《Hippocrisy》 A strangers gift ¡°Mirrors can¡¯t eat People.¡± Frend sighed as he spoke and shook his head vigorously. ¡°They can.¡± Grend nodded, smiling knowingly. ¡°They can¡¯t.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Frend affirmed confidently. ¡°Are you only thinking literally?¡± ¡°How else should I be thinking?¡± ¡°Metaphorically.¡± There was a pause as Frend changed from literal to metaphorical. ¡°Ohhhhh mirrors can eat people.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Grend said, very clearly satisfied. ¡°How exactly though?¡± Frend asked. ¡°You really don¡¯t know?¡± ¡°I really don¡¯t.¡± Grend sighed and shook his head, evidently disappointed at his Brother¡¯s incomprehension. ¡°Because if you get lost focusing on every little thing then day by day the mirror will eat you from the inside out.¡± ¡°Woah that¡¯s big. Very big.¡± ¡°Mirrors can eat people.¡± Grend stated happily. ¡°Oh that¡¯s good. You thought of that all by yourself?¡± ¡°I did.¡± Grend declared puffing out his chest as he did so. Frend didn¡¯t take his eyes off the mirror but held out a hand for his brother to shake. Grend took the hand graciously in his own but he too kept his gaze only on the mirror. ¡°So we should keep it then? Frend¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°What?¡± ¡°The mirror.¡± ¡°Well¡­..I got it for free.¡± ¡°You did.¡± ¡°Then¡­then yeah we¡¯ll keep it.¡± ¡°What about the mirror eating us? Metaphorically I mean.¡± ¡°Just don¡¯t look at it metaphorically.¡± Grend shrugged, ¡°Just stay looking at it literally.¡± ¡°Fair enough, literally it is then.¡± Frend nodded. Frend scratched idly at his beard, it was getting a little too long for the summer heat and he felt the need for a shave grow by the day. Now that they¡¯d a mirror he supposed he really must get to it. But his tusks made the task a difficult one. ¡°It is lovely, isn¡¯t it. Ornate like.¡± ¡°Ornate,¡± Grend agreed. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t see something like this too often around here.¡± ¡°You would not,¡± Frend bobbed his head. ¡°Why did we get if for free again?¡± ¡°A gift,¡± Grend stated. ¡°For us doing in the Creator.¡± Frend turned to look at his brother. ¡°Someone knows about the Creator? Will they come looking?¡± ¡°No, no, I wouldn¡¯t think so. It was one of our cousins I met. He was very happy when I told him all about us and the torturing and what have you.¡± ¡°A cousin? Bear? Bull? Wolf?¡± ¡°No, none of them.¡± ¡°Who then?¡± Frend shook Grend, willing an answer from him. ¡°Fox.¡± Grend stated. ¡°First time I ever saw a cousin like that.¡± If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Fox cousin?¡± Frend punched the wall, aiming for a section less punched in than others. ¡°I never saw a fox cousin. Wish it had of been my day at the market. I never see anything good.¡± ¡°You saw bull cousin last week. At the blacksmiths.¡± ¡°Ah but we see him all the time. I never saw a fox cousin. Never. Not once.¡± ¡°What did he look like? What did he say?¡± Frend grabbed a hold of Grend¡¯s arm but was quickly pushed away. ¡°What do you think he looked like? Just like us, half man half fox.¡± ¡°But we¡¯re not half fox?¡± ¡°No,¡± Grend rolled his eyes, ¡°I know we¡¯re not. But whatever parts of us are Hippo his parts are fox. He looks cool. But he¡¯s not as big as us. Or as strong.¡± ¡°He looks cool?¡± Grend finally turned to look at Frend. ¡°He looks really cool.¡± ¡°Ahhhh¡­. Damn, I wanted to see him.¡± Frend turned to punch the wall once more. ¡°What was fox cousin doing anyways?¡± ¡°I think he was here to see the Creator. But I told him all about how me and you done him in proper. He was happy about that. Very happy. I think he wanted to do him in too. That¡¯s why he was back here.¡± ¡°Was it a good idea to tell him?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Grend spoke matter of factly. ¡°Why?¡± Grend rolled his eyes, ¡°Because the more people know the better and more scary we look. No one will think about messing with us.¡± ¡°Right, they¡¯ll all be running scared of us now. Even Fox cousin.¡± Frend laughed. ¡°Even fox cousin.¡± Grend agreed. ¡°Can we go see him?¡± Frend asked. ¡°The fox cousin?¡± ¡°No, the Creator.¡± ¡°You want to see him now?¡± ¡°I do.¡± ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go see the Creator.¡± The twins, Grend and Frend ambled out into the garden at the back of the dilapidated tower. Trees were starting to peek over the walls of the garden now, the forest steadily readying itself for a final assault to take back what was once its. The Creator had been the one to build the walls, and the tower inside it. For hundreds of years he¡¯d kept home inside its confines, building, crafting and perfecting his many works of art. That was until he had grown careless, and when he had it was the twin hippolings who¡¯d taken advantage. Of all the many creations it was they who had finally brought an end to the incessant experimentation and tortures of their Master.The Creator had forced many designs in his long years at the tower, many of which were stronger than the twins. Those wrought from the Elephas, or even the Rhinos for example. Many were faster, most any of the Feline classifications. Still more were smarter, those of the Avian and Reptile genus. But whatever they lacked, and they lacked quite a bit, the Twins had something the others hadn¡¯t. Each other. Frend kept pace with his brother, matching every step as they meandered through the garden. Once they were in sight of the well however he sped up slightly, gradually overtaking his brother before stepping across him to get there first. ¡°Can I?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Why? You always get down there first?¡± ¡°Yes, because it was my idea to put him there. Was it your idea?¡± ¡°No.¡± Frend admitted sadly. ¡°Right. So who¡¯s idea was it?¡± Grend guided Frend away from the well''s edge. ¡°Yours.¡± ¡°So I¡¯ll go first then.¡± Nodding to himself Grend clambered over the well''s edge and let himself fall heavily down into the water below. They never used the stairs. Frend followed almost immediately nearly crushing Grend who just barely managed to step aside at the last minute. ¡°FREND. Everyday. Wait, you almost done me in there. What would you do without me eh? Be careful dammit.¡± ¡°I¡¯d go to the market. Everyday.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°What would I do without you. I¡¯d go to the market everyday. That¡¯s what I¡¯d do.¡± ¡°Oh, right well¡­be careful. Come on. Creator will be waiting.¡± The Creator was indeed waiting, for there was little else he could do. A famed wizard, and a powerful one, there were few spells or inchanations that he had not mastered in his time. His experiments were his passion however, and what dominated his work. But he¡¯d made time for other matters too. One such matter he had boasted of both loudly and often was his immortality. How even if all his limbs were tore from his body he would not die. Both Grend and Frend remembered that claim when they finally turned against him. Remembered it and tested it. It turned out the Creator was right. The Apprentice Frend barged in first. He had missed seeing the fox cousin so he was definitely going to be the first to see the Creator today. Grend came puffing up behind him, slowing down to a casual stroll as he entered and trying hard not to show his annoyance. ¡°Why do you always run? No one cares who sees him first.¡± ¡°But I saw him first today.¡± ¡°Well I was down here earlier. So I saw him first.¡± ¡°What? No you weren¡¯t. You woke up after me. I was with you all the time. I saw him first.¡± ¡°I went to the market. You weren¡¯t with me then.¡± ¡°But that was the market. That isn¡¯t in the well.¡± ¡°No you idiot. I went to look at the Creator before I went market. When you were playing with the rats.¡± Grend twirled the keys in his hand. ¡°No you didn¡¯t. You are lying.¡± Frend turned to angrily face up to his brother. ¡°I SAW HIM FIRST.¡± Grend pushed his brother, hard. Frend stumbled but immediately came rushing back, driving low he slammed into his brother and pushed him right back up agains the door. Pinning Grend by the neck he had his fist raised to strike when a fit of coughing broke out behind them. Frend forgot all about Grend and charged over to where the head of the Creator stood placed in a jar atop a marble desktop. The top was open and the coughing of the old head reverberated around the room. ¡°Creator. Grend didn¡¯t visit you today. He didn¡¯t. I SAW you first.¡± ¡°SHUT UP,¡± Grend bellowed behind him, ¡°Don¡¯t annoy the Creator with your nonsense.¡± The Creator¡¯s eyes blinked open wearily. His face was weathered, wrinkled, a face long since tired of living. Before his decapitation he had appeared as a middle aged man. Handsome, with long flowing hair and a tight beard. Clean cut and with a strong jaw. Now his hair was overgrown, his beard long and unkempt and his jaw puffy and soft. ¡°How are you feeling today Creator?¡± Frend asked with one brow raised. The Creator didn¡¯t answer. Frend had to put a hand to his mouth to cover his sniggering. ¡°I bet¡­I bet he feels¡­..like a¡­a right nobody.¡± Frend erupted into a fit of laughter. ¡°A right no¡­.body.¡± He repeated still laughing. Grend grinned. Frend made the same joke every day but it always served as a mighty source of entertainment for the pair. The Creator just gritted his teeth. It was day 678 since he had made the mistake of engaging in a particularly extreme night of drinking, the resulting stupor leaving him groggy enough for even the Twins to take advantage of. He had paid for that one night ever since. As he gazed down at Frend still busy laughing upon the floor and Grend now further amusing his brother by provocatively grinding up against one of the Creator¡¯s arms he began his daily silent berating of both himself and his creations. The fact that it was the Hippolings, the two he had used for the most menial tasks that were his demise only heightened his self-hatred. ¡°He isn¡¯t talking again.¡± Frend had finally pulled himself up off the floor. ¡°I don¡¯t like when he doesn¡¯t talk. It¡¯s annoying.¡± ¡°I know what will make him talk.¡± Grend stated confidently. ¡°You do? He never talks.¡± ¡°I do.¡± Grend cleared his throat and went up to stand in front of the Creator. He tapped hard on the jar¡¯s glass but the Creator kept his eyes staring straight ahead. He had long ago learned to ignore the ramblings of the Twins. ¡°I saw one of our cousins today.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t see him,¡± Frend interjected, ¡°But I know what cousin brother is talking about. I know and you don¡¯t.¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.Frend jabbed his finger towards the Creator. Grend waited but seeing no reaction from inside the jar he sighed. ¡°I saw fox cousin.¡± Eyes flickered. The Creator surprised even himself with the reaction. It had been so long since he¡¯d seen or heard anything that would warrant one. ¡°Aha.¡± Grend declared triumphantly. ¡°That got you. We have him Brother. He¡¯s interested in us.¡± ¡°He looked. The Creator looked. Ha ha you old fool you looked straight away. He did didn¡¯t he?¡± ¡°He did. Straight away.¡± Grend shook his head sadly, ¡°Straight away.¡± ¡°What did he say?