by Emma Hamm
Brynhild clasped her hands at her waist and shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t agree with you, Sigrid. There’s more than just the worry that the humans will attack us, and I stand by Jabbar on that, but it’s also the knowledge that our people have been used for years. They desire retribution. They want the blood and the screams so their souls can rest.”
“I refuse to believe our people are that bloodthirsty.”
“We are animals at heart,” Brynhild reached forward and took her hand. “Isn’t there a part of you that wants to see them screaming? That wants to reach into their chest and pull out their entrails so they can feel exactly what they’ve done to us for so long?”
Not even a single speck of her wanted that. Sigrid held herself painfully still, forcing every muscle on her face to remain as a mask. They had no right to say these things. Beastkin were not animals, that was the message she fought for, and yet now they wanted to behave as one.
She cleared her throat. “I won’t stand by this. Needless killing is a waste for both of our kingdoms. What you’re asking for is a war started out of pride and greed. This isn’t who we are.”
Jabbar tsked. “That’s your opinion, but what we seek is justice.”
“It’s blood and death. Nothing more than that.” She didn’t know how to convince them to see it her way. Humans had a right to their lives as well, all they had to do was talk with them.
Brynhild sighed and shook her head. “You asked to build a council of people, and as I see it, that’s what we’ve built. You’re outvoted Sigrid. We prepare for war.”
“We haven’t officially built any council.”
The leopard chuckled, leaned forward, and pointed at Jabbar. “He’s the only one around here who can give orders to the Bymerians. Sorry, little sultana. We might be in your land, but the reality is that he gives the orders around here. We’re not following any Earthen folk orders without his agreement.”
And in that moment, Sigrid realized that she’d lost control. No one was following her blindly. They knew exactly what they were doing the moment she walked into their camp.
They saw her as their chance at freedom, the key to the chains that bound them.
Now, the beasts were free.
----
Jabbar and his people were used to living in ruins. They had seen the crumbling stone castle and cared very little that the floors were slippery with moss and algae. They didn’t care that the windows were broken and scattered glass cut their feet. Instead, they had found corners to rest their heads in.
Her sisters were exactly the opposite. They very quickly took the old castle as a challenge, and cleaning became their work. Sigrid was filled with pride to see them making this place a home. They’d heated the rooms, cleaned out the moss, and bit by bit tackled the monolithic castle.
With her sharp, dragon eyes, she could see them all moving around the gardens they were now building. One of the Bymerian men had changed into a hulking stallion and allowed the Earthen Beastkin to strap an old plow to his back. He trudged through the ancient dirt, pulling and tilling until it looked like a garden.
Behind him, birds trailed with seeds in their mouths. They each dropped one in the perfect spot, while a few badger women covered the holes efficiently. They were quick in their work, far faster than a human could do and with much less hardship on their bodies.
They could do this, she realized with pride. They could create a safe home here and live together in a way that she had never dreamed possible. There were men and women who could start a kingdom all on their own. A safe kingdom for all who shared an animal soul.
Yet, the shadow of war loomed over the castle. Beyond her sight, they built machines that would kill men easily and could be carried on the backs of all Beastkin. Elephants prepared themselves, leopards sharpened their claws.
More Beastkin joined the cause every day. The thirst for blood and battle spread through her people like a disease. They wanted retribution, justice, a sense of peace in the knowledge that no human would ever hurt them again.
Sigrid might have felt the same if she didn’t have an image of her husband tumbling from the sky with banners of blood streaking behind him. It was a risk to start a war. People died every day, in great waves, but she didn’t know how much more death she could stand in her life.
Chuffing out a breath, she sank lower and pressed her jaw against the edge of a wing. They were such good people. She’d seen more kindness in the few days here than she had in much of her life. Why couldn’t they extend that past the label of Beastkin to human?
Rocks tumbled at her side, the skittering sound echoing in the small canyon. She huffed out another breath and turned her head away from whomever was disturbing her troubled thoughts.
Raheem’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Sigrid, you cannot hide up here all day. They’ll need your help soon.”
She shook her massive head and turned it further away from him. Childish? Yes, absolutely. However, she didn’t have time to deal with any other worries than her own. There was too much going on in her head, she wasn’t sure if she could fit anything else in there.
“Sigrid,” he grumbled, scrambling on the stones until he could place a hand on her scaled shoulder. “Nadir managed to get in touch with me.”
Nadir? What did he want with them? Another plea for her to reconsider what she was choosing to do. He wouldn’t want his people to lose their lives in this war either. She just wasn’t sure she could stop it.
“It’s an odd letter brought by a very old falcon,” Raheem continued to say. “I thought perhaps you would like to read it. Or…listen to me read it if you’re insistent on staying in this form.”
She arched her neck just enough to stare at him with one great eye.
He cleared his throat. “Alright then. He apologies for the path your lives have taken, requested that I watch out for you, and that…” he paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and then said, “That he’s found a Beastkin he’d like you to come and relocate.”
She lost her footing on the cliff edge, lunging forward so quickly that she nearly knocked Raheem off the cliff. He cried out, but she managed to catch him in the folds of her wing. Setting him back to standing, she nudged him hard with her nose.
