The Hellish Incursion

Preparation of War

            It was already hard to know that Ifrit was dead, but it was even harder when they realized that they didn’t even have a body to bury as they reached Summinat. Lilac pointed at this when they passed a graveyard, commenting that his body would still be down in the river. In fact, everyone in the group felt that not having Ifrit traveling with them made the travel empty, and each had their own reasons for it.

            For Sammael, he must content with losing his beloved master after years of guarding him. Sammael thought that Ifrit might end up doing what his previous master did to him, now that he realized (begrudgingly) that Rhynsa did witness what Hynorsi Schelkz did to force his obedience. Instead, the young hellhound prince regarded him as a friend, and even give him a shorter nickname that even the surface dwellers could understand. Their relationship was less of master and servant and more of friends. Personally, he felt fortunate that the other hellhound bearing the name and the blood of a Schelkz, Nergora Schelkz, was still alive. He wouldn’t want to know what he would think if his obedience was gone and he returned to a demon that he was.

            For Albert, the loss of Ifrit meant the loss of a dear friend, especially one who he could finally talk to that had no idea how things work up in the surface. Ifrit was like a foreigner who had no understanding of surface culture and both Albert and Lilac helped him understand it better. However, the one thing he lamented the most was the fact that he did not even reveal his real occupation other than a cargo hauler, all because of the worry that the hellhound might not trust Albert because his kind was called hellhounds, which for some people was synonymous with demons. But he knew Lilac would straighten things out for him, and he wasted this chance to be straightforward with Ifrit. All he could do now was regret.

            For Eshdar, the fact that Ifrit was a prince hunted by rebels without ever knowing what he did wrong was relatable. Eshdar’s own status as an exiled prince made him hunted by many, and the only thing that saved him was his bushy vulpine tail that mostly hid the rings signifying his status as a prince. He felt that he had failed to protect Ifrit as Ifrit tried his best to protect the Hunter. Both had each other’s back, and for once, it failed to save Ifrit. Seeing how bad Lilac took this did not make his guilt better.

            Everyone had a mixed feeling regarding Rhynsa’s role in this. They knew he was to blame for Ifrit’s reduced fighting capabilities after being exhausted and injured by the fight with Rhynsa. However, the Fuzandre was also responsible for warning them of an ambush, and also confirmed them that a hellish incursion was happening. Eshdar could prove that Rhynsa did heal Ifrit after they fought, suggesting that he changed his mind about the challenge and decided not to go with his 20-years revenge plot. For someone apparently so consumed with revenge, he changed his mind too quickly.

            Still, Rhynsa gave them a new mystery regarding Ifrit’s identity, one that everyone thought was obvious enough. Who was Ifrit? Rhynsa said that his wounds healed like new after the wound was treated with fire. Hellhounds were invulnerable to fire, but they did not heal by it, as per Eshdar’s claim. They had no way to confirm or deny Rhynsa’s claim, but it would soon change when they reached Summinat, the town where Anarim Winsel and Eshdar lived in.

            Summinat was not a big town but was important for being the border town between Adaline and An’ah. It was one of several other smaller towns and villages along the region border. However, Summinat was the most important due to its proximity to the next big town in An’ah region: The city of trees, Jatika. The structures and buildings in the An’ah region were built directly inside the giant trees, one of which was as big as a house. They had perfected a traditional construction method that would preserve the trees’ life, in exchange for a slow industrialization. Travelers wanting a rest from the heavily industrialized regions of Adaline and Dusdolf usually went to An’ah for a fresher air. Tragoria was the next best place to go if one preferred something more rural.

            However, Summinat appeared to be important for a different reason, and that was the population of hellhounds in the town. Rhynsa and the others noticed this the moment they saw some hellhounds not only working as part of the community, but also openly show that they were not Lycans. There were also Hunter hellhounds roaming the streets and who greeted Eshdar as they got off the car.