¡± The Creator¡¯s voice was raspy, each word cut his throat in half a hundred ways but he felt compelled to ask. The foxling had once been his proudest achievement. A being capable of learning even the most complex of spells and inchantations it had been the wizard¡¯s first and only apprentice. That was until it had grown too arrogant in its own ability. Enough even to begin to challenge his Master. The Creator had decided that something was needed to humble his apprentice. After some thought he¡¯d decided that a simple removal of an ear would suffice. A moderate punishment that would re-establish the natural order. Foxling had through some machination uncovered the planned punishment however and made good his escape. Not before first raiding the precious library of some of its most valuable and powerful tones. He had not been heard of since. Until today. ¡°He said he was happy to hear the Tower was in new hands. I told him that me and my Brother, Frend, I told him that we run the tower now. And all the other cousins have to work for us. We have the keys so they can¡¯t say or do anything to hurt us.¡± ¡°That¡¯s thanks to him, isn¡¯t it Brother.¡± Frend pointed to the Creator. ¡°Yes Brother it is. It¡¯s thanks to him. His magic means none of the other cousins can hurt us. And they gotta do what we say.¡± Grend held out a hand and Frend clasped it in his own. ¡°They got to do what we say,¡± Frend repeated in a whisper. Had he hands the Creator would have raised them to his head at that moment. The keys truly had been a masterpiece. His creations were not always docile, and the prospect of servitude did not overly appeal to them. As a way of ensuring he maintained control the Creator had devised steel collars magically bound to his key. So long as he had that his creations were forced into obeying his every wish. He thought that he had also safeguarded against the key being stolen, for only if he gave them up willingly could a new owner be assigned. Unfortunately, and for some unfathomable drunken reason the Creator had done just that, willingly handing the keys over to Grend. The entire affair a disaster of epic proportions. His mind went numb everytime he though of it. ¡°Tell him about the gift.¡± Frend gestured from his Brother to the Creator. ¡°About the gift fox cousin gave. Tell him about that.¡± ¡°Gift?¡± The Creator croaked. ¡°What gift?¡± ¡°A mirror.¡± Frend stated, drawing a kick from Grend. ¡°I¡¯ll tell him.¡± Grend spoke through gritted teeth. ¡°Fox cousin gave us a mirror. When he heard about us, me and my Brother, Frend-¡± ¡°I know who your Brother is.¡± Creator couldn''t help himself. Grend raised a fist as if to smash the glass. ¡°Oi, none of that. You want to go back in the ground again? We can do it?¡± ¡°We can,¡± Frend agreed, ¡°I¡¯ll make a fresh hole right now.¡± ¡°No, no hole,¡± The Creator said forcing himself into a smile. No matter how frustrating or tortuous nothing could be worse than the time he¡¯d spent buried underground. ¡°I merely meant that the twin Hippolings of the Tower are well known to all. And their names along with it.¡± Grend eyed the Creator carefully and began scratching his head. ¡°Right¡­.yeah¡­.. we are well known. That¡¯s right. Me and my Brother Frend. We are well known.¡± ¡°Well known to all.¡± Frend emphasised. ¡°Especially after what we did to that village.¡± Grend chuckled, ¡°The one we burned to the ground?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Frend laughed, ¡°The one we burned down to the ground.¡± ¡°Where is it?¡± The Creator asked, forcing the words from his mouth. ¡°The village? Weren¡¯t you listening? We burned it. To the ground. It ain¡¯t there anymore. Gone.¡± ¡°Not¡­not the village.¡± The Creator pushed down his irritation. ¡°The mirror, where is it?¡± ¡°The one fox cousin gave us?¡± Frend asked. The Creator took a deep breath. ¡°Yes Frend. The one fox cousin gave you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s in the kitchen, right where we can see it most.¡± Grend stated. ¡°This isn¡¯t one of those cheap ones. This is a real mirror.¡± ¡°It¡¯s ornate,¡± Frend added. ¡°Ornate,¡± Grend nodded. ¡°Oh,¡± Frend moved up excitedly, barrelling into his brother. ¡°Creator. Can a mirror eat you?¡± Grend elbowed him aside. ¡°That¡¯s my question. You shouldn¡¯t steal other people¡¯s questions.¡± ¡°Is there runes on the mirror? To the side of the glass, writings, sketchings?¡± Grend raised a brow, he had not heard the Creator sound so animated since the earliest days of his imprisonment. He didn''t like it. Memories ¡°You mean the scribbles? Yes there is scribbles, but they don¡¯t mean nothing. I can read most words easy. I didn¡¯t see one real word on the mirror.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t either,¡± Frend added. ¡°You can¡¯t read.¡± Grend scoffed, ¡°Course you didn¡¯t recognise the scribbles.¡± ¡°I can when I want. If its interesting. I can read. And anyways you can¡¯t read. You only pretend.¡± ¡°NO I don¡¯t.¡± ¡°You do. Creator tell him.¡± ¡°Stop asking the Creator to do things, he doesn¡¯t like you.¡± Frend stopped and his mouth dropped. ¡°He¡­.he doesn¡¯t like me?¡± Frend swallowed hard. ¡°Creator¡­is it true? Why? Because I helped cut you up? Because I helped bury you underground? Because I imprisoned you? Put those things in your eyes? In your mouth? Was it because I-¡± ¡°ENOUGH, GOOD GODS ENOUGH.¡± The Creator¡¯s voice cracked as he attempted to shout. ¡°You need to tell me about the mirror.¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t like me.¡± Frend stared wide eyed at the Creator before he slowly turned and walked to the corner. Sitting down heavily he placed his head in his hands and wiped a tear from his eye. ¡°The mirror?¡± Grend ignored his brother¡¯s theatrics, ¡°Oh yeah the mirror. I¡¯ve a question for you-¡± ¡°No, no, NO. You need to tell me-¡± ¡°EHHHHH. No interrupting. I go first. You are only a head. You listen we talk alright.¡± Grend played with the keys about his neck. ¡°We are the Masters now, me and my Brother, Frend.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± The Creator exhaled deeply and smiled. ¡°What is your question.¡± ¡°Wait, wait, wait.¡± Frend, seemingly having completely forgotten about his earlier disappointment and sadness bounced back up beside Grend. ¡°Go on, ask him. Ask him.¡± Grend patted his Brother on the back. ¡°No, Brother. You. You ask him.¡± Frend gasped. ¡°ME? I can ask? Really Grend.¡± ¡°Really Frend.¡± Frend shook himself down and took three deep breaths. The Creator¡¯s eyes twitched but he held his smile. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Creator,¡± Frend began, ¡°Can¡­ a Mirror¡­. see¡­People.¡± ¡°NOOOOO,¡± Grend roared and elbowed Frend out of the way. ¡°Can a Mirror EAT People.¡± Frend shook his head laughing and snapped his fingers. ¡°Aha Eat, yes that¡¯s it. Can a mirror eat People.¡± The Creator shut his eyes. ¡°What?¡± It¡¯s a fiddle,¡± Frend declared. ¡°A riddle,¡± Grend corrected. ¡°A riddle? Are you sure.¡± Frend squinted his eyes as if lost in thought. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure.¡± Grend said but with some hesitation. ¡°The fox cousin asked you this?¡± The Creator said slowly. ¡°He did,¡± Grend admitted. The Creator¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Listen to me. Fox cousin is no friend. He wants to take what you have. All of it. Take it and use my tower, my chambers, dungeons, labs to continue-¡± ¡°Oh, Creator,¡± Grend snorted, ¡°If you don¡¯t know the answer just say it.¡± ¡°He¡¯s thinking literally.¡± Frend shook his head disappointed. ¡°He is, isn¡¯t he.¡± Grend wiped a large hand across his face. ¡°NO. Listen to me.¡± The Creator pleaded, ¡°Twins you must listen. The fox cousin will use the mir¡­.¡± The Creator¡¯s words were drowned out as Grend slammed a lid down on the jar. ¡°He¡¯s talking too much now, I don¡¯t like it. Heads shoud be more polite and I¡¯m getting bored. Let¡¯s go back up and get one of the cousins cook us up something nice.¡± Frend clapped his hands excitedly, ¡°Ohhh yes, I am hungry. We can come back to see him tomorrow anyhow. Creator ain¡¯t going nowhere.¡± ¡°Thinking literally, Good Gods man.¡± Grend shook his head once more at the Creator in the jar before he put an arm around Frend. With that they were done, both bounded towards the exit without sparing another glance back at the Creator. If they had they would have seen him desperately shouting to be heard, so much so that specks of spittle began to cover the jar¡¯s dirty glass. The Creator kept on screaming to be heard right until the door was slammed shut on him. Finally he relented. His mouth felt dry, alien. The attempts to communicate had exhausted him. The Creator¡¯s mind whirred. He knew the foxlings ambitions, knew his capabilities. Recalled what he himself had done to his apprentice. The kitlings, the female. It had been cruel, he knew that. But necessary. For without it he could not advance, could not understand, analyse, research. He¡¯ll understand, the Creator reassured himself, he¡¯s probably an accomplished wizard by now, he¡¯ll understand. But deep down the Creator knew otherwise. As the screams of the kitlings and female came back to him he remembered how one noise had rose above them. The screams of his apprentice, restrained, breaking bones and tearing fur in an effort to free himself. The Creator had felt many things in his 678 Days imprisonment. Fury, anger, shame, annoyance, regret, pain, suffering. But he felt something new now. He felt scared. A Change 677 Days Earlier The people of the village closest to the tower knew and understood who lived inside its walls. Knew what went on there with the Creator and his beasts. But so long as they left him alone and provided him with the necessary materials now and again they were left in peace. He focused his testing and magic on other villages, far removed from their own. Far enough away for them not to see or hear about them. And that was enough, for both them and the Creator. He even offered some of his Beastlings to the village for them to make use of. The Bulling had been the village¡¯s resident blacksmith for years now. And whenever the local magistrate grew bold enough to demand unpaid levies and sent some of his men to collect, the Creator permitted the villagers to make use of his own wolfling guards. Even the Hippolings had been made use of by the villagers. Often being called in during Festival and harvest time to serve and complete any of the more laboursome tasks about the village. So it was that an uneasy peace existed between the village and the Tower. The Creator was the Tower and the Tower was the Creator. Simple. And so it was for over three hundred years. It was because of this perceived status quo that when the Hippolings first took control no one believed them. When they marched out to stand atop the Fountain at the village Center no one bothered to heed their cries. Especially when Grend slipped and took down a large chunk of the stone structure with him. Some laughed. Some scowled. The Hippolings? Impossible. That is until Grend revealed the keys previously only ever seen about the Creator¡¯s neck. That got people to stop and listen. When after that they saw a pack of wolflings appear behind the Twins they dropped what they were doing and quickly made their way over to see. Still most thought it some mistake, a practical joke even. The Creator was not what one would call sane and his humor followed in line. Once he had offered the villagers a feast to celebrate 100 years of mutual prosperity. The villagers had reluctantly but eventually feasted and toasted the Creator and his generosity only for him to reveal at the feast''s end that the food had been human, and the wine blood. Both disguised by him using a new formula he had created. He referred to it as an amusing finale. However, the Twins were no joke. When one skeptic became a little too vocal in his disbelief Grend had picked up the man and bitten the fellow¡¯s head clean off as a warning sign. Frend had followed that up by picking out a man standing next to the skeptic and doing the same, despite the fact that his victim had said nothing in protest. This spectacle had been an effective sign that new rulers were in place. What followed was a chaotic whirlwind as the Twins got used to power and began to wreak havoc. