The House That Sleep Built

There was a tense silence between the two groups, neither of us making a move towards the other, as we each waited with our weapons at the ready. It was clear to see that each side of us was prepared for a fight, and that both them and us were eager to spill the blood of the opposing side. Surprisingly, even to the crew that he lead, Abinchova raised a claw to his bandits, ordering them to halt in their place, as he calmly stepped forward towards us. He moved with a calmness that betrayed the situation at hand, with steady, focused steps, his stare locked in no other direction but my own, with the barest hint of a smirk upon the curve of his beak. In response to the gesture, I nodded my head in assurance to my group of companions, allowing them to take a more relaxed position, while I made to parlay with the bandit leader, stepping forward to meet the hawk face to face.

We stopped mere feet apart from the other, the feeling of the cold winter wind blow around us, causing me to give a slight shiver of frigid discomfort. The wind fluttered whatever loose clothing we had adorned to our bodies, filling the still silence with the creaking of armor, the rustling of chainmail and the flapping of leather padding. Giving a quick glance back, I could see that Poppy, Cassius and Rush stood still and rigid, clearly nervous to the outcome of the confrontation. Kay, though, stood in a solemn stillness, patiently waiting with the sword he grasped at his side. His stance leant a calm collectiveness in face of the situation at hand, which was truly befitting of a knight of his caliber.

If he really did serve Ector, that it is.

I would have to have a more detailed conversation with the Bossk at a later time, if the encounter we were in was survivable.

Though the four of them were ready to face what may come, no one is ever truly prepared to die.

Returning my gaze to Abinchova, the two of us stood still, slowly sizing up the other, waiting for either of us to make the first attempt at conversation, to break the mind numbing tension that seemed to engulf the forest . It was the bandit leader that broke the silence between us.

“Well, here we are again,” he said in faux exasperation, the smirk he had suddenly transforming for the mere slightest of seconds into a genuine smile, almost as if he had looked forward to this meeting, as he planted his sword into the ground, leaning on it with a lazy flick of his tail ” standing on opposite sides of the battlefield once again. Just like old times, eh Lou?”

I was honestly surprised by the nonchalant way his comment was uttered, which seemed to be almost a friendly remark. The way he talked, and the tone of his voice, made me feel as if he wasn't talking to an enemy, but an old pal after a long absence from seeing the other. In response, the glare I had upon my face hardened at his comment,

“You chose your side long ago, Abe, and I chose mine.”

He gave a soft laugh, as he shook his head, bits of snow and frost shaking from his the tips feathers and falling to ground at his paws.

“Abe, haven’t heard that name in awhile. I think I can say that I almost miss it, just like how I almost miss you, Lucifer. Just almost, though.”

There it was again, that friendly tone in his voice, a tone that I was so used to years back. Back when things weren't so horribly shit, the Kingdom was whole, thousands more were alive, and when the days seemed so much brighter and fuller then they did now.

“It’s never to late to surrender," I stated flatly, trying to keep any twinge of emotion out my voice, in fear that an old fondness would creep into it,"We beat your armies on the Fields of Dis, Abe. You lost. Turning yourself in now would entrust my father’s mercy."

It was that comment that caused that platonic smile etched upon his beak to curve downward into a stoic grimace that matched my own. That twinkle of mischievousness that sparkled in his eye seemed to fade into the darkness of his irises, as his face morphed into a look of outrage.

“Mercy,” he spat loudly, so much that the bandits closest to him flinched in shock at the outburst of their leaders,”was Venom Falls an example of your father's mercy?!”

Venom Falls.

The mention of that name gave me pause.

Venom Falls was one of the Kingdom's, and in turn my father's, greatest shames in recent years, though at the time we felt it was necessary. The actions that we took that day to obtain victory in our war against the rebellious South were marked by gallons upon gallons of blood splattered over an insignificant patch of woodland in an insignificant patch of Nidstang. Sometimes, at night and in my dreams, I see the carnage and hear the screams and smell the burning bodies and the scent of untold carnage. I would wake up in a cold sweat, terrified and sobbing, as Gilda and Ellie would clutch onto to me in panic and unbridled sympathy.

