Chapter 19: The king
Though the eyes of a certain king
Golden fur shimmers under the restless canopy, a figure standing tall and proud with the unwavering confidence of a king. Amber eyes glow bright, piercing through the cloud of dust stirred by his landing to meet the violet gaze of his adversary. "The supposed emissary of the great shadow, in the flesh. Truly a remarkable beast to have bested my son with such ease." He muses, his voice a deep rumble within the cloak of dust.
Thud! He slams a fist into the ground, firing a pulse of essence into the cratered earth around him, beckoning it to raise and flatten to its normal standing. On level terrain, he stands eye to eye with the emissary, matching its gaze with his own. Violet eyes gaze back, an unwavering void laying tranquil within them.
Tremendous! Never before have I witnessed such a depth in the eyes of a beast. Even I cannot meet this gaze for long. Truly, what manner of being do you make of yourself. The air thrums in rhythm with his heartbeat, the ground trembling in anticipation. And this lack of essence... Is it hidden, or is there something more? He shifts his gaze to his son, who observes the encounter with an enraptured gaze.
"You fought well son. Though outmatched, you held strong and faced the enemy with vigour." A weary chuckle escapes the boy. "No father. My meagre strength was not even enough to phase it. Not a single violet glow escaped the beast. It held back." "Do not judge your strength from that of the abnormal. Any other beast in these lands would have fallen to your strength. Had I given up at defeat of the warrior of green I would have never achieved the strength I wield now."
"That story is legendary! You believe this beast to be of the same ilk?" The king grins, raising his posture to his full height. "We shall see. Now scatter boy, I shall accept no interference." The boy obeys, carrying his companions to the canopy above as the arena is cleared. The king's gaze shifts to the bright one, who remains at a distance. I had hoped to face both. But alas, it would be naught but an offence to ask. Let us hope this one alone is enough to invigorate me.
The golden fur coating his entire body shuffles, the muscles within his thick, tree-trunk arms rippling forth as he raises his fists to his chest. Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Each beat sends shock-waves across the jungle, each thrum shaking the ground, each strike a calculated showcase of his might. "Come beast! Show me your might!" The king leaps forth, and the emissary meets his charge head on.
As they near one another, the king thrusts his arm forth, grasping the beast by the neck and tossing it high into the air. Shocked by the speed of his attack, the emissary flares its wings catching itself in the air, before letting itself fall with a spin. A sheathed tail whips forth, soaring towards the king who grasps the swiping tail with a crack in the air. Directing the beast's momentum, he pivots and launches it to the ground, shattering the hard earth as it crashes down.
"Do you think me weak!" He roars. Thoom! He slams his chest, the arena grounds trembling under his might as his eyes glow a bright amber. "Offend me no longer beast! Show me your strength!" The emissary stands, shaking off the dust. Violet eyes peer at the king, compressing into narrow slits as they bore into him. A deep breath escapes its maw as it crouches low, violet orbs weaving into a maelstrom around its limbs. And the earth shatters.
The king strikes, his fist landing hard on the thick hide of the soaring beast, scattering a few scales as its claws scrape into his fur. With a grunt, he grapples his foe, legs sinking into the rock below as he battles against the tremendous force being exerted upon him. With a crack, the ground below him disappears, teeth sinking into his shoulder as he is pulled up by the leaping beast and tossed high.
Glorious! He thinks to himself as he reaches the canopy, giving a youngling a soft pat on the head before plunging back down. The king grasps the wind, pulling it and forcing himself to spin, building momentum as he soars below. Crack! A crevice forms across the diameter of the arena, a burst of air and a wave of earth pushing the emissary off its feet.
The emissary plants its feet into the earth, carving grooves into the stone before charging forward, coated in a vortex of violet. Fist meets claw head on. And the fist wins. The beast's paw is thrown back, cracks heard as a few claws remain stuck in the tense flesh. Unfettered by the failed exchange, the emissary continues its assault, slashing his side with its other paw and lunging its jaws at his shoulder.
The king grasps its neck, halting its assault as he inhales. With a fwoom, the emissary is coated in hot flames, singing its obsidian scales and burning into its eyes, blinding the creature. With a long sigh, the king steps back, raising his hand to call a healer. With this, victory is- The beast meets his gaze. What?
Eyes glazed black, the emissary stares directly at him. If anything, the gaze has become stronger, as if a thousand hands were directly grasping at his form, mapping out every groove, analysing every twitch of a muscle. The king circles around the beast, pulling at the air to silence his steps and pressing his will into the earth to halt any vibrations. Yet the beast follows, never letting its burned eyes leave his form. Truly. What are you?
A tremor courses through his spine, the gaze boring into his very being from every direction. For but a moment, he feels a hint of fear, reverence, as if staring at a being beyond his comprehension. He breaks his gaze, a moment of surprise at his show of weakness, immediately followed by a wide grin.
"Huhuhu." He chuckles. "Haahahaa!" He laughs. Thoom! The air trembles as he slams his chest, fire coating his golden fur as the air boils and the ground wavers. "Earth!" He roars. "Bend before me!" He commands as his fists plunge into the stone below. And the earth bends.
The arena warps beneath his fists, his essence soaking through the ground causing it to shatter and deform. The emissary leaps from the unstable ground it stood upon, charging towards the king as it darts across the gravity-defying terrain, uninhibited by the waves of stones and rocks buffeting its scales.
I am winning this exchange. My strikes land true and I'm barely injured, yet... The gaze permeates around him, as if threatening to consume his very being. He looks into the charred eyes of the beast, sensing no fragment of surrender in its unwavering charge. I cannot imagine myself claiming victory. Fist coated in flames, the king meets its charge with a strike, only for it to weave around his arm with uncanny agility, coiling around him and slamming the wind from his lungs with a violet coated tail. An unseen force pulls his body towards the strike, as if gravity had declared the beast its origin, forcing him to take the full brunt before being flung to the arena wall.