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. They started small. Not paying for food and drink at the Inn. Then running away as if they would be chased upon finishing. Taking turns charging into doors to see if they could take them off with one attempt. Again fleeing as if anyone would chase them upon finishing. Eventually, they began to realise that no one was going to chase them. It was hard to imagine any villager going up against either one of the huge Hippoling Twins. Both stood some eight feet off the ground and had the power and force of a fully grown Bull hippo behind them. Together they were far too great a threat for one village to counter. That was without considering the veritable army of Beastlings they could call upon if needed. Finally, the two grasped the reality of their power and situation and that is when their actions grew more volatile. Rounding up the village¡¯s entire supply of cider, then finding out they didn¡¯t like it and ordering the entire village to drink it in a single night. Banning anyone in the village from speaking. Then changing their order and ordering everyone in the village to come and speak to them. Killing a man who called Frend Grend. Killing another for calling Grend Frend. Killing a man who praised the Creator in front of them. Then killing another the same day for criticising the Creator. Killing everyone with a name beginning with T, then realising no one in the village had a name beginning with T and ordering everyone with a name beginning with F to come forward for execution. Then after subtly being reminded that technically they too were in the village and Frend began with F getting into an argument with each other and tearing down the village Inn. Things seemed desperate and many of the villagers began to consider leaving, despite their obvious attachment to their home. It was only when the Tower began to run out of supplies that the twins saw why the Creator kept on somewhat amicable terms with the village. It was then that they called a Great Meeting. Wisely the villagers went for a flattery approach to save their village from total destruction, managing to gratify and praise the Twins enough to convince them to reinstate the previous terms agreed on by the Creator. Gradually, things began to go back to the way they were. There were still outbursts of destruction, such as when Grend had gone to the market instead of Frend and then blamed it on the calendar given to him by the local grocer. Frend had taken the grocer and forced him to make a new calendar there in front of him. Using the man''s own blood instead of ink. By the time the calendar was finished so too was the man. Frend threw out the calendar the following day. But all in all, things did return to normal, or at least what was normal for the village of Dun Chairn. And life went on, just as it had before. The Hippolings were the Tower and the Tower was the Hippolings. Simple. A Visitor The twins hadn¡¯t changed much of the tower''s operations when they¡¯d come into possession of the keys. Things stayed the same all in all, if not even improved for some. For the extent of the hippoling''s imagination when it came to torture was savage beatings and then only when they were in a mood. Mostly they left the killing, burning, and destruction to any heedless passer-bys or careless villagers. The Creator may not have called his constant experimentation even on live subjects torture, but it was far, far worse than anything Grend or Frend ever envisioned, or indeed carried out. So it was that life went on as normal for most of the Creator¡¯s creations. Aside from one or two who had mistakenly got on the wrong side of the twins. One of the wolflings who had allegedly stolen some ham off Frend¡¯s plate. And the Pigling who hadn¡¯t kept enough mud in the garden for Grend¡¯s liking. On the whole, however, the other creations merely remained below the tower, in its cavernous underbelly. Trapped, enslaved, and only permitted above whenever the Twins required their assistance. Which was admittedly very seldom. Back inside the kitchen the twins noisily sat down to their meal, made as always by one of the squirrellings for they always made the best cooks. ¡°It¡¯s good.¡± Frend sat back finally content after finishing his third large plate of Crocodile stew. ¡°Very.¡± Agreed Grend. ¡°Better than yesterday¡¯s crocodile stew.¡± ¡°But not as good as the day before¡¯s.¡± ¡°True, that one was great,¡± Frend acknowledged. A content silence fell over the twins. The only sound that of the fireplace crackling away in the corner. ¡°I think I¡¯ll have a shave.¡± Frend stated, plucking at long hairs along his chin. ¡°Oh well you¡¯ll have to wait until I finish. I said it first.¡± Frend sat up straight, ¡°What? No you didn¡¯t. When?¡± ¡°When?¡± Grend rolled his eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t remember. When we talked about the metaphorical and literal thing. I said it then.¡± ¡°Did you?¡± Frend began tapping his head as if willing his mind to remember. ¡°Yes Brother, of course I did. You even said I should. It was your idea. That¡¯s the only bloody reason I want to do it.¡± ¡°So your doing it because I said to? Because it was my idea? You¡¯re listening to my advice then?¡± Yes,¡± Grend nodded eagerly. Frend clicked his fingers, ¡°Oh yeah I do remember now. That was a good idea by me.¡± ¡°Very.¡± Agreed Grend smiling contentedly. He had sat directly facing the mirror and kept his gaze focused on it. Frend nodded and chuckled to himself, ¡°Ok, ok, ok. You go and shave then, I¡¯ll do it in the morning.¡± Getting up and passing by his brother Frend patted Grend on the head. Annoyed Grend pushed the hand away. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Hitting me on top of the head. It¡¯s annoying. Really annoying. Watch it.¡± ¡°Watch it? What? I just patted you on the head what¡¯s the big deal, Gods are you that weak.¡± ¡°I am not weak,¡± Grend exclaimed, finally taking his eyes off the mirror. ¡°But you did it too much. You know you did Frend. And you shouldn¡¯t pat me on my head. I¡¯m older.¡± ¡°So? I was being a kind Brother, I¡¯m allowed pat you on the head then.¡± Grend scowled but waved Frend away to return to staring at the mirror. Frend made as if he was heading for the stairs before stepping across to pat his Brother once more atop his head. Grend lunged after him but Frend was ready and went away safely, giggling as he climbled up the stairs. ¡°It was good of me to let him shave first. But Grend needs looking after. So it¡¯s only right.¡± Frend liked to talk before sleep. Usually, Grend was in the bed across from his and they talked together. The Creator had always been strict on speaking, and down below speaking was always difficult in the holding cells. It felt good to talk whenever he liked. Frend was soon half asleep. He thought first of tomorrow¡¯s crocodile stew. He couldn''t wait to eat it. It might even be as good as the one before yesterday''s. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°And who knows,¡± he whispered to himself, ¡°maybe tomorrow I¡¯ll see a new cousin. I hope I get a gift. Maybe a mirror. I want a mirror. Grend only looks at his mirror since he got it. I want one too. Or maybe I could steal his? Hehe yessss tomorrow I could steal his. Just for a little while. Just to see. Tomorrow¡­.¡± Frend drifted off to sleep, with dreams of stew and mirrors floating side by side. Downstairs Grend lay awake. He didn¡¯t shave. Nor did he want to. He just didn¡¯t want Frend using his mirror. Fox cousin gave it to him after all. A gift. For him. Not Frend, him. Fox cousin never mentioned nothing about sharing. Only about keeping it where he could see it. Grend remembered every bit of their meeting. He kept going over it in his head. He couldn¡¯t get it out of his mind. Which was unusual, for usually he couldn¡¯t keep things in his mind. It bothered him. I¡¯ll replay it one more time to make sure I didn¡¯t miss anything, he thought. Then bed. Bed and sleep. Nothing else. The morning had started off the same as usual for Grend. The village was only a five minute walk from the Tower and a small river ran lazily into it meaning he could take a swim as he travelled there. The village was empty, it was always empty whenever he went there. But he supposed that was fine, the villagers were boring, always cowering and acting scared. He didn¡¯t like them. He went first to the butcher, as usual his basket of goods was already outside and waiting for him when he arrived. Grend sighed, flicked a few coins at the door and headed on towards the Grocer and Baker. Both went the same way, he threw out some more coins as he collected the bundles. He didn¡¯t need to give them coins. But he liked when the villagers ran headlessly around to pick them up, some even smiled at him when they got the gold ones. That was fun. He made a quick stop at the blacksmiths, Grend liked to look at the weapons and armor. The Bulling was good at his job. People sometimes risked travelling into the forest in the hopes of purchasing his wares. Grend and Frend made sure that those who risked such a venture earned it. Sometimes sending out wolflings, sometimes heading out themselves. Grend liked fighting with weapons, he always used a large Battleaxe, Frend preferred a large Warhammer. The Creator used to sometimes get them to fight other Beastlings in the arena aside the holding cells. He and Frend had never lost. In the beginning the Creator had wanted them to fight and kill each other. But they couldn¡¯t do that, they were Twins, despite some severe and painful encouragement from the Creator to do so. The Creator had finally given up and conceded that the two would need to fight alongside each other rather than opposed. The Bulling was busy hammering when Grend entered, he was always busy hammering. ¡°Morning Bulling,¡± Grend began cheerfully, he was always a little nervous around Bulling. He had been one of the earliest Beastlings to be given freedom. Of a kind at least. The Creator had removed the collar but magically bound the Bulling to the village. Grend tread warily around him. He didn¡¯t like not being able to tell him what to do. ¡°Morning Grend.¡± ¡°Any new Weapons?¡± Grend asked. ¡°Some,¡± Bulling responded between continuous hammering over the anvil. ¡°Axes?¡± ¡°No axes.¡± ¡°Hmmm fair enough.¡± ¡°You want a new axe?¡± ¡°No, no, I like the one I have.¡± Grend tapped the Battleaxe across his shoulder. ¡°Is there anything else you need?¡± ¡°No, no, nothing else. Ah no wait, yes I meant to ask, has there been any travellers passing by? Any outsiders?¡± ¡°There was one.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Grend¡¯s eyes lit up, he loved dealing with outsiders. ¡°One of us in fact. A foxling.¡± ¡°A what? I never heard of them?¡± ¡°No,¡± Bulling grunted, ¡°you wouldn''t have. There was only ever one. And he left before you and your Brother were created.¡± ¡°Where is he now?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Bulling shrugged, ¡°He came around here asking questions, about me, about the Tower. About the Creator.¡± ¡°What did you tell him?¡± Grend raised a brow. ¡°Nothing, I didn¡¯t tell him anything. Can¡¯t say if he didn¡¯t hear some things off the villagers though.¡± ¡°What could they tell him?