Reincarnation: A fight for survival

Chapter 8

Hail, King Hector," they chanted in their native tongue.

The Ra'zorlich royal proceeded to the front of the hall where a throne of steel awaited him. There he took a seat as his guards formed a line and pushed the crowd back several feet. When he felt he had sufficient personal space, the entire end of the hall to himself, he motioned a scribe forth from the side of the room. A young Nekonian male dressed in gray robes stepped forth with a large book in hand. He quickly flipped through it, coming to a very specific page and clearing his throat.

"My king, this morning, a beast of steel roared over the sky, raining down fire and a new metal across our lands. The people are gathered here to know what the king has to say. If his lordship will take action against the monster that flew above us."

The king nodded, raising his voice high above the silent crowd, "You all wish to know what will happen?"

The crowd echoed back with a unanimous, "Yes, our King."

His eyes narrowed upon his subjects and noted the uncertainty and unnerved look many of them showed. Such fear was not common amongst the Ra'zorlichs, they would slay any beast of intelligence that would dare enter their lands. Yet beasts of the skies, Dragons and Terons, they were a different matter. Nobody knew how many different kinds of those aerial beasts there were as nobody could count that high. But one had fallen from the sky above them after it had appeared from nowhere and crashed into the forest beyond their borders.

He had seen it himself as it came in. Fire had poured from its wings and metal fell from its skin. From the reports that had been given to him, he knew that hundreds of trees were hacked down in its crash and that was evidence enough to the strength it had wielded. The only consolation he took from the matter was what the scouts had said and so her chose to repeat their words.

"The beast is slain. It fell from the sky shrouded in flame and roaring in pain. Whatever kind of monster it may have been, it breaths no more."

Just as his speech concluded, the hall doors were thrust open again. Vicious snarls roared and ordered men to move aside as the warrior came through. Hearing the familiar voice, the king rose from his seat in both greeting and respect as one of his most favorable officers with golden blond fur and silver banded armor stepped forth. Even his honor guard bowed to the man's presence and when one considered their status and skill, that was no small detail.

"Hunt Commander Farok, what brings you to my court?" the Ra'zorlich king questioned as his officer knelt before him.

"My King, two humans wandered into our lands, ignorant of where our borders lie. Hearing of them, I sent forth a pack of warriors, but they took to arms and fought back... I had to personally... run them out from our territory, but at the cost of the lives of seven hunters."

Several audible grasps and angered roars echoed through the room. Groups of the tribe's warriors went into an uproar, their claws and swords high as they belittled the commander for cowardice and cried for blood.

"Two humans?! Seven lives?!" the king bellowed above the crowd, rage contorting his face as he stared daggers into what he had thought to have been one of his most talented field officers.

"It is so, my king," Farok confirmed shamefully while still remaining on one knee. "They wielded the power of gods, but swore never to return."

"I DO NOT WANT THEIR WORD!" the royal neko thundered. "I WANT THEIR HEADS!"

Farok's orange eyes went wide as he lifted his head to lock his gaze with the king's furious, brown gaze, "My king, have you not heard what I said? They came after the beast fell from the sky! Killing my men with thunder! My scout swore he saw one falling from belly of the great metal beast!"

"ENOUGH! I will hear no more of it! You will send the Shadow Stalkers to find the beast and find these humans. I will have their hearts to feast upon, or have yours taken in their place, commander. Now get out of my sight!"

Teeth grinding in his mouth, Farok bowed his head and respectfully answered, "Yes, my king."

He then rose to his feet, pressing a fist to his heart and giving a bow before performing an about-face and marching out of the grand hall to the outside. Ignoring the looks and words passed to him by the crown's tail-suckers as he passed them. When the heavy iron doors of the palace slammed behind him, he unleashed the fury of his frustration with a roar to the sky above, drawing the attention of many eyes to the angered officer standing in the middle of the town center.

Many of lesser status averted their gaze and returned to their business, though some warriors scoffed at the commander's outburst and continued on while mocking him in silence. Glaring at these men, the Hunt Commander did not find it to be their remarks that scorched his insides, it was their ignorance. How little these people knew! What the king knew! That pompous child was barely grown, claiming to a throne his father left him after his early passing and the queen's shortly thereafter.

The thoughts of the royal matter set off an inferno in Farok's belly as he stormed through the crowd of curious onlookers. The whole situation had been cast in doubt and suspicion, but nobody would dare to think the prince would slay his own parents. Farok had his suspicions, however. The child was little more than a spoiled brat that was dying to have his way, and today proved that in spades.

A passing woman who could not move fast enough was thrown aside as the hunt commander marched on toward his barracks. A hundred times over since leaving the square, he cursed his role as it had backed him into a corner. There was no choice but to dispatch his assassins, to send them into a task in which their survival was uncertain.