Venom Falls gave not just I, but many hardened veterans of the Great Civil War terrors at night, that we feared would never leave us as long as we lived.

On that day, we did truly unspeakable things.

“You know that we.....that I regretted that. With every fiber of my being.”

“Regret?” He scoffed harshly, his gauntlets creaking as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword," You fucking slaughtered us, Lucifer! Under a banner of goddamn truce! A sacred banner of truce that even we rebels understood!"

As I faced the fuming form of the bandit captain, I noticed the beginning of tears forming in the corners of his eyes, as he snarled at me. The eyes are said to be windows into the soul, and as I peered into the mosaic of stained glass that was the soul of Abinchova, I saw the same look that I saw in many of the post war veterans: hurt, anger, and a deep tiredness, almost as if he hadn't slept in a lifetime. And, instead sneering at the display of emotion, I could only feel a lump of shame form in the pit of my stomach as memories began to flood back into my mind. Because it was a look and feeling and an aching that I could relate to, that I could understand and accept. I was tired, too.

Those were dark days, during the time that the ending of the war was within sight, and it was clear that the Southern province would see the faintest glimmer of a victory. Our tactics of battle shifted from a once patriotic sense of duty to reunify our torn country and to serve the will of the Old laws, into more cruel means of extracting revenge against the rebellious army that turned families against each other.

Venom Falls was just another example of the "justified" cruelty we used to end the war as quickly as we could, taken to a whole other extreme.

"Innocent Griffons died that day!" Abe continued, as his body began to slightly, yet noticeably, shake in fury, the deep look of sadness and fatigue in his eyes replaced by the hatred that he had so long held for our split in ideals, "Some, that you even called friends at one point, you bastard! I loved you, Lucifer, and I trusted you! Yet you, the hawk I knew and respected, even when we fought across different lines, died that day in the snow with all those thousands of others."

"And were you and yours so goddamn innocent?!" I yelled back at the griffon hawk, my own fists tightening in frustration," Your side committed atrocities, just like we did! Remember, you ignorant shit, it was you and your Democracy that abandoned Allerseen! It was you that abandoned me!!"

Once again, a tense silence befell the two of us, Rush and the others staring at us with wide eyes over our shouting match, waiting for me to make a move against the bandit lord. Abinchova's company stood at alert as well, shuffling amongst themselves. Some were drawing their weapons that they had sheathed, others rearming their crossbows with bolts, waiting for us to do anything remotely hostile so they could do the deed that they eagerly awaited for. Abinchova and I merely panted from our shouting match, trying to calm ourselves down and regain our composures, ignoring the ire fixed in our body language.

"I wish things were different, Abe," I found myself muttering back to him," Gods, Abe, I wish none of this ever happened, that things were just like how they were when we were young, and stupid....and innocent. I wish that there wasn't any suffering and death and this soul crushing heartache that fell over the kingdom."

And I honestly, truly meant that.

If any truth mattered in the world to me at that very instant in time, under the shade of the looming pines of the forest, it was that I and so many others lost so much during the Great Civil War, and that great many of us did horrible things in the name of our Kingdom. And that even if I didn't regret what I had to do for my family and my countrygriffons, all I could've longed for was that things could've been different.

I had his attention at that point. The cold look in his eyes once again began to melt, and a faint sliver of hope and understanding that I recognized in my old friend so long ago returned into those deep, green eyes of his. And that's indeed what I saw in tat moment, not a warlord or a marauder, not a butcherer who I clashed with numerous times or various battlefields throughout the years, but an old friend, a friend that I loved dearly. Which only made what I was about to say more painful.

"But it's like I said, you chose your side, and I chose mine, Abinchova. And no matter what could have been, and even though I did things I truly regret, the past is what it is, in the past, and we can't change what we believe is right."

And just like that, the light left him, the hope died within him, and that cold, hardened glare returned to him again.

"Indeed, you're right, the past is what it is, in the past. And we're not here to debate our ideologies again, are we?" Abinchova asked, finally straightening his aloof stance back up to a rigid posture, lifting his sword with him.

"No, I think not, Abinchova," I replied, feeling my muscles begin tense, in preparation to what ever strike that my old friend would use against me.

our statures mirrored each others as we once again sized the other up.