            They were at first in awe of this, but quickly reminded themselves that they still had something to do, and they need to start as soon as possible. They needed answers from Anarim Winsel, and they needed it soon if they wanted to know what to do next.

            After they parked the car, Eshdar looked around to find his bearings before he pointed towards the fountain in the middle of the town.

            “If grandad’s still here, he should have a tea shop in the town’s center,” said Eshdar. “Bearing our family’s crest as a trade logo.”

            “That’s bold of him,” commented Rhynsa. “Pretty sure that the recipe for trouble, Winsel.”

            “It’s not my idea,” said Eshdar with a shrug. “And besides, no one doesn’t seem to notice.”

            Rhynsa simply sighed as Eshdar walked them towards the town center. It was summer, and people, mostly hellhounds, walked around or sitting to relax and to shop. Children played around the fountain and in one of the playgrounds while their parents watched them. Even more impressive was the fact that the hellhounds played with other children such as humans and Lycans, without them ever being alienated by one another.

            They looked around the area until Eshdar quickly pointed out the tea shop. Just as he said, the shop sign was big enough to show the logo, which was a bronze-colored circle crest with a monogram topped with a crown shaped similar to Eshdar’s headdress to disguise his antler-like horns. The monogram would look like a very peculiar symbol for surface dwellers, but for some hellhounds, it was ancient Hordo. There were several letters, with the most prominent and the biggest was a ‘W’. The smaller scripts were An., short for Anarim.

            As they entered the shop, they noticed that it was not a busy day. The tea shop, as Lilac noticed, was in Tragorian style. Cookies, scones, and cakes were on display to complement the row of tea leaves behind the counter, along with a selection of fine-looking teapots. However, she also noticed that the snacks sold and the tea leaves on display were not all Tragorian. There were some Tragorian tea brands, but most of the tea on the shelves were An’ah in origin. Some of the tea were not even purely made out of tea leaves, but with herbs Lilac wasn’t familiar with.

            Seeing the Tragorian-styled tea shop made Lilac wonder what her brother would say of her. In fact, she wondered if her brother was still out there, braving the seas in his own dangerous adventure. She tried not to think that her brother’s travel was fruitless. Lilac had just lost someone precious to her; she did not want to lose someone even more precious.  

            One of the shopkeepers, a hellhound with the head of a Doberman, greeted them as they entered. Eshdar did not hesitate to simply ask the hellhound about his grandfather’s whereabouts.

            “(I’m sorry, who are you?)” asked the hellhound.

            “(Eshdar Winsel),” said Eshdar. “(He’s my grandad?)”

            The hellhound seemed surprised by this remark and quickly asked for another hellhound to take over while he disappeared into the door behind him. A moment later, an older Hunter hellhound walked out of the door and out from behind the counter. Lilac and Albert noticed how an older hellhound would look like. For Lilac, it was like how an older Lycan would look: patches of grayish fur and faded coat color.

            The older hellhound, however, looked like he was still in his prime. He was taller than Eshdar and he had toned muscle under the traditional An’ah-style robe he was wearing. One glance and everyone knew he was not someone to be messed with, even if he was propping himself with a cane.

            “(Hi, grandad),” said Eshdar. “(Haven’t seen you for a while).”

            Anarim did not hesitate to use his cane to smack Eshdar’s head, surprising everyone in the store. His face had an angry expression.

            “(Look, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before I leave. But I sent you wires),” said Eshdar.

            All that rage, however, turned into elation as Anarim hugged his grandson, with Eshdar following suit after a period of surprise.

            “(I know, kid. I know),” said Anarim. “(But you’ve clearly forgot).”

            “(Forgot what?)”

            “(The rules?)”

            Eshdar contemplated about it for a moment until something clicked in his head. He soon dropped his head, feeling guilty.

            “(Ah, don’t worry),” said Anarim with a chuckle. “(I know I’m safe when I saw your face. Anyway, who’s your…?)”

            Anarim saw Albert first. He soon remembered who the human was as he noted his blue eyes and light blonde hair.

            “Hi, Anarim,” said Albert.