All to please Hector's pride.

However, if the king demanded it, even if it was for the sake of vanity, it was his obligation to see it done. No matter how strongly he felt against it.

Farok thrust open the doors to the troops' quarters and marched inside. A hundred sleeping warriors lay in their bunks while a dozen others readied themselves for a night patrol. Many more were in the mess hall at the opposite end, feasting up before resting for the night.

In a far corner of the barracks, a lone ladder led up to the loft full of beds and tables used by the elite Shadow Stalkers of the Ra'zorlichs as they waited for their next assignment. So rarely were they utilized that they lived in perpetual comfort, shrugging off all warrior's duties to focus solely on training and the pleasures of life. It sickened many warriors of the tribe for them to live so leisurely, but these women were not to be trifled with by anyone regardless of rank or status. Lest you intend to have a new way to breathe through your throat in the morning.

Farok climbed the ladder to the assassin's loft, pulling himself into the pitch black room and clearing his throat. "Shadow Stalkers, come forth."

Sensual purring circled the room as he sensed their presence around him. Their paws were too light for him to hear, their breath too silent for him to sense, but their purring gave them both away.

"Has the king a mission for us, Hunt Commander?" one of the women asked.

Trying to push the images of the men slain by the humans from his mind, Farok sighed and gave a nod. "Yes, Petra. He has."

..................................

Kindling crackled as sparks flared up from the soft wood that was stacked in a shallow hole. With a snap of his wrist, Galen flicked his lighter shut and sat back against his pack to settle in for the night. Michael and Mila were sitting across from him to his left and right respectively. Neither of them saying a word as they stared at the flames with a cricket chirping in the distance.

When the private shifted in his position so he could get his lighter back into his pocket, he spotted Mila's gaze locking on to the small device with an intense focus. Her knees were drawn to her chest and she had her arms crossed on top of them to support her head but she couldn't seem to hide where her eyes wandered to. A smile crept up onto his face as she continued to examine the the zippo from a distance, her cat tail swishing along the grass behind her while her ears twitched.

"Here, take a look," he said, handing off the lighter. She swiftly accepted the small device and began to roll it between her fingers, sniffing it, flipping the lid and examining the wick. When she finally figured out the flint, she struck the wheel and let her eyebrows rising with the small flame that erupted.

"So small, yet it creates light and fire with ease," she muttered, her irises paper-thin with her expanded pupils.

"Scared the s**t out of me when I first saw one," Michael muttered as he looked to the Neko, "But now that we're all comfy, could you to start explaining a few things? Starting with where the Hell we are."

Mila gave a nod and snapped the lid shut on the zippo before passing it back to Galen.

"We are in Atzla forest," she started; unsure of how specific or general she should be to tell the humans the information they wanted to know. "These woods are mainly home to the nekos, aviens, and lycans, but others also have claims to this place, like humans, trolls, and tree elves."

Already, she spotted Michael's eyes flickering with a stare of disbelief while Galen simply sat back and listened. The younger man taking the occasional sip of water from his canteen as he stared up at the night sky. It was hard to tell if she had any of his attention until she mentioned trolls and got a frown out of him.

Looking to Michael, she continued explaining, "To the south, if you pass the Ra'zorlich territory, you come into the Marching Hills where hill giants, humans, and hill nekos roam. Beyond that are the Roaring Peaks, where dwarves and dragons reside."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, dragons?!" Michael exclaimed, suddenly sitting up straight with his brows raised and his mouth agape. "Elves and trolls are one thing. If it weren't a cat creature telling me this I would never believe it. But dragons?! I ain't never heard of no dragons in Vietnam!"

"And where is Vietnam?" Mila asked.

"In the east Pacific, below China. We Americans have been fighting the communist bastards from the North for the past year and a half but the South has been at war with them for the past five or six years or more. You can't have missed the B-52s overhead!"

"Do you see a Bfiftatoo over your head?" Mila asked, making Michael look up scan the skies above him. "You are on Raska now. That is what we call our world. I don't know what a 'communist' is, or why you could wage six years of war against them. And this 'Vietnam' you speak of, you are not there. I'm sorry to say it but I think your world has been left behind."

With her words, the icy truth began to set in full, for both soldiers. Galen tried not to show it, but his hand was trembling and the butterflies were going wild in his belly. Michael on the other hand had both his fists clenched with the knuckles going stark-white.

"So you don't know what the US is? Or how to get us back home?" the private asked.

With a saddened look, Mila shook her head. "You are in our world, Galen. I can only start by returning you to my village. Perhaps bring you to human lands if you wish to make that journey."