"You mentioned earlier that you wanted us to surrender, and pray upon the mercy of your father. Now, I'm asking you the same thing. You're out numbered here, half of your little troop here look exhausted and sickly, and if my ears aren't lying to me, the one you have hidden in the tent there sounds close to death's door. Pneumonia is killer out here in these woods at this time of year, after all."

Abinchova finally took a step forward towards me, causing me to raise sword in his direction. He fixated me into his gaze, his eyes, deep pools of green, almost seemed to implore me to see the sense in what he was saying.

"Drop the sword, Lou, and we won't hurt you and your new friends."

"Fuck you, you bastard son of a hawk!" Rush yelled defiantly from where he was standing, as grasped his war axe in both of his armored talons," I'd drop dead before I lay my axe at the feet of traitorous scum like you!"

Abinchova turned to look past me and cock an eyebrow at the outburst of my friend, before clicking his tongue in mockery.

"Oh Rush, how on this cold, frozen earth could I have forgotten and that annoyingly loud mouth of yours about you," Abinchova mocked in sarcasm, which seemed to do it's intended job of pissing Rush off " you know, I never did like you much, so butchering you would be more of a pleasure than anything else here. But you're not the one I'm parlaying with here, so do the world a favor and shut that damn beak of yours for a second."

Before Rush could let loose another series of expletives, I raised my hand upward to halt him from doing anything drastic.
Abinchova sneered in response before returning to address me again.

"So Lucifer, what's it gonna be? Mercy or death? That's a choice that you far from deserve."

I turned back to glance one last time at my companions behind me, each standing ready, their weapons once again grasped in their paws and claws, poised to strike at the closest bandit to them once my command was given. And once again, the order of life and death fell into my hands. It was up to me to send others to die on my word, to bleed for me and for a Kingdom that would never know their sacrifice. The most likely outcome of this confrontation would be a lonely death, in a woodland glade in the middle of a terrible winter, nameless to the history books, as they lay in puddles of their blood staining the snow at their feet.

And yet, they were still ready to lay down their lives. If not for me and my Kingdom, but just to remain free of slavery at the claws of the horde of traitorous horde before us. To be subjected to such a fate, with all freewill torn from your life, was worse then any death that one could choose. I understood their choice, to stay and to fight, and to most likely fall, and I respected it.

I admired it.

Abinchova and I walked closer to each other, each step under our feet crushing the fresh powder of snow beneath my heavy leather boots and the padding on Abinchova's paws, until our noses were inches apart.

"We choose death, Abe." And with that, as quickly as I could, I lashed out my sword from my side, swiping it downward with as strong a thrust as I could muster, causing it clash with a loud clang against Abinchova's. Maybe, If I could kill the bandit lord, it would demoralize his troops and cause them to disperse. All I had to was----

In an instant, so fast that at first, I didn't even realize it, I felt a pain so sharp, so terrible, that it caused my breath to catch in my throat in gasp, to erupt in the middle of my lower abdomen. My eyes were wide in shock at the pain, as I turned to look at Abinchova again. He once again was peering into my eyes with his deep green ones, a small, sad smile across his beak. Tearing my gaze away, ignoring the sounds of the clamoring fight around me, I rolled them downwards to see a small hilt of a dagger sticking out below the base of my gambeson, with Abinchova's claw firmly wrapped around it. He slowly pushed it in further, as it tore through my gambeson and deeper into my flesh, causing me to grunt in horror even more.

"I know you're the better swordshawk, Lou," The bandit lord muttered softly, as he ripped the dagger out with a quick yank, before plunging it back in with a flick of his claw into another spot in my stomach, finally causing me to let out a shrill, deep yell of pain as the foreign object entered my body, "I know that I couldn't beat you in a one on one fight, so I took steps to favor myself."

Once he again, he ripped out the dagger, and almost like he released bonds that tethered me onto my feet, my knees buckled, and I fell backwards towards the ground. It seemed like an eternity before my back connected with the ground with a hard thud, and cloud of powdery snow erupting from the floor. I lay on my back, trying to reclaim the breath that the blade stole from me with shuddering gasps, not unlike a fish stranded on dry land.