            “Albert Schafner,” said Anarim with a smirk. “All grown up.”

            “It’s only been five years since we met.”

            “Except you’re a cocky little brat with an attitude and brain. I guess you’ve burned out all that youthful cockiness. You also took my advice. That three-piece suit looks good on you. Not keen on burgundy, but who am I to tell, right?”

            After he patted Albert’s shoulder, he soon noticed Lilac and Rhynsa, along with Sammael. Sammael was still being bound by the seal all over his body, but he was allowed to walk. He was not allowed to talk.

            “A Fuzandre,” said Anarim. “Well, what a pleasant surprise. I never thought I’d meet one again after so many years topside.”

            “How do you know I am a Fuzandre?” said Rhynsa. “I am wearing a cloak.”

            “Your feet are not paws,” said Anarim while pointing his cane down. “This shop can get a bit dusty during summer and one of those footprints are not like the others.”

            “Well,” said Rhynsa amused. “Guess your eyes are better than mine.”

            “My eyesight’s failing, but I bet it’s much better than you bats are,” he said cheekily. “I owe you a thanks.”

            “I never met you.”

            “On behalf of all the Fuzandres, which you represent. I know our kinds do not get along and I am aware that Fuzandres do not want to be involved with hellhounds. But the reason we can be up here, far from the Uprising, is due to the efforts of a Fuzandre tribe who warned us of the situation. I asked them to follow us, but they refused, saying that the Underworld was always their home. Oh, I do hope the uprising did not displace them.”

            Rhynsa did not say anything. He knew, and possibly Anarim also knew, that the Fuzandres would fight back and maybe even die for it. He never thought Fuzandres could owe hellhounds that much. He knew his relationship wasn’t the case.

            “Ah. But where are my manners,” said Anarim with a chuckle. “It’s past teatime, but I’m sure you’re hungry from your travels. Tea?”

            “Scones and cucumber sandwich, please,” said Lilac.

            “I’ll have coffee, thank you,” said Albert.

            “None for me,” said Rhynsa.

            “And me,” said Eshdar.

            “What about the Barghest?” said Anarim. “I suppose the reason you muzzle him is not because he’s trying to bite you. Otherwise, you won’t walk him like a dog. Release him, please.”

            Rhynsa did so. Sammael felt the pressure clamping his maws were gone. He was going to bite Rhynsa when Anarim said, “What would you like?”

            “Taking a bite out of him?” he said while growling at Rhynsa.

            “Ah, but I suggest you don’t,” he said with a smile. “This is a fine establishment, not a place to start a fight. I’m sure you have your own reasons, but I won’t tolerate a fight.”

            “You don’t know what he did.”

            “Just like hundreds of guests this establishment serves.”

            Sammael wanted to protest Rhynsa’s involvement, but Lilac saw this. She kneeled down, held Sammael’s head, and said, “I understand, Sam, I really do. But it won’t bring Ifrit back.”

            “And being buddies with the one who killed him will make things easier?”

            “Killing him in cold blood won’t,” she said. “I am still not through with him, but I know he is sorry. In his own way. So, Sam…do it for me, will you?”

            Sammael looked at Rhynsa, who nodded at him. While the Barghest did not like his mug, Rhynsa seemed adamant that while he had a role in causing Ifrit’s death, even he knew that making a problem out of it would lead to dire consequences. He lived 20 years believing what Hynorsi and Leahn Schelkz did to him. He had all the reasons to hate the two. If he was telling the truth, Sammael would look like a fool for supporting such ungrateful masters like them.

            And Lilac, while still grieving, was strong enough to keep strong after a terrible loss. Sammael could see sadness in her eyes, but she chose not to cling to the past and continue onwards without ever forgetting Ifrit. If she did, she would’ve just throw away the sack with Ifrit’s broken horn and move on from him. Inspired by Lilac, Sammael stopped, and nodded back at Rhynsa.

            “Okay,” said Anarim. “Now that it’s all sorted out, I’ll show you to your seats. Come along, now.”