¡± Bulling stopped his hammering. ¡°Grend, the foxling is ambitious and the Creator treated him harsher than most. He has come back here for a reason. I believe that reason was the Creator. But once he hears about you and your Brother-¡± ¡°Frend.¡± ¡°Yes, Frend. Once he hears about you two if may try another method of getting power.¡± ¡°You mean,¡± Grend nodded slowly, ¡°He might want to be our Apprentice?¡± ¡°What? No, no, not that Grend.¡± Bulling scratched the top of his head and sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m getting involved. I have work to do. Just, just be careful is all.¡± Grend shrugged, ¡°I always am. Until next time Bulling, I¡¯ll call on you when I¡¯m back in the village¡± Bulling grunted but had already returned to hammering. Grend housed his bags onto his shoulder and headed back out and down the village¡¯s main and only street towards the Tower. He was almost out of the village proper when a figure came around the corner of the old mill towards him. Grend¡¯s eyes lit up. It was the Foxling. A Lord The Foxling appeared not to notice him. He walked without haste and whistled all the while. On seeing Grend he stopped suddenly. His mouth began to open and close. ¡°Are you¡­.you are¡­.are you Lord Grend? Lord Grend of the Tower? Is it you?¡± Grend looked down at the foxling. He was much smaller than him, and skinny too. Grend doubted that the foxling could even lift the axe strapped across his back, never mind be a danger to someone like him. He shook his head thinking about the Bulling¡¯s warning, how could one so small ever hurt him? ¡°You aren¡¯t?¡± Foxling looked terribly disappointed, ¡°Forgive me I was looking for the new Lord of the Tower, he is supposed to be as fierce and strong looking as you. But I guess I was mistaken?¡± ¡°What? Oh no, no, no I was shaking my head at something else before. Nevermind that. I am Grend. I mean Lord Grend. It is I.¡± The foxling clicked his fingers, ¡°I knew it.¡± Dropping low he knelt on the ground in front of him. Grend stood awkwardly, no one had ever bowed to him before. He liked it, even if he wasn¡¯t sure what to do. Thankfully foxling did. ¡°My Lord, may I rise?¡± ¡°Ah yes, you may. Rise¡­. Rise foxling.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Gene. Gene Vulpus. There is no need for formalities here my friend. My Lord.¡± ¡°You have a name?¡± Grend was surprised. He and Frend had given each other names and after coming to power they made sure everyone knew it. But none of the other Beastlings did, just wolfling 1, pigling 3, squirreling 2, and on and on. Even Bulling didn¡¯t have a name. Or at least not one he knew of. ¡°Yes, I have a name. One I choose for myself.¡± For a brief moment, Grend thought he saw a flash of anger come across Gene¡¯s face, but when he looked again he saw only the friendly smile. ¡°After I finally managed to escape the cruel clutches of our dear Creator I was forced into hiding. He sent three of his best Wolflings after me, them and a tigerling.¡± Grend gulped. Even now after being in power for 678 days neither he nor Frend ever dared approach the holding cell of the tigerling. Some beastlings were better off left alone. Even the Creator had been wary around the Tigerling. ¡°You survived?¡± Grend asked, his brows knitted in concentration. Gene laughed, but seeing that Grend was being nothing but serious he coughed lightly before nodding his head. ¡°Yes, I survived. Though it has taken me 16 years to get back here. To right my wrongs you might say. My mistakes. Only to learn that you, Lord Grend, and your Brother-¡± ¡°Frend.¡± ¡°Ah yes Frend, Lord Frend. As I was saying, I returned here only to learn that you two had already outsmarted and ruined the Creator. A mighty feat. Might I ask how you accomplished such an arduous task?¡± ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t easy. But I planned it for many years. Ever since I was created in truth.¡± The lie came easy to Grend, it was one he had uttered many times before. ¡°I see,¡± Gene said slowly, ¡°Your plan, what did it involve? Have you some knowledge of alchemy?¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.¡°No.¡± ¡°Hmmm, some knowledge of magic? Of spells?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Gene scratched at his chin, ¡°How exactly did you manage to kill him then?¡± ¡°Kill?¡± Grend shook his head laughing, ¡°We didn¡¯t kill him. Creator is not an easy one to kill. As I¡¯m sure you must know.¡± ¡°He isn¡¯t dead?¡± Gene whispered, his eyes shone with a yellow almost golden glow. They were nice eyes, pretty, but Grend found he could not hold their gaze long. ¡°No, not the Creator, we keep him safe and secure. We keep him in¡­..¡± Grend shrugged catching himself, ¡°Well we keep him safe and secure.¡± ¡°Yessss,¡± Gene purred, ¡°Safe and secure, that is most wise. Well, I am afraid I have many pressing matters to attend to, all far from here, unfortunately. I must be off, now that I know you and your Brother are Lords of the Tower I have little other reason to remain here. However, for your kindness and force of character, I feel duty-bound to give you some token of my esteem, my gratitude. May I?¡± The foxling made to reach around to a large sack tied across his back. ¡°You may,¡± Grend waved him forward, exactly how he imagined a Lord would wave one forward. Bowing low Gene carefully began to untie the sack and slowly drew out a slender package from within. ¡°May I open-¡± ¡°Yes, yes go on.¡± Grend waited eagerly trying to see what gift awaited him. With a great deal of dramatic pause Gene finally pulled back the silk wrappings to reveal a mirror. Grend could not help but marvel at its beauty. He didn¡¯t really like mirrors, didn¡¯t feel the need for one, but this. This was different. This he did want, this he did need. ¡°A mirror,¡± Grend stated, ¡°A nice mirror too.¡± ¡°Yes, very nice.¡± Gene agreed heartily. ¡°I was going to use this mirror as a means of convincing the Creator I was done with our ¡­.. our petty dispute. But, well now that he¡¯s already out of the picture I believe none are more deserving of this gift than you, Lord Grend. If you would be so kind as to accept this meager offering then-¡± ¡°Yes, I accept. I accept. The mirror is a fine gift. I accept.¡± Grend smiled, if the gift was worthy of the Creator then it was certainly worthy of him, seeing as he was the new Lord of the Tower. Grend reached out his hands to delicately take the prize off Gene. ¡°Ah,¡± Gene wagged a finger, ¡°Out of curiosity Lord Grend. Can a mirror eat someone?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°A mirror, can it eat someone?¡± ¡°A mirror? A mirror can¡¯t eat people.¡± ¡°Aha, not quite. Are you only thinking literally?¡± ¡°How else should I be thinking?¡± ¡°Metaphorically.¡± ¡°Metaphorically?¡± Grend tugged on his tusk, ¡°A mirror can eat people metaphorically?¡± ¡°Yes, because if you get lost focusing on every little thing then day by day the mirror will eat you from the inside out.¡± ¡°Ahhhh mirrors can eat people.¡± ¡°Exactly, remember that Lord Grend. Remember that.¡± The foxling smiled and Grend smiled back, though he wasn¡¯t exactly sure why, it wasn¡¯t that funny. But he felt like smiling, after all he had just been gifted a beautiful-looking mirror, why shouldn¡¯t he smile? Once he had the mirror safely stowed away Grend readied himself once more, he was eager to get back to the Tower, back to Frend to show him his new mirror and tell him all about the foxling. ¡°Well then Gene Vulpes, I¡¯m heading back.¡± He raised a brow, ¡°Where are you going by the way?¡± ¡°Me?¡± Gene shrugged, ¡°Oh here and there, but I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll meet again. Farewell Lord Grend. Farewell.¡± The foxling didn¡¯t wait for any further response or questions. Instead, he bowed low once more before sliding past Grend and back out onto the road leading to the village. Grend watched him go, something about the foxling''s smile unnerved him. He wanted to make sure he didn¡¯t try and follow him back to the Tower. He knew once he was back there he was safe. If the foxling ever changed his mind about the mirror he would not be getting it back. It was Grend¡¯s now. And he meant to keep it. It would have been better he hadn¡¯t. A lasting look Grend woke with a start, he hadn¡¯t remembered even falling asleep, only that he¡¯d been in the kitchen. And the mirror, he had been staring at the mirror. Shakily he got to his feet. It was well past time he was going to bed. He needed sleep. Tomorrow he and Frend had to take the wolfings on a patrol of the forest and its boundaries, to make sure no ambitious farmer thought to set up their homestead within the shadow of his Forest. Sighing he made his way for the stairs. But something made him take a final look at the mirror, an unconscious feeling drawing him to its surface. His eyes were heavy, he saw wrinkles under them as he stared, heavy wrinkles. I really need to start using the mudbath more, he thought. Reluctantly Grend was about to pull himself away from the mirror when he saw in the reflection the vague shape of a figure emerging behind him. He tried to force his head to turn, he was tired, exhausted even. The mirror was playing tricks on him. But he couldn¡¯t, something held him fast. All he could do was stare unblinkingly as the figure slowly revealed itself. Foxling, Grend realised with horror. All he could do was watch as a hand crept forward to rest on his shoulder. He strained his eyes to look sideways, he saw no hand, he felt nothing. There was no hand, he was sure of it. If he could only look away he would be free of whatever magic was holding him to the mirror. But he couldn¡¯t. ¡°Grend,¡± The foxling¡¯s voice opened and closed, a whisper in his ear. ¡°Look into the mirror Grend, look. All you must do is look. Feel the mirror, embrace it. It is yours, and you are its.¡± The hand gripping his shoulder tightened, sharp nails dug into his skin and Grend saw trickles of thick red blood flow down his shoulder onto his chest. His eyes widened of their own accord, he had not taken them off the mirror but now when he looked his vision blurred such was the intensity radiating off its surface, a burning sensation began to take hold of him. He felt as if his eyes were melting, slowly being roasted from the inside out. ¡°All you must do is listen Grend, listen.¡± Grend could no longer make out the face of the Foxling but his voice was everywhere now, enveloping him in a comforting embrace. ¡°Listen to me and repeat what I say Grend.¡± Grend found himself nodding, though he hadn¡¯t meant to. ¡°I am the mirror and the mirror is me.¡± Foxling whispered. ¡°I am the mirror and the mirror is me.¡± Grend repeated. ¡°What I see is what I believe.¡± ¡°What I see is what I believe.¡± ¡°When I shut my eyes again,¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.¡°When I shut my eyes again,¡± ¡°It has my soul, my heart and limbs,¡± ¡°It has my soul, my heart and limbs,¡± ¡°This I swear to always keep,¡± ¡°This I swear to always keep,¡± ¡°Now until the end, awake or asleep.¡± ¡°Now until the end, awake or asleep.¡± Grend finally felt a release and instantly shut his eyes. He breathed for the first time in what seemed an age. He felt a great sense of relief, as if a great burden had been taken off him. He kept his eyes closed, it was better like like that, alone and safe in the darkness. He felt no need to open them, not now. Now he just wanted to rest. That was his one and only desire, all else could wait for now. Forever perhaps. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Frend wiped the sleep from his eyes and yawned deeply. Sitting upright in the bed he knew something was wrong. Grend wasnt sleeping in the bed across from him. More worryingly the sheets had not been tussled or left in a heap beside the bed. He never slept? Frend felt an uneasy sensation in his stomach as he rolled out of his own bed. Grend often stayed up later than him. But there had never ever been one occasion where Frend had woken up without hearing or seeing Grend lying in the bed across from him. He knew something was wrong. Hastily getting dressed he half ran half jumped down the stairs. He let out an audible sigh of relief as he saw Grend sat with his back facing him still sitting in the exact spot he had left him last night. Still staring at that bloody mirror, Frend decided then and there he wouldn¡¯t be stealing any mirror, he didn¡¯t like the way his brother looked at this one. He supposed he¡¯d fallen asleep in the chair staring at it. Frend chuckled to himself and stopped gingerly towards his brother. He was going to shock him awake, served him right for falling asleep in the kitchen. Only children did that. And he and Grend were not children. As he crept closer he paused. There was no sound coming from Grend. None at all. Frend could not count the number of times his brother¡¯s snoring had kept him awake and yet there was nothing. As he looked closer his brow furrowed further when he realised Grend was sat up straight in the chair. In a position from which no one, not even he could have slept in. Panicking Frend forgot all about shocking his Brother awake, he just wanted him awake now. He strode the few steps between them and shook Grend hard, hard enough to wake any man or beast. His Brother flopped lifelessly in his arms. He felt cold too. But not a normal cold. Frend knew how a dead person looked and felt, he¡¯d killed often enough. His Brother had that cold within him now. He sighed with relief then when Grend¡¯s head finally turned to meet him. Frend was about to call out in happiness when his Brother¡¯s eyes met his own. Except they weren¡¯t his Brother¡¯s eyes. Instead of looking into deep brown eyes almost identical to his own now only two completely pitch-black eyes stared back at him. Frend stumbled backwards. ¡°Grr..Grend? Grend? Brother?¡± ¡°Hello Frend.¡± Frend looked around in confusement as a voice echoed around the room. It took him a minute to find its source. The mirror. Brothers As he watched a figure appeared in it, a half man half fox. A Foxling. One moment he was in the mirror, the next he was in front of them. ¡°GREND.¡± Frend pushed his brother hard out of the way. Grend fell with a thud, not even trying to put his hands out to stop himself. Frend lay panting on the floor. For a moment nothing happened, then another moment. Finally, Frend lifted himself up to peer over the table where the foxling stood with a confused look on his face. ¡°Why did you¡­.you jumped? Did you think I was going to fire a spell at you?¡± ¡°It seemed like the time for something like that yeah,¡± Frend said a little sheepishly. The foxling shrugged, ¡°Yes, I suppose I might see why. But never mind that it is good to finally meet you Frend, brother of Grend. I am Gene Vulpes. Your new Master.¡± ¡°Genie?¡± ¡°No not Genie,¡± The foxling pressed his fingers to his eyelids and took a deep breath. ¡°Gene. Just Gene.¡± ¡°Ah Gene okay. Nothing to do with Genies then?¡± ¡°What? No nothing to do with Genies, why would I¡­.¡± Gene shook his finger at him, ¡°No more of this. As you can see by your Brother¡¯s face he is not quite himself at the moment. Nor has he been since he first laid eyes on my mirror. For it is no ordinary mirror this one.¡± ¡°Ahhhh,¡± Frend agreed, ¡°No, it¡¯s an ornate one.¡± ¡°Ah¡­ well yes it is ornate. But much more than that it is magical.¡± ¡°Magical?¡± Frend looked from Grend to the mirror. ¡°What have you done to my Brother Grend.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say that he is under my spell.¡± Gene smiled maliciously and slowly drew out the keys now hanging from a chain about his neck. ¡°What?¡± Frend whispered, ¡°Grend¡¯s keys. How did you?¡± ¡°I told you, your Brother-¡± ¡°Grend.¡± ¡°Yes, yes Grend. He¡¯s under my spell. Once he had succumbed to its aura I simply had to enter the tower and ask him nicely for the keys. He was more than happy to oblige. Willing you might say.¡± ¡°NOOOO.¡± ¡°Oh yes,¡± Gene purred, ¡°Now all beastlings must do exactly what I say when I say it.¡± Frend shook his head as Gene pulled up a chair and placed his feet on the table. ¡°You know in truth I did not fully know how I would get to the Creator. My plan was to have the mirror taken in by one of the Beastlings here and then use them to get to him. But now that I am here I can see that it was a poor plan, destined to failure, I had no hope of deceiving him that way. Strange, isn¡¯t it? All these years I have plotted and schemed, my every thought only on how I might return to the Tower and have my revenge on the one who created me. I came here not sure what to expect. But something inside, deep inside of me told me that now was my time. Now was the moment to strike. When I reached the village and heard of how you, the Hippoling twins had risen to power I could not believe my luck. Everything fell into place, everything. And now here I am, ready to-¡± Gene was interrupted by the sound of snoring blaring out from Frend. ¡°HEYYYY. HEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY.¡± Gene sat up and picking a cup from the table flung it at the Hippolings head. Frend jolted awake at the impact. ¡°YOUR SLEEPING? YOU INSOLENT LITTLE SHIT.¡± ¡°Me?¡± Frend raised his hands in indignation, ¡°It¡¯s you, going on about your history and plans. What¡¯s that got to do with anything? Why are you telling me all this stuff? You are just doing it for you. I don¡¯t want to listen to it.¡± Gene glared at Frend but said nothing. After a while he sat back down and began to massage his temples. ¡°Rude,¡± Gene muttered to himself. ¡°Fine, since you don¡¯t want to listen to how and why I am here we must move on to the next stage of my plan. Grend, to me.¡± Grend got up awkwardly from the floor but immediately moved towards Gene, his new master. Frend called out his Brother¡¯s name repeatedly as he reached out to try and hold him back by the shoulders. A savage push sent him sprawling back, however. ¡°Forget it Frend. Your Brother is mine now, collar or no collar. He¡¯ll answer to me and me alone just like all the other Beastlings. Just like you will.¡± ¡°Never.¡± Frend shook his fist at the Foxling before making a dash to where his Warhammer lay beside the door. ¡°Aha,¡± Frend cried triumphantly, ¡°Bet you weren¡¯t counting on that. ¡°Actually that is exactly, like down to the last detail exactly, what I was counting on. I had to make it at least someway interesting after all. Tell me Frend, where do you usually keep your Warhammer? Hmmmm?¡± ¡°Bes¡­beside my bed.¡± Frend looked down at his weapon and gasped, ¡°You moved it here? But why?¡± ¡°Why?¡± Gene smiled an evil, cruel smile. He looks like the Creator when he smiles, Frend thought. ¡°Grend. Kill.¡± Grend responded without pause, instantly drawing out his axe from behind his back and advancing on his Brother. ¡°Grend wait, Brother it¡¯s me.¡± Frend felt tears forming on his face, he shook his head in disbelief. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. The Creator had tried to get them to fight many times, too many to count. But never once had he succeeded. But as Frend studied his Brother now he knew it was different this time. This type of enchantment was different. There would be no reisisting this. Grend was gone. Only the shell remained. His worst fears were realised as he stepped back to avoid the first vicious swipe of Grend¡¯s axe. The blow coming so close as to draw blood from Frend. The next strike Frend met with his Hammer. The clash of steel ringing in his ear Frend used the momentum he gained from their collision to swing around and plant a fist straight into his Brother¡¯s face. Though they had never truly fought for real Frend and Grend had play fought enough times for him to know that he was usually a little faster than his older Brother. But now he saw that his Brother really was not himself. Every move was slow, deliberate and without any sense of rhythm. As Frend easily swatted aside another heavy strike he lashed out again, this time with the butt of the hammer, slamming into the ribs of Grend. Behind the table, Gene watched on as his new slave did battle with his Brother. He looked on with a growing sense of anxiety. Grend was slower than he¡¯d anticipated. And Frend was not quite so overwhelmed as he had hoped. If he kept landing the strikes he was landing on his Brother then enchantment or no enchantment he would soon fall. And then¡­. Foxling cursed himself for not going to gather some wolfings or other Beastlings down below before confronting Frend. He couldn¡¯t leave now though, it would be too pathetic. No, he had to make sure Grend won. The Foxling raised his hands high and shut his eyes, he focused all his attention on Frend as he began to utter the arcane words taught to him long ago by the Creator. Frend was well in control of the fight now, his constant targeting of his brother¡¯s torso taking effect. After yet another strike with the butt of his hammer broke through and slammed into Grend he fell heavily onto his knees. Frend launched a kick sending his Brother toppling over before he snatched the axe from him and threw it well out of reach. Gene finished his spell just as Frend was getting ready to charge, the bolts of lightning went darting through the air before smashing into Frend and engulfing him in a blaze of white light. For a moment Gene thought the Hippoling would walk through the spell, his eyes widened in terror as through the smoke Frend came on, his every step forward clearly a laborious one filled with pain. But then he fell. Gene gave a sigh of relief. Clearing his throat he brushed himself down before going to stand victoriously in front of the Fallen Hippoling. He had to quickly step back however as a large hand came searching out for him. Gene scowled as he heard an outbreak of muffled laughter coming out from below him. ¡°Grend. Up.¡± Gene watched with impatience as Grend got groggily to his feet. ¡°Kill.¡± Grend didn¡¯t move. Gene looked up at the sky. ¡°Grreeeennnd. I said Kill. Kill him. Now.¡± Grend¡¯s blank, pitch dark eyes rested on the Foxling for a moment before he finally moved forward. He still hadn¡¯t picked up his axe. Instead he moved with hands outstretched. Gene scratched at his chin as he watched his enchanted servant move. He really needed to work on maintaining fluidity in those he¡¯d enslaved. But that will come, he reflected, now that I have the time and facility to practice. Grend turned Frend over and slowly took his hands and placed them about his Brother¡¯s neck. Frend didn¡¯t resist. He¡¯d already fought hard, and was wracked with pain. But it was more than that. He just didn¡¯t want to fight his Brother anymore. Didn¡¯t want to hurt him. Tears flowed freely down his face. But he smiled even as he choked. He smiled and thought about his Brother Grend. His Big Brother. He¡¯d always protected him. Always gave him the last of their food when they were in the holding cells. Always volunteered for the Creator¡¯s experiments instead of him. Always stepped in to stop those other Beastlings who tried to bully him, even if it meant them bullying him. The Creator had created many experiments, many Beastlings in his time. Most of which were family in some way. But only he and Grend had been true brothers. True Family. As his breath tightened and his vision blurred Frend knew it was not his brother over him. He smiled. The tears were heavy on his face now, he could only barely make out his Brother¡¯s hands pressing down on him. It almost felt like it was raining. Frend frowned slightly as the pressure eased slightly. It felt like rain because the tears were now coming from above, falling down to mix with his own. Grend¡¯s tears. His Brother gave one final dramatic push before he gently closed Frend¡¯s eyes. Gentle, far too gentle for a mindless servant. Frend was smart enough to keep them closed as he lay still. ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡± Frend heard Gene ask. ¡°Finally. You certainly took your time. Perhaps I should have picked him instead. Ahhhh no matter, I will make more of you soon enough, stronger, faster, smarter. This Tower will have new life under my rule. I¡¯ll achieve things the Creator could not have even dreamt of. You mark my words. My name, and the names of my Wife and son, they will be known all throughout the land, I swear it. Now then,¡± Frend heard the clap of hands and what he guessed was Gene as a chair scraped alongside the table. ¡°Where¡¯s that Creator.¡± ¡°Eh Grend. On your feet, stop dawdling over your Brother, he''s dead. Lead the way to the Creator, there is much for me to discuss with him. Perhaps I¡¯ll get the squirreling up here too, I¡¯ll imagine I¡¯ll be rather famished once I¡¯m done with him.¡± ¡°Hey,¡± Frend heard Gene click his fingers, ¡°Look at me when I¡¯m talking to you. And stop shuffling about, lead the way to-¡± Frend finally opened his eyes as he heard the sound of choked gasping. His Brother was up and had the foxling in a tight grip. One hand held the Foxling up by the neck, pinning him against the kitchen wall. The other he used as support to keep himself up. He looked back towards Frend. Frend cried out in delight when he saw the brown eyes looking back at him. They were tired eyes, but they were his Brother¡¯s. Grend was panting heavily. He winked at Frend. ¡°Bloody Mirror.¡± Grend laughed weakly. ¡°Grennnd.¡± Gene wheezed, ¡°Wait. Wait.¡± Grend stared deep into the foxling¡¯s eyes. ¡°You wanted to make me kill my Brother?¡± ¡°Yes but I swear I-¡± With a strength that Frend did not think was still left within his Brother Grend grabbed the hair of the foxling and began to pull. He tore with such force that bones began to break and tear immediately. Gene did not have time to utter a spell or protest. Within seconds it came off as with a violent tug Grend ripped the head off of the foxling. A fountain of blood streamed out from the empty hole where the head had been. Grend let it spray all over him for another moment before finally slumped down exhausted onto the ground. Frend ran over and eased his Brother to lie across his lap. They did not speak, they only sound the gurgle of blood as it dripped and poured out of the foxling¡¯s body. Frend giggled through tears. ¡°What¡¯s¡­.so¡­funny?¡± Grend asked through heavy breaths. ¡°Nothing,¡± Frend managed to sniffle out. ¡°Tell¡­me.¡± Frend shook his head still smiling. ¡°It¡¯s just. Foxling. I guess¡­.I guess ordering you to kill me¡­.It was¡­it was¡­¡± ¡°What?¡± Grend asked. ¡°It was a bit headless.¡± Frend burst out laughing as he spoke. Grend closed his eyes and began laughing too. They stayed there, covered in blood, laughing, just laughing. The twin Brothers Grend and Frend. Release ¡°What now?¡± Frend asked. It had been some time since Grend had unceremoniously ended the Foxling. Neither had moved from where they lay on the kitchen floor. Beside him Grend shrugged, he was fidgeting with the keys held carefully in his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t know Brother, I don¡¯t know. Seeing as Foxling didn¡¯t exactly hand the keys over willingly we are in a bit of bother. Soon as the other Beastlings realise they don¡¯t got to do what we say it could be trouble. We weren¡¯t as bad as the Creator was. But we weren¡¯t too good either. Remember the Pigling?¡± Frend gritted his teeth, ¡°Oh the pigling, yeah that wasn¡¯t our finest moment that. We were drunk though.¡± Grend scratched at his chin, ¡°Yeah but not enough to get away with doing that.¡± ¡°So what then?¡± Frend asked. ¡°Run?¡± Grend sat up and exhaled deeply. ¡°Yeah. We could run.¡± A silence fell over them then. ¡°We may do something about the Creator first. Have to tell him about his Foxling anyway.¡± Frend helped Grend as they both got to their feet. Grend nodded, ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll get that sorted first. I¡¯ll get the head there and you get the body. Might as well show him what happened.¡± ¡°Might as well,¡± Frend agreed, ¡°specially seeing as this is basically all his fault anyways.¡± Grend stopped as he bent down to pick up Gene¡¯s head. ¡°It is too isn¡¯t it. It is all the Creator¡¯s fault.¡± ¡°Ah yeah, that¡¯s what I said.¡± Frend shook his head laughing. ¡°I know you said it but you just said it as a throwaway comment. I said it in a deeper way.¡± ¡°What?¡± Frend stopped with his hands under Gene¡¯s bare shoulders. ¡°How do you know it was throwaway. Don¡¯t be stealing my words as your own, it was my thought.¡± Grend sighed but waved Frend away. ¡°Deeper way,¡± Frend muttered to himself still shaking his head as he began to drag the body. ¡°Ah for Feck¡¯s sake will you lift the bloody thing. It¡¯s not that heavy. Your dragging blood all over the place.¡± ¡°I am not.¡± Frend replied indignant. ¡°And there¡¯s already blood all over the place. Makes no sense for me to be carrying it all the way out to the garden. Don¡¯t be acting all sour now because you were stealing my thoughts.¡± ¡°I WASN¡¯T STEALING.¡± Grend bounced the foxling head off the ground in anger. ¡°Ah now look,¡± Frend pointed, ¡°Who¡¯s dragging blood all over the place now?¡± Grend kicked the head at Frend but as he did so slipped in the copious amounts of blood on the floor and went flying feet first into the air. He landed hard, straight down on his head. Frend¡¯s mouth opened wide in worry and he was going to cry out when he saw Grend shaking with fury on the floor. Both of his fists were balled and gone purple with the strength of his grip. Grend began to hyperventilate. Raising one hand he placed it on his head and when he turned to look at it he saw blood. His own blood. Frend stifled a laugh, seeing now that his Brother was not truly hurt. Grend closed his eyes, but continued shaking with rage. All of a sudden he slammed both fists onto the ground and leapt up, his anger giving him new found energy. Grabbing the foxling head he barged out the door, almost slipping in the blood once more. He roared out in anger again as he steadied himself and flung open the door leading to the garden. Frend hurried to follow him still giggling at his Brother¡¯s fall. He heaved the body onto his back to try and keep up. He had to move fast, Grend moved at a ferocious speed, almost running to the well. He didn¡¯t stop for a moment at it either, leaping down without a second look. Frend followed suit a few moments later. Down below Grend basically charged to the door where the Creator was kept. ¡°Ohhh it¡¯s you,¡± the Creator began, evidently surprised to see them. ¡°I must say I thought that¡­.is that¡­ is that the Foxling¡¯s head. By all the Gods you-¡± His words were cut short as Grend kicked the head of Gene again, this time with a far more cautious moment, and went forward to hoist the Creator¡¯s head out of the jar. Yanking his hand into the mouth he pulled out the tongue of the Creator. ¡°Heehhyyy,¡± the Creator¡¯s voice struggled to sound out words. ¡°Frend, your knife.¡± ¡°My knife? What are-¡± Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.¡°KNIFE NOW,¡± Grend was still very evidently enraged. Shrugging Frend handed it over. Grend snatched it off him and without waiting a further moment sliced through the Creator''s tongue. A pitiful wail screeched out of the old Master¡¯s mouth as Grend hacked away at a piece he missed on his first cut. Frend wiped down his own tongue, he didn¡¯t like to think what it would feel like to have it cut out. He was about to ask what Grend was going to do now when his Brother tossed the tongue up in the air and caught it in his mouth. Bringing the Creator¡¯s head close to his own he began to chew with very obvious motions. The act was a sudden one but the Creator¡¯s tongue was a tough piece to swallow. As the seconds turned into minutes Grend¡¯s jaw began to hurt with the effort. Once his anger had subsided a little he dropped the Creator¡¯s head back onto the table and sat down still chewing. Frend stood watching awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do. He didn¡¯t imagine the Creator¡¯s tongue tasting too good. He and Grend sometimes ate those they found trespassing in their forest, but they always had them cooked up nicely first. Finally Grend swallowed what was the last of the tongue and opened his mouth wide to the Creator for proof. He wiped the sweat off his brow. Grend put an arm around Frend and led him to the back before sitting down heavily. ¡°So chewy. My jaw is wrecked. Don¡¯t know what the hell it was made of.¡± ¡°Flesh?¡± Frend touched his own tongue again. ¡°Yeah I guess it was. But very tough flesh. I was going to cut his ears off and eat them too, but well after the tongue I¡¯ll need a minute.¡± ¡°And once the ears are off?¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t thought past that Brother. Sort of just let the anger decide for a while there.¡± ¡°You were very angry.¡± ¡°I was,¡± agreed Grend. ¡°So, I was thinking there, you know when you were going a bit mad and all. And then especially with the chewing, that took a lot of time too.¡± ¡°It did,¡± admitted Grend. ¡°I was thinking that now we can¡¯t control the Beastlings we might as well leave the Tower. Go for good. Set up somewhere else. Just me and you. Leave all this shit behind us ya know?¡± Grend nodded, ¡°I do know. I know exactly what you mean. And in fact I¡¯d go further.¡± ¡°Further? What do you mean further?¡± ¡°Wait.¡± Grend smiled. With that he clapped his knees and got back up to his feet. ¡°Follow me.¡± Frend regarded his Brother cautiously but did as he was told. Grend gathered the foxling head in one hand and the Creator¡¯s in the other. Grend led the way back up silently, he didn¡¯t stop in the garden but continued on and made his way back into the tower and down, down into the lower levels of the Tower. He didn¡¯t stop descending until they were at the very bottom standing before a locked wooden door. Frend had never been down so low before. He felt a chill, a cold that clung to his body. ¡°What is this place,¡± he asked as Grend handed him the heads and pulled out the keys from around his neck. Ignoring the question Grend took out the second key, the one not meant for the collars. Putting it in the lock he carefully turned the key and opened the door. In his arms the Creator, until this point silent, began trying to speak again, a spluttering of strange sounds came screeching out of his mouth. Whatever was in the room seemed to be the source of his renewed protests. His eyes were wider than Frend had ever seen. Grend took the heads back of Frend and turned back into the room. He walked much slower now, every step a measured one. Solemn almost. He stopped up in the middle of the room. Frend¡¯s eyes took a minute to adjust to the dark. He came to stand beside Grend. ¡°What is this place?¡± Frend whispered. Even the Creator had gone silent now. It did not seem an appropriate place for any sound to be heard. ¡°The lowest part of the tower, this is where our Creator disposes of his failed experiments. Or those he does not require of anymore.