Pov: ?????

They didn’t even let him scream, otherwise I would have heard it. No, they simply decided in the morning that he didn’t serve for their uses; so why kept it? Why feed and care for a disobeying creature?

Is not like they respected them, and it wasn’t as if I have expectations that they would someday, but by the end of the morning, when I went out for a walk, I was received by the nightmarish view of my poor, proud lion body stretched in a metal structure and been skinned, while others took the talons and tail off to sell.

The only appealing part is that he was already dead.

My throat closed and I wanted to scream at them, kick them to death, or cry until everything was over, but nothing would change, nothing would bring him back from the dead.

He had a shitty life and a terrible death, and for what? For been an animal? For the sake of humans? For their greed?

I knew there were eyes watching me, that’s why I keep my face unchanged and passed the scene as if nothing happened. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, no…I though clenching my jaw hard.

~~~~

From that day on I would run away hidden at night, trying the best way I could to help the magical creatures; stealing food for them, cleaning their wounds, even making a hole on a cage so the unbound ones could escape without anyone getting suspicious of me.

Still, felt like it wasn’t enough.

Every day creatures would come and go, some pulling carts, others used as pets, warriors, shields… The mere thought made my hand clench. The mere memory of his body made my skin crawl and my mouth dry.

That’s why I started to train alone in secret.

The first time was scary; a gigantic spider attacked me, and I lost the sword running away, but slowly I started to get better, little by little, sluggish for having to learn alone and making many mistakes in my path.

But still, I endured.

I couldn’t fear, I couldn’t hesitate, otherwise this weakness would show in my eyes and actions and would be exploited by those who wanted to do me harm, and I wouldn’t be able to protect anyone.

Which were plenty, from the moment of my birth, or rather, because of my birth.

I was the son of the King himself so why, would you ask, was I mistreated, scorned?

Is because I’m a half breed, hybrid, bastard, or whatever name some would like to come up with. Prince was only a title; a bad one for me, giving me this prison of a house and this foreman of servants; and for being a bastard coming out of the wedding, out from the Queen's sons and daughters, I didn’t even get a chance to live in the palace; which at least I was thankful for; and either the throne for that matter.

I was only a toy, discarded sideways in hopes that I would disappear on my on.

I wouldn’t give them the pleasure though.

One of these days, however, I was hunting goblins, training my archery and swordplay, when a thief-hobgoblin sneaked up behind me, making me use my bow as a shield, rendering it useless.

Damn.

I jump back, taking my short sword from the sheath, and paring another quick attack, clenching my teeth from the force of the impact, my hands shaking on the hilt.

He put more strength into it, bringing me down to my knees, both hands firmly holding the sword in place, but to no use, as I knew I would lose this battle of strength.

Sweat was covering my back, and, as I was thinking that I couldn’t see a way out of this situation, an arrow pierces the creature square in the eye, straight through the skull.

Stunned I was almost covered by his falling corpse. Looking back I see that the others goblins had the same fate, and from the forest a huge deer comes out of, caring a man, no, an elf, his shoulder short white hair brought back in a little ponytail, his blue eyes looking straight at me.

Others elves came from the woods, dismounting and retrieving the arrows, but once they notice that the one on the deer was looking out in the woods, they stop what they are doing and stay on guard, noticing me.

“****! ***,****”

The one on top of the deer stretches his hand sideways, stopping them on their tracks. He then dismounts his deer elegantly, letting me see, as he approaches, tattoos covering his chin, neck, and hands.

He comes closer, so I stand on my feet and run as if my pants were on fire. I didn’t look back, but the elf didn’t try to reach or follow me, just looked as I disappeared in the distance.

But that wasn’t the last time I saw him.

Many times I would go out to hunt, and many others he would appear and intervene once the things got tricky, which were fewer and fewer.

Just like that, two years had passed, and long ago I started to understand his language and costumes, one perk for having a huge free library at my disposal.

“Elder.” I bowed as he comes closer, getting acquainted with his culture, my culture, in these past years, as I retrieved an arrow from my prey.

Forgot to add, hm, that I’m a half-elf. Probably the reason why the Elder elf felt obligated to help me all those years, because his kind; well, our kind; were thought to be devils that enslaved men with their beauty far before I was born, not that my elven mother helped with that image once she “conquered” even the heart of our mighty king.

 

Thankfully he got away from her spell and gave her justice, unfortunately not before having an offspring.

A fruit germinated in the devil’s womb.

Lovely for me, right?