***

            Lilac had not had such a relaxing situation for the whole day. The tension and the loss made her want to just go to sleep and forget everything ever happened, but the tea Anarim served, along with the scone and cucumber sandwich made her realize that she was hungry. It would not feel right for her to feel relaxed after witnessing Ifrit’s gruesome death, but if Ifrit was there, he would try his best to comfort her. He was a good listener, after all.

            Anarim specifically asked a private tearoom for the group to relax and talk. With a slow afternoon and no reservations, the room was perfect for important talks that would be too sensitive for anyone uninvolved. The old hellhound was not worried of enemy hellhounds getting to Summinat because of one simple reason.

            “If they did, they would vandalize the family crest outside and we would know,” said Anarim. “I have specifically told my staff that anyone doing anything to the crest will be shot at, but not to kill them. Then again, I draw the line between harmless delinquents to dangerous anti-royals. I always like to say, ‘cripple the punk, kill the enemy’.

            “Sounds…harsh,” said Lilac.

            “No mercy for traitors, my dear,” said Anarim while sipping his tea. “Then again, context is important. I wouldn’t want to be seen as a cranky, trigger-happy old hound, right? So, that is why this town is one of several that knew what’s at stake.”

            “So, they knew the incursion is real,” said Albert.

            “They knew the incursion is real and it has already happened. I believe Dusdolf is now on high alert after what happened in the region of Tragoria. I can guess that demon hunters are already prepared for this. Even so, they are not as prepared as we are.”

            “Because they think the incursion are just skirmishes and the increase of demon worship and summoning,” said Albert as he drank his cup of coffee. “And they’re understaffed.”

            “They only got one hunter to deal with the whole region, namely me,” said Albert. “I know they can’t spare any more hunters without dealing with the possible casualties. Demon hunters don’t draft civilians. There is a reason why one hunter is equal to an army in dealing with demons.”

            “That sounds like an exaggeration,” said Rhynsa. “True, they’re doing their jobs, but they’re better off as investigators than soldiers. I can’t believe they really think your invention’s too radical. In fact, it works fine for me.”

            “A little doctrine goes a long way, Rhynsa,” said Albert with a sigh. “They believe a proper cleansing ritual is necessary to prevent any more summoning. The younger members don’t agree, but then again there is the matter of seniority.”

            “Which is why freelance is the way to go, blondie.”

            “Let’s not talk about that and start talking about the incursion,” said Anarim, returning them back to topic. “An’ah has become a haven and a base for hellhounds who knew this is the real problem, while Adaline only have Summinat. So, our defense is too centralized. We need to establish more bases, and my agents are already doing that. Then again, we need to find one thing that can turn this situation around.”

            “And that is?”

            “Death’s Jackals. Or Jackals for short. They are a race of hellhounds that deal with demons closer than all of us in this room. They, or specifically the royal family, were guardians of the gate of hell. I can tell that the perpetrators of the Uprising started from here, then spread through civil unrest caused by irresponsible monarchs, especially if most of their region were hungry and dying. The kingdom of Drundas was the obvious target.”

            “Drundas?” asked Lilac. “You mean the family of Schelkz was the start?”

            “Even I know their thirst of power. Schelkz has been notorious for being a warmonger even before my time as king. Unlike most royal families, the Schelkz family believed of equal position. The king and the queen were co-rulers, regardless of social standing.”

            “Yes, but…weren’t there exceptions?” said Sammael, who was, of course, starting to become uneasy by this claim.

            “There can be exceptions, but those hellhounds do not wish to become the king or the queen. Why would they if they know they’ll be corrupted by power?”

            Anarim soon noticed the uneasiness that spread across the room, especially from his grandson. The only one who had a different reaction was Rhynsa, who simply nodded in confirmation. Confused by this reaction, Anarim turned towards Eshdar and said, “Did I…say something wrong?”

            “Before we got here, we…lost a friend,” said Eshdar. “His name was Ifrit Schelkz.”