“It doesn’t give any explanation. Only that he asks you be careful when you enter the city so that you can get the Beastkin out alive.” Raheem met her gaze. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do, Sigrid. But perhaps this is his way of apologizing.”
It wasn’t much of an apology. He was asking her to risk her life, yet again, but he was also risking his own life housing a Beastkin. What had come over him?
Raheem patted her shoulder. “I told you before, the boy is not all bad. I don’t understand his reasoning any more than you do, but I truly believe there is good in him, Sultana. Perhaps there is a chance for him yet.”
A sickly light of hope bloomed in her chest, one that was dangerous on all accords. She couldn’t let it swallow her whole. The Beastkin needed her, rushing off to see her wayward husband who refused to see the importance of what she was doing would only hurt her in the long run. She couldn’t let him do that to her.
“Sigrid,” Raheem said quietly. “If there is a Beastkin you can help, then you have to go.”
She shook her head.
“Yes, Sigrid. That is what you have chosen. It’s your place to help these people when you put yourself as their savior. Go to him, take the Beastkin with you, but just…” Raheem swallowed, his face twisting with some strong emotion. “Talk to him? For me. Just let him know that it’s never too late to admit he was wrong and to turn down another path.”
She didn’t know if Raheem was right. There would be a point where even she couldn’t forgive Nadir for his actions. If they ended up at war with Bymere, many would die. And she didn’t know if those wounds on her soul could ever be healed.
But if he truly had a Beastkin who needed help, she couldn’t deny him. She glanced down at al
l the good her people had already done, she felt something in her heart squeeze. This was the place for all those who were downtrodden, the weak and hungry.
The Beastkin race needed to heal. Everyone needed a place where they could be safe and lick their wounds. For their souls to slowly grow back into the bright beacons she knew they could be.
So instead of denying Raheem, as she would have liked to, Sigrid nodded.
But not now. She wouldn’t go when there was so much at work here, when her people cried out for a war and she was going to give them one.
Maybe someday, when the world changed and the tides shifted, she could return to him. But for now, she must focus on war.
Nadir
The sun beat down on Nadir’s back. It sank underneath the links of his metal armor plates, rolling in droplets of sweat down his spine.
He sat astride his steed at the forefront of the massive Bymerian army. A messenger had arrived only hours before, heralding the beginning of the war they’d feared. The Beastkin were coming in droves. An army of monsters, the messenger had claimed. They were bloodthirsty, clearing everything in their path like a great tide of death.
Let them come, Nadir had thought. Let them come and see that the Bymerians were waiting for them.
Armor jangled next to him, and he glanced over to see Abdul riding up.
“Sultan,” his advisor said, nodding his head briefly. “The ranks are prepared.”
“And the armored troops?”
“The elephants have been trained well, Sultan. They will not flee, nor will they allow the Beastkin to sway them. However, we have no way of knowing if they can control animals.”
They did have a way of knowing, but his advisor would never have asked Nadir’s opinion. He still wanted to pretend that Nadir was more human than animal.
And yet, already the dragon wanted to break free from his skin. The anticipation of blood, screams, the horror of war all made the dragon male inside him rear his head. It was more than animalistic desire. Unlike some Beastkin, Nadir recognized that his beast wasn’t just an animal. Dragons were far more intelligent than a horse or a leopard. They knew what war was. They recognized it as a playground for all they desired.
Death would fill the air with the metallic scent of blood. He would control himself, as he always had. No one could know what he was.
An elephant cried out and he tensed for a moment before realizing that it was one of his own. How were they to distinguish between the two?
Nadir glanced over his shoulder, checking the riders and the red banners fluttering from each elephant’s tusk. There were thousands of men here, each in black and red armor that gleamed in the sunlight.
Deadly spears lifted into the air. The sharp tips would sink into flesh easily while the jagged edges would rend as they were removed. Scimitars were strapped to every waist, hastily forged and honed by all the blacksmiths of the city.
So many of his people hid within the walls of the Red Palace. They had arrived in droves, seeking sanctuary and praying that the sultan would cast pity upon them. The advisors said to leave them. He had declined their counsel and allowed them all inside.
No innocent would die to a Beastkin. Not today and not any other day in their future if he could help it.
Another animalistic cry lifted. This time from far in the distance. He stiffened and turned.
A wind blew toward them, unnatural in its force and dangerous in its speed. It could easily start a sandstorm, but that was likely the point. When a thunderbird came to battle, it never played fair.
The billowing cloud of sand and movement raced through the desert. His men shifted, armor creaking and filling Nadir with anticipation.
So, it would begin.
“Hold!” he shouted, his order carrying through the ranks and stilling their nerves. “Let them come to us!”
“Sultan,” Abdul warned, “is that wise? Perhaps we should lead them away from the palace—”
“They won’t get close enough to it.”
“They’re already close enough. You’ve taken in many from the outskirts of Misthall and beyond, it’s too great a risk—”
“Abdul, enough.” Nadir watched the approaching army with narrowed eyes. His vision shifted, becoming sharper and far more dangerous. With slit pupils, he flicked a glance to his advisor who paled. “Let them come.”