¡± Frend frowned but as he looked down he was now able to make out a pit directly in front of them. It was huge. ¡°I came down here one night.¡± Grend stared blankly ahead, even next to him in the silence his voice was barely audible to Frend. ¡°It was a week or so after we got the keys. You were up in bed but I wanted to see the tower. Wanted to see all of it. It took some time before I got down here. But I did. Before I had even opened the door I heard noises, weak screams, tired screams. Screams from someone that knew their screaming was pointless. They came from down there.¡± Grend gestured absentmindedly down into the cavernous pit. ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell you what they were. Or even what they were supposed to be. It was hard see even with a torch. The pit is deep. I¡­.I..¡± Grend shook his head, ¡°I got scared at one point, thought I was falling in myself or something. The torch I had fell down, way, way down. I saw two faces looking up at me, pleading for help. They were Beastlings, but none that I had ever seen, or ever want to see again. Failed experiments. They were standing on a mound I thought. But it isn¡¯t a mound. It¡¯a burial chamber. Full of bones, pieces of flesh and whatever else remains of the Creator¡¯s waste. Hundreds of years of his¡­.his waste.¡± Frend swallowed hard, his eyes were adjusted now. He peered over the edge, just for a moment. Still he couldn¡¯t see much. All he could see was the faint glow of white as it gleamed off of many thousands of bones. Frend pulled back up immediately. Grend took the Creator¡¯s head and brought it up close to his own. ¡°You threw anything you thought not worthy in there. Anything which didn¡¯t reach your required standards. But look at you eh, you can¡¯t even speak now. Me and my brother Frend ruined you. We could keep you around, speak with you, keep giving you hope of one day becoming whole again. But you started all of this. Do you remember the first failed creation you ever put in here? I doubt it. But if you''re down there long enough I¡¯m sure it will come back to you.¡± Grend held the head over the pit. Tears streamed down the Creator¡¯s face. ¡°Goodbye Creator.¡± Grend said. ¡°Goodbye Creator.¡± Frend said. With that Grend released. Reminisce The Creator fell for what seemed like an age, until finally his head bounced down off of a mass of rotten flesh and bones. When he finally came to a rest it was between what was left of an arm of one of his many victims and the skull of another. By the time he¡¯d settled into his position the Twins had already seemingly departed from above. He was alone. He wished now that it had been his nose and not tongue that the Hipplong had taken, the stench of death and decay so strong that he could not think without it dominating his every thought. It was hours before he even attempted to think back on his life, for what else could he do now. Time was the only thing he had plenty of. Grend was correct, the Creator could not remember the first of the Beastlings he¡¯d cast down into the pit. It was so long ago now, he thought, everything has changed. All of it. He supposed there had been three stages of his life in the tower. He could scarcely remember anything before that. He remembered when he had first started his experiments, how people had came from miles around to witness his creations first hand. How they had applauded him, marvelled at his genius. Then the break outs started to occur. One by one, each one more deadly than the last. A farmer killed when out in the fields, a boy snatched down by the water¡¯s edge. A girl taken from her mother¡¯s arms. He did try to keep control, try to make the people understand, such innovations and developments as he was creating were bound to result in some accidents. Of course they didn¡¯t understand, they never understood him. He remembered the horde of flames and pitchforks ready to annihilate him and his Tower of abominations. He remembered too how they had fled before those very same abominations, one self righteous villager hiding and cowering behind the next. That had been the start of the second phase. He recalled vividly the burning desire within him to conquer, to rule and decimate any who stood against him. The local Baron had sent out many expeditions, each one greater than the last. When eventually a small army of about 2,000 soldiers had been sent out against him he had finally been able to watch on gleefully as his much smaller force of about 200, made up of of wolflings, bullings, bearlings and a host of other Beastlings had ravaged through the humans. He remembered that moment fondly, the tigerling cutting down all 6 of the Baron¡¯s supposed elite bodyguards before tearing out the man¡¯s entrails. He¡¯d still been alive when the Creator had came upon him after the fighting. That was a special moment, he smiled as he thought back on it. He laughed silently to himself. He had wanted to conquer the world at that moment. No one could stand in the way of his Beastling army. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. No one could have stood against them, but it was not to be. Controlling large numbers of Beastlings proved too great a challenge. A mental and physical toll that even he could not manage. 200 was the most he could keep control of at any one time. And then only for days at a time. After the defeat of the Baron entire towns had been decimated, many of which he had little say in, his Beatlings running wild of their own accord. The collars had been needed then, a method of maintaining his spell over the Creations without too negatively affecting his own power. Perhaps he could have worked further on them, even with the collars it was still not always comfortable having too many of the Beastlings outside of their holding pens. Had he dedicated some time to them he might actually have been able to create the army he once dreamed of. But it was only a passing desire, he had no real passion for war or conquest, it was fun at times, and watching his own creations showcasing their own power so masterfully was always a beautiful sensation. But it was a passing one. Without any real aim or ambition his passion for war had quickly burned out. Then the final stage, for he supposed that was evidently what it was. A stage of drunken debauchery, full of psychedelic elixirs, stimulants, alcohol and a host of females, human and otherwise. Truthfully, he couldn¡¯t remember much about that stage, only that it was by far the most fun. Too much fun, he realised. The foxling escaping him should have been a warning sign. The disaster with the Hippoling twins merely the culmination of too many consecutive nights of depravity and reckless abandon. It is strange, he reflected, but having been at fault for my own downfall is somewhat satisfying. The Hippolings may have been the ones to finally put an end to me, but I signed my own doom when I first went down the path I did. If I could only die, he realised. If I could only die I would be satisfied and happy to do so now. If it wasn¡¯t for that silly bet. There had been no need to prove my body impervious to damage. I should never have allowed myself to be so stupid. Oh well¡­.now all there is to do is wait. Wait and wait and wait again. I¡¯m fairly convinced I¡¯m already somewhat mad, it shouldn¡¯t be too long before I¡¯m completely gone. Oh well¡­. A sudden tremor rocked the Creator from his spot, sending him sprawling across the shards and pieces of forgotten bodies. The whole place was shaking, the Creator was confused, he didn¡¯t think he had gone mad yet, why then did it feel like the entire Tower was shaking. With each tremor he was thrown to a new side of the pit, soon becoming buried under a mound of his failed experiments. Faces flashed before him, cruel, hideous half formed faces. Flashes of bodies upon experimentation tables, screams of pain and terror. The Creator closed his eyes, why can¡¯t I just die? An Ally After leaving the Creator in the pit Grend and Frend had decided to destroy the tower. Not before releasing the rest of their cousins, however. There had been a huge uproar when they¡¯d first came down. Evidently, the Beastlings sensed that Grend was not the true owner of the keys anymore. When Grend had nervously proclaimed that he was going to set them all free it was also quite clear that as soon as any pens were opened there would be bloodshed. Frend and Grend being the two most likely to be torn apart first. As Frend hesitated with the keys to the pen in hand, and as Grend contemplated that perhaps it would be better to let the Beastlings fall after all the Tigerling had spoken up. ¡°The Hippolings go free.¡± The tigerling had barely spoken above a whisper, yet his words broke through the howls of the room. ¡°Says who?¡± One particularly large Bulling looked like he was almost ready to pull open the bars of the pen himself. ¡°Me.¡± The tigerling came forward towards the Bars. In the darkness, only two yellow eyes could be seen. It was enough. ¡°Open his cage first,¡± Grend whispered out of the side of his mouth. ¡°What?¡± Frend whispered back. ¡°The Tigerling¡¯s?¡± ¡°Yes the Tigerling''s.¡± Frend gulped, ¡°Do you not want to do it?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve the keys.¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t take much for me to hand them to you. Here look.¡± Frend offered up the keys, pressing them against Grend¡¯s chest. Grend didn¡¯t look down only keeping his eyes straight ahead. ¡°You always talked about having the keys so-¡± ¡°Not these ones I never wanted these-¡± ¡°Just do it Frend.¡± Frend sighed and shook himself down. ¡°Hurry Hippoling.¡± Frend seemed to forget his fear at the Tigerling¡¯s beckoning. He rushed over to the last cage where the tigerling was kept. Shakily he drew out the keys and placed them into the lock. The moment he placed the key in the lock Frend fell backwards as if struck down though the Tigerling made no move. Slowly, awkwardly Frend got back to his feet. ¡°You fell?¡± The tigerling asked. ¡°Ah, yeah sorry about that. I thought, well I thought that maybe-¡± ¡°Maybe I would rush out and kill you?¡± ¡°Yeah, pretty much,¡± Frend laughed hesitantly as he finished unlocking the door. ¡°I considered it.¡± The tigerling gently pushed open the door. Frend stopped laughing. The Tigerling stepped outside of his pen and took a deep breath. ¡°Now the others. Quickly.¡± The tigerling didn¡¯t look but immediately Frend made his way one by one unlocking and opening each pen. There were 21 pens altogether. The tigerling was the only one who had a pen to himself. All of the others were shared. Every time Frend opened a cage the Beastlings quickly streamed out. None took their eyes from the Tigerling though he made no move to look at them. Some of the Beastlings nodded at Frend and Grend before they headed up the stairs but most just fled without sparing a look back. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Soon they were alone again, just the three of them. ¡°Thanks for that,¡± Grend finally said. ¡°Would of been a bit tricky otherwise, what with some of them wanting to kill us and all.¡± ¡°Many.¡± ¡°Sorry what was that?¡± Grend asked. ¡°Many wanted to kill you.¡± The tigerling said, ¡°You were cruel to many of them. In the beginning. But you grew tired quick. I saw that, it was not in you, not truly. Though what is any of our cruelty paired with our Creator, we cannot be blamed for what he brought about, you cannot be blamed. So I do not blame you.