Before he can regain his wits, a paw slams into his chest, shattering the wall behind him once again. The stones dancing around the arena crash as his control over the earth falters. Unable to breathe, unable to move, he peers into the charred eyes of his opponent, the fire in his own eyes still burning bright. And he concedes. Were this a real fight, I would be dead.
"Huhuhu." He chuckles, resting his head behind himself and tapping the wall. Confused whispers and murmurs echo across the canopy as the emissary releases its hold on the king. Raising his arms he looks up to his stunned subjects and announces with a wide grin, "I have lost! Show the victor your praise!" At his declaration, the jungle erupts into cheers and roars, the leaves above dancing in celebration of the battle they were granted audience to. A few younglings manage to fall from the trees in their excitement, planting their faces into the stone below before hopping up and darting around like the manic little gremlins they are.
"A feast! Show these great warriors our hospitality!" He commands, prompting the trees above to warp with movement as dozens of his subjects swim across the branches, preparing for guests and hoisting more black ropes below. With the last of his essence, the king pours his will into the earth, levelling the arena floor and straightening the walls.
Hoisting himself up the rope with practiced ease he beckons for the emissary and the bright one to follow. As he reaches the canopy a crack resounds from below and the beast grasps hold of the branches with a glowing critter perched atop its head, having leapt the distance to the canopy. Speckles of violet peek through a charred eye as the beast regards the king. "Huhuhu, it seems the healer won't be necessary for this one. I doubt I even scratched the surface of your capabilities, great beast." He muses, clambering up the rope as his guests follow, squeezing through the thicket and snapping branches as they ascend.
Densely packed branches give way to the bustling centre a wooden metropolis, the horizon littered with webs of ropes, nets, and wood platforms. Curious heads poke from small nooks carved into tree trunks and hanging roots while busy workers clamber across the ropes, carrying various tools and baskets.
"Come! Come!" The king ushers his guests, climbing his way across a rope to a larger platform. The emissary glides across the gap, landing by the enormous circular banquet table, packed with an assortment of meats and fruits being dished out by eager workers as younglings try to sneak away with some early snacks only to be caught by their attentive guardians. Mostly.
Above the table hangs a platform adorned with upside-down stools and horizontal ladders between them. The king hoists onto himself one by the edge, followed by dozens of his subjects, clambering into seats above the table while the youngest hug the edges, too small to reach down for food from the stools. The emissary lays down at the edge near the king, sniffing at a roast while the bright one hops off its perch, snags some meat, and skitters onto the emissary's back to nibble. They are joined by the King's son and his entourage, as well as a dozen young ones peppering everyone with questions and clambering all over the guests.
"King! King! Is this thing really emissary to the great shadow? Why is it shiny?" "The bright one really glows! Does that mean it's super strong like the king?" "Do emissaries poop?" "What's it like having so many eyes? I can't even count that high!" "Where did all the pink things go?" "I could beat the emissary!" "Can I eat the bright one?"
The king's son pipes up, waving the younglings away. "Begone young ones, you disturb our guests. And you mustn't eat the bright one. It's poisonous!" He playfully snarls, shooing the younglings as they scatter with screams and giggles. "Though, Father." He grins. "Now that you're bereft of essence, do you think I could best you?" The king scrapes clean the leg he'd been chewing and flicks the bone at the fool's forehead. "Try it boy. Watch how I fold you." The table erupts in laughter, the boy's companions jostling him and thumping his back.
"King?" The emissary chimes in, eliciting startled looks from those around. "It speaks!" One of his companions announces. "Fool! Have you not heard the reports? They speak amongst each other in their own tongue. It likely imitates us, to learn ours." The king responds. "Why would they speak another tongue? Why not just use ours?" "I know not. Though it was the same with the warrior of green. He spoke unfamiliar words too, so perhaps it is simply a trait of outsiders." The king's words leave the table silent, an unanswered question lingering on the tips of every tongue. Until it is voiced, "So who's stronger? The emissary, or the warrior of green?"
The king pauses, taking a moment to ponder the query. "Remember, I was young then so I never witnessed his true strength. But without a doubt, the warrior of green was stronger. Much stronger. Though whether the emissary could outlast his strength, I do not know." Excited murmurs fill the table, eagerly comparing three of the strongest beings they know. Murmurs turn to shouts, turn to laughs. Even after the table is emptied of food the bustling conversations continue. The younglings even return to clamber atop the emissary, who lifts them high with its wings and tail playing with them till they're ragged.
As time drags on the table slowly empties, workers heading off to continue their responsibilities, and guardians taking their children away to rest. Eventually, all that's left are the king, the guests, his son, and his three companions. "You three, take our guests to a rest nook. I wish to speak with my son." """Yes king!""" They obediently respond, disappearing across a rope with their guests.
The boy relaxes, sitting by the king. "What is it father?" The king takes a deep breath, regarding the boy with a serious expression. "You are the king now." The boy is stunned, for a moment not registering the words his father just spoke. "What? But you're-" "Leaving. I will follow the emissary and the bright one to the realms below." "But... why?" "You know why boy. I am too strong for this place. I weaken you all. In my younger days there were dozens of your capabilities, yet now there is only you. The people rely on my strength too much, and I only grow weaker. There are no foes for me here. I have been training you for this boy. Don't pretend you don't want this."
The boy... no, the king rises, offering his father a respectful bow. Grasping the fool, the king, now nought but a warrior, pulls him in for a hug. "When I return, I expect you to surpass my current strength. Any less and I'll be forced to train you from scratch." The king chuckles, hugging his father back. "Of course father. I won't let you down."