The situation between the races grown more and more unfriendly, even more because men insisted on invading the elven woods, worst so to explore and destroy the places. Some humans disagree with their actions, even supporting the elven opinion but, in the end, money talked louder to them.

I didn’t care about those affairs though, and why should I? I would never be the king, nobody would want me for work, so why should I care about humans and their society? They would rather have me gone.

With the elves it was different. Of course, there were still many who didn’t like my haft-human part, but most of them knew not to blame the kid for the sin of their parents.

Better those who treat me with indifference but still teach me than the ones who despise me and would be glad to throw me to the wolves.

Why then, would you ask, you still go back every night to the castle?

Simple, to dry out the resources that my “father” had, too exhausted and use what I could, buying books, armors, swords, anything and everything I could to evolve faster.

As I got training more and more, however, an uneasy feeling grow in me.

It started with just a hunch, a gut feeling, like the one I felt that compelled me to stay in our summer castle instead of the main one, were, in the end, I could freely move and save more magical creatures.

Including the little Hell Hound in the forest.

But then it started to get stronger, sometimes I could felt the danger of big events before they happened, like the invasion of a city by demonic creatures, and avoid visiting there like I was supposed to.

Strange was, sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Not very reliable I would say.

Fewer years passed that way, adding that the humans were glad to see me less and less, until the day I finally went to explore a dungeon.

Most elves were just neutral, adding a few girls who tried to talk to me, but in the end they were scared away, remaning the one that hated me for no reason.

Though if I knew that their neutral side would make me lower my guard and the dumb boys would have the guts to make me fall in one of the huge holes, I would have taught them a lesson beforehand instead of ignoring their simplistic swearing words.

Now I paid my naivety with a broken leg and scratches all over my body.

But the near death experience changed something in me from that day forward. Even though I stayed down there, alone, for two days, trying my best to fix my wounds, without water and with more and more monsters coming close, I didn’t feel despair, on the contrary, I was calmer than ever, even happy, eager.

And I wasn’t surprise as I should once the Hell Hound appears. Thilgon. Thilgon. Sounded very familiar.

I analyze him many times after that, with a nostalgic feeling to it, watching his strong muscles cover by short fur, his curious gaze, his smirk fangs smile, his silver eyes.

But nothing, nothing could have prepared me for the fight with the Queen.

I was so livid, so upset, and yet so calm, like a blade, cold for the killing. I watched him after I stopped the effects of their mind control been attacked, to attack, and once on the ground he changed, but not to his dog form.

To his human form.

And that was like a pin falling in the deeps of my mind.

And I remembered.

Everything.

I remember my past life. I remember knowing Thilgon deeply, and yet never being able to reach him. He was far different from what he is now, and I remember he told me once, that’s why I was there, that’s why my instincts knew, they remembered before me.

His brother was supposed to die the day I rescued him.

Alone, hurt, hungry, he was easy prey for any creatures around, and unconscious he didn’t give much trouble for any hunter lurking around.

I remember the rage that shone in Thilgon’s eyes the day he told me that, with so, so much grief and pain. And, after seeing him fight those humans at the camp, I could understand what it meant to him the loss of his brother.

The past him was utterly consumed by revenge, by anger, so much that the only thing he cared about was to hunt them down, lever looking at me, even despising my human side, a killing machine he was.

But that would change.

I already changed that.

And I wouldn’t give up this time.

I look up to the Queen and smile, seing clearly a shiver run down her spine.

“Begone, insect, before I rip your heart out and give it to the dogs.” She was pulled back by my tone of voice, but that was hardly enough to make her fall back, even more coming from a “kid”, so she laughs, a nervous laugh as to gain control of the situation.

“You think you can-“

Before she can continue I’m in front of her, a spear of light going through her body, the electric lightening’s in it moving in a wave motion all over the spear and into her body. She inflates as a puffer fish and explodes, making a mess of the floor, but not reaching me beyond my barrier.

I move my spear fast, spilling the blood off from its tip, and making the weapon vanish.

She wouldn’t die with just that but, for now, it was enough, as I had better things to do.

I look at the small figure curled up in a ball, breathing hard and holding on his sides, and smile.

And I wasn’t that weakling anymore, I would not let anything get you from me.

That’s a promise.

My little hound.

~~~~

Wait, what’s this??

A

Double

Update?!

*Le Gasp*

Well, big, the biggest, the ultimate biggest big thanks to all my readers!!! Never thought this story would grow so much, sob sob.

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12/21/2018à 02/02/2019

༼☯﹏☯༽

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