Damnation

Lebethia

   Xerxes sighed, sitting upon his throne. “Is something the matter, my lord?” Beroxn asked, who was stationed in his throne room. “Nothing seems to entertain me any more. Even the spars that take place are getting boring.” Xerxes replied. Beroxn looked to the lion, “You still need a ma-” “You are not to be giving me advice, knight.” Xerxes growled, cutting off Beroxn. The fish looked away, not wishing to be scolded any longer. “Entertain me, fish.” Xerxes growled. “I am a knight, not a jester.” Beroxn replied, annoyed that her king would order the general of his army to entertain him. “That was an order.” The lion roared. Beroxn begrudgingly pulled the sheathed sword from her belt, letting it clatter to the ground.

   “... And that was how I saved the fair maiden.” Darius finished. “ By the Dark Lord SHUT UP!” Belren shouted. Darius chuckled, “I know you just want to get lai-” “NOOOOOO! SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP!” Belren cried out, trying to save himself from embarrassment. This only caused a scene. The villagers that stood around them stared and looked confused. Darius burst out into full out laughter. Belren hid his face in his hands. “You certainly act like a demon.” Darius chortled out, sarcastically. “I am not a demon. I summon them, you idiotic baboon.” Belren replied. “You wound me, ram.” The bull sighed, pretending to sound hurt. “Hey look! A pub! C’mon Belren!” Darius cheered, pulling Belren into the tavern. “Don’t drag me with you!” Belren cried out. “Don’t be a party pooper and have a drink!” The bull chirped, shoving an alcoholic beverage into Belren’s hands. “I am NOT drinking this.” The dark ram said, trying to push the beverage back towards the bull. “You ARE drinking this.” Darius said, pushing the drink back at Belren. “Fine.” The ram sighed out, sipping from the mug. The sips turned into chugs. One cup turned into two, two cups turned into eight. And a sober, proper ram turned into a drunken mess.

        Four orbs of golden yellow can be seen from the darkest corner of the restaurant, secretly watching; observing. Soft breathing could be heard if you dared to get close enough. Those eyes stared, watching everything that moved. They waited, waited for their target to arrive. The bell at the door rang sharply. Something glinted in the corner, as if the owners of those eyes pulled something out of their pocket. A wolf wearing a black coat sat on the other side of the dark room. The wolf stared at the eyes; the eyes stared at the wolf. Each waiting for the other to make a move. “I know your going to try to assassinate me.” a female voice rang out. The eyes blinked, curious. “You know that I’m not from around here and you don’t like that.” she spoke again; the eyes blinked again, as if in understanding. “But I know you aren’t going to kill me.” She stated, as if she knew the future. “And how do you know we won’t?” a young male voice asked, being the owner of a pair of the golden eyes. “Because if you do, there will be war.” she said. “How so?” a young female voice asked. “I am the princess of Damaria.”