¡± ¡°Right yeah,¡± Grend scratched at the back of his head, ¡°Well thanks again.¡± ¡°You will destroy it?¡± ¡°The tower? Oh we will yeah, we¡¯ve everything set up to go there now too.¡± ¡°Good. It is time. And the Creator?¡± ¡°In the pit,¡± Frend intervened. ¡°In the pit, Grend repeated, casting Frend a dirty look. ¡°Then I bid you farewell Hippoling Twins. Perhaps our paths shall cross again once more.¡± The tigerling began to make his way towards the stairs. ¡°Can we count on your aid? Will you answer our call should it be asked of you.¡± ¡°What?¡± The tigerling turned back confused with a frown on his face. Frend had been expecting a different answer, he opened his mouth but said nothing. He looked to Grend but he was only staring wide-eyed ahead. ¡°What was that about calling? Aid?¡± The tigerling asked still frowning. ¡°Oh I ahm¡­¡± Frend stuttered, ¡°I don¡¯t know actually. Something I read in a book, nevermind.¡± ¡°You read it in a book? That doesn¡¯t explain why you would say it now though. Why would you say it now?¡± Frend shrugged but said nothing, ¡°I¡­.I really don¡¯t know. I think I just got a bit caught up in the moment there.¡± ¡°What moment?¡± ¡°The moment. Back there a minute ago, there was a moment where it felt right.¡± ¡°I did not sense it.¡± ¡°Either did I Tigerling,¡± Grend chimed in. ¡°Okay then. Well I will go. Now.¡± With that the tigerling departed. Neither Frend of Grend spoke for some minutes. They just stood there. Grend finally broke the silence, turning to Frend with a confused look etched on his face. ¡°What the hell was that about calling on him for aid about Brother? That was weird.¡± ¡°I thought it would be cool.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t.¡± ¡°YEAH I know it wasn¡¯t alright. Let¡¯s just forget it now.¡± ¡°Can we call on your aid? At time of trouble.¡± Grend sniggered. ¡°That¡¯s not how the Tigerling works.¡± ¡°Oh and how would you know how he works?¡± Grend scoffed, ¡°Ah maybe because we are quite similar in a lot of ways. You didn¡¯t see the mutual respect between us? Seriously?¡± ¡°The what?¡± Respect?¡± Now it was Frend¡¯s turn to snigger. ¡°Mr. ¡®Either did I Tigerling,¡¯ bend over a little more why don¡¯t ya.¡± ¡°There was respect you fool. You wouldn¡¯t understand, it¡¯s a lone ranger type thing. Not everyone has it.¡± ¡°What? Shur you aren¡¯t a Lone Ranger, you are always with me. Always. Last time you weren¡¯t you were almost killed off by the Foxling.¡± ¡°Almost, almost killed off. I wasn¡¯t though. Therefore, lone ranger.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± Frend waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Doesn¡¯t make any sense? Oh sorry Mr. ¡®Can we count on your aid¡¯? Now that didn¡¯t make any sense.¡± Frend scowled but said nothing. The End It was some time before the tower was finally ready. ¡°You sure about this yeah?¡± Frend asked as he carefully placed yet another box of the Creator¡¯s flamesalvo against the wall. ¡°About knocking the Tower?¡± Grend was busy with his own boxes. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Then yeah I¡¯m sure. Been here long enough.¡± Grend stood up and wiped his brow. There had been over 30 crates of the explosive potions left in one of the Creator¡¯s potion vaults. Now they lay littered around different parts of the Tower¡¯s structure, from its deepest points all the way up to the kitchen floor. ¡°Think we¡¯ll see the others again?¡± Frend asked as he came over to lean on his Brother¡¯s shoulder. Grend thought about pushing him off but was too tired to be bothered doing so. ¡°Now and again, hopefully not too much though.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Frend agreed, ¡°Had it not been for the Tigerling they¡¯d have killed us before. And he¡¯s unlikely to be there to stop em next time.¡± ¡°Ahhh,¡± Grend coughed lightly, ¡°We weren¡¯t that bad. And we were the ones to set them free as well. That surely counts for a bit.¡± ¡°Aye, surely,¡± Frend nodded. ¡°Very scary isn¡¯t he though.¡± ¡°Who? The tigerling?¡± Grend asked. ¡°Yeah the tigerling.¡± ¡°Ah yeah, very scary alright.¡± With the final box in place the Twins made their way outside and into the garden. It was empty, it was always empty, but it felt more so now, knowing that underneath no Beastling lay trapped. The came to rest behind the well. ¡°Right, you ready?¡± Grend asked as he carefully picked up the fuse which snaked through the garden and back inside. ¡°I am,¡± Frend said excitedly. He held out the vial of firejuice, eagerly waiting to set things alight. ¡°Theeennnn LET¡¯S GO.¡± ¡°AHHHHHHHHHH,¡± Frend lit the fuse and quickly turned to duck covering his ears in the process. Giggling Grend did likewise. A moment passed. Then another. ¡°It¡¯s a long fuse to be fair.¡± Frend noted. ¡°Yeah, will take a few moments.¡± Grend let his head fall back against the well¡¯s wall and Frend clicked his teeth as they waited. BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM. The explosion took them by surprise, they had expected a slow dramatic tumbling, as the tower collapsed in on top of itself. Instead they were forced to keep their heads down as piles of stone and wooden debris went rocketing through the air. The entire affair lasted only a few seconds, the stength of the flamesalvo causing the tower to shatter into a million different pieces. ¡°That was mental.¡± Frend exclaimed. ¡°Mental. I didn¡¯t know it was that strong at all.¡± ¡°Same.¡± Grend laughed, shaking his head. ¡°The Tower¡¯s gone anyways, be no more experiments there.¡± Frend got up and surveyed the damage. ¡°Be no more experiments there.¡± Grend agreed, ¡°the tower is gone.¡± ¡°Goodbye Tower,¡± Frend said. ¡°Goodbye Tower,¡± Grend said. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Beastlings of the Creator had burst out of the tower like the bees of a hive under attack. Rushing out into the forest in a half a hundred directions many kept going, far, far beyond the forest and its boundaries. Some worried that the Creator would return to enslave them once more. More in fear of the other Beastlings, ones more prone to violence then they themselves. The squirrelings, doglings and catlings were the predominant of this group. Then there were those who chose to remain in the forest and its vast cover. The wolfings and Bearlings were the main of this group. For them the forest already held a fine reputation which kept away outsiders from ever daring to traverse its confines. The Beastlings knew the forest better than most and without any true law or order were left free to do what they pleased. Outer villages inevitably suffered their wrath and so too did many villages within the forest along with them. What few rulers bothered to investigate soon found that whatever they sent into the forest was not likely to return. So it was that the forest remained as it was, a land of Beast and animals, but now to a far wilder and dangerous degree. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The Hippolings were indeed left alone. The night after the destruction of the tower two Bearlings had been killed, skinned and left hanging up at the entrance to the path up to their home. That was enough to convince all that the Tigerling remained the Hippolings protectors. There were no further attacks. In reality, the Tigerling could not have remained in the forest. Stories of the half man half tiger were soon to be heard from one end of the continent to the other. Rumors of daring assassinations, brutal attacks, and heroic rescues filled docks and roadside taverns. Depending on who one asked the Tigerling was either a great defender of the downtrodden, a paradigm of morals and goodness. Or, a ruthless bandit, hungry only for blood and destruction, a perfect weapon of war created by the Creator. The truth likely lies somewhere in between. As for the Hippolings, they soon became a thing of legend. Growing from clumsy, accidental victims who through the Creator¡¯s own misguided sense of invincibility and carelessness somehow came into possession of power enough to destory the Tower and the Creator along with it. To cunning, formidable twins, one complementing the other as they schemed and plotted their way to victory over their drunken Master. The truth lies a great deal more towards the former. A great deal. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The twins didn¡¯t do much the day after the destruction of the Tower, or the next. Grend because he needed to regain his strength and Frend because he was still feeling volts of lightning sizzling intermittently around his body. The had taken up residence at an old cottage that once supposedly belonged to the Creator in a time when he was known only as the Wizard. A small thatched building with only three rooms the twins felt more at home in its cosy confines than they ever had in the Tower¡¯s shadowy interior. It was after breakfast on the third day when they both finally felt themselves again. ¡°A good breakfast that.¡± Frend said contentedly. ¡°Lovely eggs.¡± ¡°Very lovely,¡± Grend agreed. ¡°You are keeping the head then?¡± Frend raised a brow. ¡°I am.¡± Grend replied. ¡°Why?¡± Grend sighed and put down the knife he¡¯d been using to clean the foxling¡¯s skull. ¡°Why? Because it¡¯s cool. Taking the head of your enemy. And it sends a message.¡± ¡°How¡¯s that cool?¡± Frend asked crinkling his face. ¡°And what kind of message is it, heads are to be buried, enemy or not. And it¡¯s weird having it lying about the place. We¡¯ve the two Bearlings already up beyond. Do we need anymore of that stuff.¡± ¡°Yes actually we do. And the Bearlings weren¡¯t us, this is a personal thing. It¡¯s not weird either, I just didn¡¯t want him going in the pit with the rest. With the Creator.¡± ¡°Why? The foxling tried to kill you. Genie was crazy.¡± ¡°So?¡± Grend place his fingers on his eyelids. ¡°All the beastlings are crazy, that¡¯s the Creator¡¯s fault remember. It¡¯s all his fault.¡± ¡°So you are honoring him?¡± ¡°Yes I am honoring him.¡± Frend sighed and threw his hands up in exasperation. ¡°Sometimes I don¡¯t get you Brother.¡± ¡°Whatever Frend.¡± Frend said. ¡°Whatever Grend.¡± Grend said. They sat in silence, Grend with his focus only on cleaning the skull, Frend only on pretending to ready an old fairytale book while watching Grend cleaning the skull. ¡°Grend.¡± Frend lay down his book. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Are we the Heroes. In the Creator¡¯s story?¡± ¡°Well.¡± Grend tapped the knife off his tusk, ¡°I guess we are really yeah.¡± ¡°What about the killing we did, and the other stuff, the-¡± ¡°What about it?¡± Grend interrupted. ¡°I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s just. We don¡¯t seem very heroey to me. You know?¡± Grend shrugged, ¡°That makes us more heroey.¡± ¡°It does? You sure?¡± ¡°Sure I¡¯m sure.¡± ¡°How?¡± Frend asked, failing to keep the hope out of his voice. ¡°Well.¡± Grend sat back in his chair. ¡°If not for us the Foxling would have taken the Creator¡¯s place. He seemed like the type of lad to really do some damage. We saved a lot of people stopping him.¡± ¡°Ya reckon?¡± Frend asked. ¡°I do.¡± Grend stated confidently. ¡°What about the bad things we did then?¡± ¡°Ah c¡¯mon sure we could do bad things for another fifty years and not be anywhere near what the Foxling could have done.¡± ¡°So we have¡­.like¡­like credit or something.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Grend sat back up. ¡°We¡¯ve loads of hero credit. We¡¯re good guys for at least another 50 years.¡± ¡°Oh well that¡¯s a relief, I¡¯ll forget about it so.¡± ¡°Do.¡± ¡°For fifty years anyways.¡± Frend said. ¡°For fifty years anyways.¡± Grend said.