Forms broke free from the dust. Lithe and lean, the felines lead the charge. Leopards and lions mostly, although a few dark shadows suggested that the Wildewyn panthers were in the ranks as well.
“Tell the armored fleet to prepare,” he ordered Abdul. “And ready the catapults.”
Abdul spun his horse with a harsh click of the tongue and wheeled away. Thundering hooves mixed with the approaching sounds of an army.
Nadir sat silent and still throughout it all. He’d trained for battle nearly his entire life, although his advisors had despised it. Raheem had somehow known this day would come. He’d always said that a sultan should know how to lead a battle. Now, he would have the chance.
He tightened his grip on the reins and watched the large cats as they stretched their long limbs. They were too far for most of his army to see, but his dragon eyes saw every detail. The sinewy muscles that flexed underneath their skin. The silken fur spotted with marks that were different for everyone.
What a shame they all had to die.
“Predictable,” he growled. “You didn’t listen to Sigrid, did you Butcher?”
The tell-tale creak of wood and rope filled his ears. The whoosh of flames called out to his dragon who he kept locked up tight within him. A flaming ball of pitch and fire launched overhead. It whistled through the air and landed in the center of the large cats.
Inhuman screams filled the air. Some of them were caught in the pitch, others tumbled in the sand as they tried to avoid the launched weapons. A large number kept racing for the armored ranks that stepped forward to greet them.
There wouldn’t be many left as the catapults continued. One after another, fireballs rained down from the sky on the ranks of the Beastkin.
Nadir grit his teeth, stilling the guilt in his heart that these were people just like him. That he should be fighting, and dying, with them.
The remaining cats reached them. They slammed against the armored ranks with growls and snarls that filled the air until it was all he could hear. Their nails scratched down the metal chestplates. Their teeth gnashed at the air while yowls echoed from their throats.
And then the Bymerians began to scream.
Another blast of wind shook through his army. Men raised their hands to their faces, protecting the soft flesh from the glass-like shards of sand. Nadir stayed forward, disregarding the pain and ignoring the way his skin stung. The dragon reminded him that armored plates could cover his body with only a small release of power.
He held still, forcing his other form to calm. He kept his gaze on the swirling sands in the distance and waited for the exact moment when the rest of the Beastkin army revealed itself.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Elephants and mammoths burst free from the storm. More lions, bears, birds, beasts of every color charged forward with a scream that echoed with every voice of nature. The ground thundered with the power of their stamping feet.
A man behind him gave a shout of fear and pointed to the sky. His heart clenched, but he looked up.
The thunderbird was albino like the man. It reared up and screamed, four wings spread so wide it blocked out the sun. Lightning struck the sand nearby.
“Dragonslayer!” he shouted. “Shoot that beast down!”
Pulling his scimitar from his side, Nadir kicked his horse and raced through the sands to meet the Beastkin army head-on. Hundreds of his men came with him. They all rode horses, where the foot soldiers would remain behind to clean up any that broke through the ranks.
Wind whistled past his ears, tangling in his hair as if he were flying. The others wore helms made of gold and rubie
s. They needed the protection, whereas Nadir could care less.
Birds dove from the sky, claws extended to pluck out eyes and scratch faces. Nadir bared his teeth in a growl and lifted an arm to keep them away. Others swung their swords wildly, catching wings and feathers easily in their haste.
An elephant charged by. It swung a great trunk, scooped up a horse and soldier, sending them flying into the distance. He heard an answering call, and then it locked tusks with one of his own elephants. The Bymerian beast’s eyes rolled in their sockets, but the Beastkin was more man than animal.
The wild beast desired to live, and it would do anything to ensure its own future. The Beastkin cried out as the Bymerian elephant twisted and snapped a tusk free from the Beastkin’s face.
A lion leapt onto his horse, digging claws into the shoulders and snapping its powerful jaws at Nadir’s leg. He sliced his scimitar down, dragging it along the Beastkin’s face and curving it under the throat.
The lion gave a gurgling growl and fell underneath his horse’s stamping feet. His stallion staggered, blood seeping from the shoulder wound, and then fell to a knee.
Nadir slid from its back and pressed a hand to the wound. “Be free, old friend. Run.”
The wild look in the stallion’s eye almost made him wonder whether it understood him. He wouldn’t have been surprised to have a Beastkin looking out for him all this time. His life was made of surprises it seemed.
But the stallion lurched to its feet and raced away from the battle without a second glance.
He spun and raised his scimitar, catching a Beastkin horse as it charged. Nadir turned his head to the side so he didn’t see the man’s gurgling last breath. A scream echoed from the sky, and he looked up to watch a woman tumble through the clouds with an arrow through her breast.
This would be a war to end all wars. He would never be able to wipe these images from his brain.
Sigrid. Frantically, he spun, searching the skies for the woman who had changed him so thoroughly. Where was she?
Had she chosen not to fight? She hadn’t wanted this war, but she would have stood by her people. Not unless something had happened, and the mere thought made his veins freeze.
