy she shoved Michael back, making sure to standpoint. “You manipulative asshole, I dare you. Try to take him from me,”

The King snarled at her, saliva foaming at his mouth. “You dare talk to me so?!” He raised a sharp paw at the speed of light, the fire around him growing in brightness when suddenly something black blocked her path. Shoved back by the furry creature she stumbled, landing in Michael’s grasp.

“Vlad?!” She gasped, watching his teeth sink into his father’s leg. A series of snarling and yelping stunned the crowd into silence as Tia and Michael quickly backed away from the intensifying battle before them. The Guardians watched in stunned horror as the last of the beasts were put down and Cleo quickly approached the battle as fast as she could. Blood sprayed the ground at Tia’s feet, and she jumped back. Diaval appeared to be sitting next to her, his ears perked and watching the fray with intensifying interest. She only acknowledged him a fraction of a moment before turning back to the battle of wolves in front of her.

“Father! Brother!” Cleo begged, coming to an abrupt halt next to them. “Stop this madness! You’ll kill each other!”

Seeing the opportunity at hand, Michael tried to yank Tia away. “Let’s go! While they’re distracted!” He pleaded. She jerked out of his grasp, watching with her own mixed emotions. Michael pulled her with more force, his desperate eyes pleading for her to see him. “Tia!”

She swallowed, holding his gaze as the struggle inside her raged. More tears came down her face and she nodded, gripping his hand with new determination. They turned to escape using the closest gate, now that half a dozen of them had opened all around the stadium. Her heartbroken stare met that of Jaya’s, who was in the process of stumbling toward them. He fell to his knees, the shock of what she was doing visible in his eyes. She turned away from him, escaping into the corridors below the stands. The sound of snarling and barking echoed after her.

Vladimir clawed at his father, his size and weight the only upper hand the older wolf had. The King easily remained above his son, his jaw biting down on his legs and neck. Vlad yelped in pain as a bite pierced his shoulder, and his paw instinctively smacked the bigger wolf in the face. The creature cried as claw contacted its eye; it lunged back, pawing at its face. Vlad quickly scurried to his feet, spinning in a blur of a circle. He lunged at the grey wolf, their fires mixing and raging. The Prince scratched and bit at the King, the blood coating his tongue as the growls and snarls continued to rise out of his chest.

He vaguely acknowledged the cries and pleas of his sister, but his will to end his father grew to the point of a red rage. His body began to move faster and, before he could realize it, his father couldn’t even fight back any longer. The grey and red mass before him became stiff all too quickly, his older age making him easy prey.

The fires around him went out, and like a light switch, Vlad froze. His eyes, teeming with pure animal instinct, surveyed the creature between his feet. Blood and saliva drooled out of his open mouth. He lowered his head, using his snout to lightly touch his father. All signs of life were gone. Vlad slowly turned around, his crimson irises glowing with rage and desire. The lack of a female presence, the one he sought out, smacked at him harder than any wound aching across his body. Slowly he closed his jaw, a trembling growl shaking at his body.

Two more wolves stepped back, their careful gaze surveying the Prince cautiously. He stepped forward then, his eyes focusing on them. They stepped back. Cleo instantly fell onto her side, her tail between her legs as she exposed her stomach. Vlad approached her, sniffing her. She whined as she closed her eyes, unable to meet the gaze of her brother, who seemed to no longer be in his head. Diaval jumped at them then, smacking Vladimir as hard as he could. The wolf was knocked to the side when he jumped back up with a rage that cut through the stadium. Everyone felt the coldness and an indistinctive shudder passed over the onlookers. Vlad stopped and gazed at Diaval, who stood over his sister with a will to protect her, and only that. The wolf snapped his jaw, the sound unsettling to those around him. There was no threat to be found in the other male wolf, as he lowered himself onto the female. His weight crushing down on her.

Vladimir stepped towards them once before stopping and standing tall, his eyes scanning the arena. The sand below their feet was stained red, corpses littering the floor as the Centaurs all lowered their weapons, bowing to the Prince. A thick fog appeared with the crack of lightning. The sound resonated off the walls and filled the audience with a sense of peace.

“Diaval, get off of me,” Cleo whispered, her breathing even and her heart steady. He, too, felt calm and suddenly collected. He took a paw off her and sat back, looking around curiously. Cleo sat up, her ears hanging sadly as she watched her father slowly fade from the Earth.

Vladimir’s focus began to return as the calming air around him settled in. The fire licking at his heels gently turned blue. His ears fell back and rose as thoughts began to play through his head. The pain in his body grew numb and he slowly sat back. The presence of someone behind him caused an ear to fall, the feeling of that person hugging him from behind snapping at him like a rubber band.

Two more figures appeared out of the fog around him, their transparent hands coming together before him. There was nothing solid about the three figures now encircling him; any form of definition or color seemed to be lacking, and as he focused on any part of them that part seemed to disappear before his very eyes. He felt his form change shape as his body was lifted into the air. The three figures seemed to hug him from all sides, their sorrow and hope burning into his very being. He raised his hands to his face, hiding the guilt and shame he felt as the hot water fell freely from his face.

Without being spoken to, without even hearing their voice, he knew. He knew he was King. He knew it was the will of the people. Everyone’s hearts spoke the same thing. Everyone mourned their King, his father. Everyone acknowledged him as the rightful heir, regardless of his actions.

Amid the fog, he realized the space around him was altering. Vlad lowered his hands as the beings around him hushed him, rubbing his shoulders and back. Ahead of him, standing fiercely as ever, so far away and yet so close, his father gazed at him through the eyes of an ancient wolf. Standing just over him, with an elegant hand resting upon his head, was a woman of untold beauty. Vladimir’s gaze couldn’t focus on the woman, but her long blonde hair trailed down her white gown, as thick and white as the fog encircling them. Her mouth moved silently, her pink lips holding a soft smile. Her words carried across the wind without noise, playing musically inside his head.