Abinchova knelt down by my side, extending a bloodied claw to the side of my head, and began softly stroking my matted and dirty hair, slowly, comfortingly, almost lovingly, while my hands shot downward to clasp the ragged holes in my stomach.

"It'll soon be over, Lou," he said softly, continuing to stroke my hair," All the pain, all the death, all the sit, it'll be over just before you know it. You're right, man, I also wish that things were different. But I made my choice, and you chose that knife. We'll kill Rush, but the others, if they live, will be kept alive. You have my word."

I tried to focus on what was happening around me, but I couldn't think past the pain. I knew the others were fighting, and were screaming out my name, but they were fighting a losing fight, no matter how many bandits they felled with their blades. I could only stare faintly up into the sky, watching the snow fall from the dark clouds above, almost like little shooting stars crashing to the Earth. My hands grabbed into the snow and soil at my hands, looking for any kind of relief from the suffering.

This is what dying felt like? This is what I had been doing to so many others over the years I swung that sword of mine through the fields of battle?

"I wish things were different," He muttered again, as he removed the claw from head and reached down to pick up the dagger that was the cause of my suffering, and he raised up again, positioning it over the spot where my heart would be," But we can't change the past, Lou. Sleep well."

A loud, chilling roar broke the chaos of the struggle in the forest. The bandits who were restraining the others, and who were about to cut down Rush with his own axe all halted in place, each turning in all directions to see where the roar came from. It cut through the quiet again, this time louder and closer, until a horrid realization dawned across the troop.

"DRAGON!!!"

And, within an instant, the area was a glow with bright flash of orange light, engulfing a group of the bandits standing closest to the timberline. Their garments and skins caught fire in seconds, causing them to release guttural shrills of agony and pain as they burned alive. Another yet of orange light engulfed the area, causing more screams of terror, which finally set the camp into the frenzy. Then, the sound of war cries burst from the thickets of pine trees as a wave of griffons came crashing through the forest.

Cormac had returned, and he brought the Red Sparrows!

Abinchova turned his head to and fro in horror, still crouched by my side, as he watched the slaughter of his troops once again, either by the blade or by dragon fire. And it wasn't just any dragon.

It was my dragon.

My beloved mate.

My Ellie.

The world was a swirl of screams and smoke and blood, as I tried to move my arms, still frozen from the pain in my abdomen. But I had to try, to do something, to extract revenge, to inflict pain. My sword was out of reach, yards away from where it was flung, but as I stretched out my hands into the snow, the tips of my fingers touched something. It was a small branch, thin and short, with a tip that had a slight point to it. It would do.

Ignoring the screaming pain in my stomach, I lurched up, and grabbed the collar of the cloak that Abinchova had draped ovr his shoulders and pulled him down to my level. His vision was torn away from his surroundings, and once again we locked eyes. I stared into them again, deep pools of green, filled with terror and pain and fatigue and despair, and I saw my friend again. I saw him like how we was years ago, when we met against each other on the battlefield for the first time.

That horror that he would be killed by someone that he once treasured, or that he would be forced to kill that person himself. We both weren't ready for that encounter when it happened, each frozen, not knowing what to do.

This time I knew what to do, though.

I lunged my hand forward and buried the small branch into his left eye.

Giving a shout of agony, the bandit lord reached up to clutch his face, before tearing off from the grown and leaving my field of vision.

And like that, I was alone on the ground, the sounds of the battle and cries of war muting themselves, as I continued to stare into the chaotic mess that was the winter sky. How could something so ominous be so beautiful as well?

Then she appeared. Cutting through the smoke was pale blue dragoness, the most beautiful that I had ever seen, that I loved with all my heart, as she swooped down towards me. Her beautiful golden eyes were etched with horror as she beheld my bleeding and broken form, a puddle of blood growing larger underneath me.

Before my vision began to fade, I saw myself surrounded by many different griffons, as well as the two Diamond Dogs, all speaking words that I couldn't hear, all adorning expressions of alarm and concern, I could feel their talons reaching down to grab me, putting claws against my forehead, trying to stop the bleeding from gut, but my vision was fixed upon the beautiful blue dragoness descending towards me from above. If she was the last thing I would see before death claimed me, then I would've died a happy man.

"Lucifer!!"