Up high, seated upon the golden shingles of Palace of Kyyoro, Tarquinta looked
down upon the fighting soldiers. Though they were quite a distance from the
Palace, she could see accurately who was prevailing.
The red Shoyru studied them carefully. Her psychic senses were kicking in.
Herongedy was angry – they pledged the war. She concentrated hard. Kyyoro soldiers
mostly in gold – Herongedy in silver steel. Herongedy… they wanted something
Kyyoro didn’t have…
Herongedy! Tarquinta jumped at how familiar the name sounded. Sighing, she
knew she had to do something.
“Ummm,” she thought. “Herongedy…” Tarquinta sighed. “A sin is a sin, evil
in the act of a good deed.”
So, vowing not to destroy, Tarquinta stared down at the silver warriors. Her
eyes turned green evilly.
As if by eternal causes, the soldiers she had focused on fell flat on their
backs. She shifted her head quickly. More soldiers were knocked to the ground.
Karyji looked at his warriors, whose wounds were not visible. Alarmed he looked
to Kvlar, who couldn’t make sense of what had happened either.
Soon, Kyyoro’s enemy was completely eliminated, and the roars of the Wocky
warriors broke the puzzling silence. Then, the perplexed army scanned around
them for reason.
But Tarquinta was already gone.
And so was Karyji…
Bessira the golden Meerca struggled as the evil Sorceress beat her mercilessly.
“Where are my articles?” The cold-hearted Sorceress asked harshly.
“I told you,” Bessira cried between sobs. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”
The ruthless Sorceress looked at her henchman and nodded. Her evil henchman
issued another punch right to Bessira’s stomach.
Bessira screamed. “I don’t know what you want!”
The henchman hit the Meerca again.
Bessira cried softly as she whispered to herself, “This is a dream, Bess,
all a dream. You’re asleep in Happy Valley. This is a dream. Oh, please be a
dream…”
The Sorceress scowled. “Talk, stupid Meerca!” She herself punched the crying
Meerca and stormed out of the dungeon, leaving Bessira chained and alone.
Karyji… Episcal replayed the horrid scene in his mind as he lay, barely alive.
Karyji… walking towards him, hand at his waist. Grinning.
Episcal blinked weakly.
“Episcal, good old friend.”
“Friend. Right.”
“Watch your back, Corporal.”
“Watch yours.”
Episcal’s heart raced thinking about what had happened.
Karyji drew his sword. “Come on, Episcal. Let’s settle this whole thing, one-on-one.
Unless, you’re too scared to.”
“Let our armies settle it.”
“Spoken like the true coward you are, Corporal.”
“Quiet – ”
Shooting, horrid pain. Stabbed. Episcal cried out. Faintly, falling to the
ground, Episcal saw Karyji, cackling above him. “I always win.” He laughed.
“Always.”
Sweat ran down Episcal’s cheeks. Karyji lifted his dirty foot and stuck it
in Episcal’s wound. He rubbed it in, assumed at Episcal’s cries.
“True warrior, my Neggs, Episcal.” Karyji scowled. “You can’t win.”
“You can’t win,” The words echoed in Episcal’s head and he cried out.
Bessinia ran into the emergency room as soon as she heard the shrill scream.
“Episcal, what’s wrong?”
Episcal panted breathlessly. He slowly put his head on his pillow as Bessinia
stroked the fur on his forehead.
“We’ve brought the Healer into the Palace. She’s preparing, and soon she’ll
be in here to nurse your wounds.” Bessinia had a way of gingerly calming anything
short of a raging Grarrl. She slowly walked out the door and greeted the Healer.
“He’s frantic right now,” she told the Aisha. “Give him something to calm him,
Asaunia, and then heal his wounds. After that, wrap his open cuts and give him
something to soothe him so he sleeps.”
Asaunia the Healer nodded. “I am wise with my Healings. He’ll be fine soon.”
The Healer entered the room with her cart of potions, herbs, roots, spices,
and recipes. “Good day, Corporal,” she bowed before the bed.
Episcal nodded solemnly.
Asaunia stood on her hind legs to reach the cart and mixed together two potions,
one green and one bright, bright yellow. Then, in a separate bowl she crushed
a root and added the potion, making a goopy mixture.
“Now, Corporal, relax and lay your head down.” She slowly rubbed the chill
mixture on the injured corporal’s forehead.
Episcal remained tense. Karyji was out there and the Kyyoro army might be
wiped out without a leader.
“Slacken, Corporal, you’ve worked hard,” Asaunia began mixing more potions
together to heal Episcal. “Relax…”
Episcal struggled to regain his breath. He breathed sharply and could barely
see. All this time he didn’t cry. He was only a corporal up against his mortal
enemy who was a major. He stood no chance.
The army ran into the Palace chanting loudly. They raised to golden flag of
Kyyoro and congratulated each other. Those injured checked into the Hospital
Wing, and Asaunia helped them while she waited for the tense Corporal to calm.
Queen Kyyoro wiped her eyes as she heard the chants coming from outside the
Meeting Room. She shook her head gently at the celebrating Wockys.
Everyone in the shelters cheered, though they knew that they must remain in
the small room. Anger_Fire was thrilled, but he had to speak to the queen. He
was denied access to the castle, of course, and he spent the rest of the day
sulking.
As night rolled around and he lay in his musty cot, he knew that the war was
not yet over.
And that was the last thing he pondered; that was the night we was captured…
King Herongedy was in a foul mood; his army was wiped out, and what his slaves
thought would please him was a puny Shoyru. Anger_Fire wiped the tears away
from his eyes and got to his feet.
The king towered over him. Max_Sam sulked cowardly in the corner of the room,
still shaking from fear. When he had presented his leader with the hostage,
he had been beaten until he explained what had happened outside at the battle
scene.
“Maybe you can be useful, Shoyru,” the King Herongedy scowled at the sight
of Max_Sam in the corner. “Tell us where the you are hiding the orb and I will
not destroy you. Refuse and I will beat you myself.”
“Orb?” Anger_Fire asked boldly. He wasn’t nearly scared. “We ain’t got no
orb, fool.”
“I don’t believe you, liar.” The king eyed the Shoyru suspiciously.
“Believe what you want, you won’t find any orbs in our Palace,” Anger_Fire
looked away from the king hurriedly.
Herongedy was still skeptical. “You are very patriotic. But if there is no
orb in your Palace, who robbed us on the night of our annual ball?”
Anger_Fire cocked a red eyebrow. “Ball? Beats me. How do I know you’re not
lying to trick me, or something?”
“Because I just want my orb back!” The king hollered. “You’re the red Shoyru
who robbed us! You cursed our Kingdom!”
Anger_Fire laughed daringly. “Me? Jeez! I can’t cast any curses! Want my magic
school report? It’s in my dresser drawer and I guarantee you I failed.”
“But it was a red Shoyru who looked just like you!” The king swore.
“Wow, it’s almost as if we’re an entire species!” Anger_Fire laughed at the
sheepish king.
“Quiet!” Herongedy demanded. He turned to his henchman. “Hold this Shoyru
hostage. He may be useless” – he narrowed his eyes at Anger_Fire – “but the
queen might come looking for him.”
Herongedy’s armies had sneaked to the back of the castle and were planning
their attack. “Now, you four go straight to the queen and get her. The three
of you stay here and guard. The rest of you come with me.” A strong Eyrie instructed
his troops.
“I have a question, sir,” a voice called out.
The Eyrie turned hastily. “Yes?”
“How long before you scream?”
With that, thick smoke filled the air. The confused soldiers cried out, their
voices muffled by the clouds. When the haze cleared, they were gone.
To be continued... | 