            “Schelkz? As in the…oh, no! I did say there are exceptions, right? I did not mean to sully his legacy.”

            “You’re not, old hound,” said Rhynsa. “You’re simply stating the truth of the previous generations. He grew up in the streets and had street cred. He had nothing royal in him except the fact he convinced me to fight for you. Not many royal hellhounds can do that without being pretentious.”

            “Then, I offer my condolences to you all,” said Anarim. “I know it’s hard to lose a friend. I…know.”

            Lilac could tell that the old hound had been living in the world for so long he had seen close friends died before him. She wanted to sympathize, understanding that a loss, regardless of who, was hard.

            “But your friend’s death proves one thing,” said Anarim, breaking the silence. “The demons are coming, and we must be prepared.”

            “The ones who killed Ifrit…looked like deformed hellhounds,” said Lilac.

            “Deformed how?”

            “Skin and bones, feral eyes, and dangerously ferocious,” said Albert. “I can’t even consider them hellhounds. They’re…far too twisted by demonic corruption.”

            “I’m afraid I know what you mean,” said Anarim. “The Uprising was successful, but at a cost. The hellhounds who sold their souls to the demons…became the tools for the incursion themselves. Where were you attacked?”

            “The waterfall,” said Eshdar. “Two hours from here.”

            “That close? Excuse me.”

            Anarim stood up and walked out while Eshdar escorted him, leaving the rest staring at each other in the reserved tearoom. After a while, he returned back with Eshdar.

            “I warned everyone to stay alert of a possible attack. For now, clean yourselves up and rest. You have done enough for us.”

            Everyone stood up, leaving the room, still feeling groggy and exhausted after the grueling experience they all just had. The sadness still lingered among them.

            Still, as they walked out of the room, Anarim stopped Lilac and said, “Forgive me, my dear, but I have noticed something peculiar in you.”

            “How so?”

            “In my years living on the surface, I have met Lycans. I have certainly lived long enough to know what a hellhound looks like. However, you look more like a hellhound, but without the eyes and the horns. Then again, I know you are not born a hellhound. Tell me what happened.”

            “Well, uh….” Lilac blushed. She was reluctant in giving the old hellhound the information about the accident. It wasn’t really at accident since she wasn’t pregnant. However, remembering that night did not help her move on from Ifrit’s death, and her embarrassment turned into sadness. Anarim, noticing this, decided not to press the issue further.

            “It was a passionate night, I hope,” said Anarim.

            “Yes, it was,” said Lilac with a sad expression. “It was a full moon. I was full werewolf that night. After we did it, I found that I lost my ability to transform and stuck in this form ever since. I lost my human and feral form.”

            “Another mystery of his identity,” said Anarim. “He was healed by fire and he turned you into your present form.”

            “Isn’t that what happened?”

            “No, it isn’t. I have lived among the surface dwellers to bear witness to surface born children, miss Rezmirn. Hellhounds and Lycans can love each other without any accident. Yet, you…changed. This can go both ways, but I’m leaning more towards Ifrit Schelkz himself. Who is he?”

            “I know you want answers as much as I do, mister Winsel, I really do. But Ifrit’s gone. That mystery died with him.”

            “And I had stepped on the boundary. Forgive me.”

            “No, you didn’t. You’re curious, that’s all.”

            “Nevertheless, this is the time to grief. Just know that you can always talk to me or my grandson about it. But, if you need time….”

            “Thank you, Anarim,” said Lilac as she let out a smile over her lupine face. Anarim comforted her by lightly squeezing her hands to let her know that he cared. Afterwards, he walked towards the counter, resuming his job as the tea shop’s owner.

            With the support and people to relate to, Lilac felt better already. She felt that if she sulked too long, Ifrit might not like it. Blaming Rhynsa would not make things easier, and it wouldn’t be helpful for her own healing. All she could do was look forward, and continue remembering Ifrit, both as a friend and as a lover.

            He made her wish come true. He gave her a choice.