The King of Rats Returns

I examine my hands. Clawless and dirty, but uninjured. Then the rest of my body. I’m covered only by loose and dirty bandages, but I’m very much intact. My skin is bloody but whole. I swear, each time I look at myself I get more muscular. Zeale’s in for a surprise when I get back.

Then I notice my surroundings as well as a stench that would make a skunk puke. Trees loom over me, blocking the morning Sun and creatures hide behind them staring at me with hungry yet cautious eyes. The smaller ones, about as tall as Toross looked like they just crawled out of the grave. They look like people, except their skin is ghastly and thin to the point they seem like bones and they have long slender fingers. It’s as though their hands are mimicking knives. One stares at me with large dark eyes while opening and closing his gigantic mouth as if he were pretending to eat my entire torso. As I stare at him, chills overwhelm my spirit, and a ravenous hunger consumes my thoughts. I want to eat. Eat what? I want flesh. Elven flesh. When I look away, the feeling subsides.

My attention is drawn to the bigger creatures. Even though they share the same humanistic features of the smaller creatures they tower over the others like humans over dwarves. Instead of hiding behind trees, they act like them. Standing completely still waiting for me to move. The biggest difference is the head. The head was replaced by the skull of a stag with lines of muscles holding the jaws together. Their antlers stretch out of their heads like branches without leaves. I catch the gaze of one.
Tiny green lights jolt back and forth in the deepest parts of the eye sockets, but they stay fixed on one thing. Me. As soon as our eyes lock, I begin to desperately eat my own arm and the air around turns deathly cold.

I break my gaze and stumble back. With a step back, all the creatures around me follow. Each taking a singular step to keep their distance from me. The bite marks in my arm are bleeding, but I should be fine. But these bite marks don’t look like a person’s. When I feel around in my mouth, I notice that some of my teeth have turned into small fangs. Might be an effect of being a werewolf.

That aside, somehow, I know these are wendigos. They’re spirits with an endless hunger for human flesh. This must be the Lord of the Moon’s knowledge. I should be able to beat them in a fight. If I still had the power of a werewolf. For now, I have to rely on the power of intimidation.

As I step forward, my circle of wendigos takes a step with me. The small ones scramble and the stags glide. All eyes stay on me as I march through the forest. Despite that, the stags in front of me don’t run into any trees. They avoid them as if they know they’re coming all while barely moving their slender legs.

I march away from the Sun back towards Solaris for a long while, careful not to make any sudden movements that would make these wendigos attack me. How far did I run into the forest? After a long while, I can see the city. Even though I tell my legs to keep a steady pace, my legs move faster. Suddenly all the wendigos in front of me stop as though they’ve hit an unseeable barrier. The small ones scurry off to get out of my way, but the stags continue to stand there, unfazed. Their heads turn to watch me leave like the creepiest parents watching their child leave the house. As soon as I pass by their legs I sprint as fast as I possible can towards the city. Once I’m clear of the forest completely, I stop and turn to make sure no one followed me.

They still stood there, expressionless and motionless, even though their eyes burned with hunger. Then another appeared from the trees. He’s as tall as an ogre but even skinnier than the others. I could see his spine through his stomach, and his forearms didn’t even have skin anymore. Despite that, he bore a thick coat of brown fur around his neck and shoulders, and a separate coat around his waist down to his knees.
My loose bandages become encased in a heavy layer of frost when I merely look back at him. The leaves of the trees begin to freeze from his presence. I don't dare meet his eyes. If I tried to eat my own arm from the stags, I'd probably devour myself before I looked away. Then he waves. Frozen blood surrounds his insanely long fingers as he waves at me.

I ran even faster than I thought possible towards Solaris’ gates. What was that!? I’ve never been so creeped out in my life! But I’m safe! I’m safe! I try to shake the image from my mind, but by the Lords, why did it wave!?

As I run back to the Eastern gates my mood sinks further as a familiar black plume bounces towards me. “Captain, Kar’Desh!? How did you get out of the… You’re healed!”

I stop just before I crash into him with heavy breaths. “Stickler. What are you doing out here?”

He lifts his visor to reveal his curled mustache and blue eyes. He then salutes me. “Guard duty sir!”

I wait for him to continue. After a second or two with his salute unbroken and he doesn’t say anything I finally respond. “Well, obviously. I meant why. Why are you out here and not guarding somewhere else?”

He hesitates as he answers. “Be… Because I was ordered to?”

I’m starting to get angry, but I remembered. Humans aren’t supposed to ask questions. They certainly don’t answer them. He’s probably never asked a single question in his life. Poor guy. No wonder he’s such an idiot. “Stickler, why did they order you here and not the western gate? I’m asking for an explanation on the situation.”

His eyes light up in realization before he answered. “Of course, sir! After you valiantly slayed those dastardly mages, the Karvithians held a full retreat! Victory is ours! But all was not well, as our hero lie in the mud barely clinging to life! We wrapped you in bandages and attempted to save you, but things were looking grim. I was ordered to guard over you when you up and ran! With you gone, I was ordered to lookout for you here!”

I really hope he’s the only person who talks like this. Why is he so… Cheery? What happened to ‘Cast your gaze elsewhere fiend!’ I like that version of him better. “Take me inside. I require a change of clothes.”

He re-applies his salute then motions to open the gate. As I walk in, the other knights set to guard here salute as I pass. I feel a strange sense of accomplishment as I pass through their salutes. My good mood is quickly slain once more when Stickler follows me. I messed up.
‘Take me inside’ what were you thinking!? Just ‘Open the gates’ would’ve done just fine! Now we have this moron following us!
I wasn’t thinking! But maybe we can get some good information out of him.
Like what? This bozo probably doesn’t know a thing.
I’ll find out. How to phrase this… “Where are the other demi-human captains? Are they well?”

He's silent for a moment. “O-oh! You must be addressing me!”
Yes, you absolute idiot.
“All the captains survived the pervious battle, with severe injury. Other than the saurian, they’re all in medical tents on the inner wall.”

“What of Aroura? Has she awakened?”

The axe of his halberd flashes for a moment before stopping in front of my neck. “Lecherous fiend, I beseech thee. Use the Princess’s name in a casual manner once more. I’ve not slain any lustful beasts in quite some time.”

Oh. He’s one of those people. “What of Princess Aroura?”

His axe retracts and he speaks normally. “Unfortunately no, she remains in as state of comatose.”

Curses. If she were awake, we could heal the others with ease. I suppose they’ll just have to hang on a while longer. “What are the current plans for the future?”

“To rebuild sir!”

I suppose that’s all I’m getting out of him. I’ll need one of the commanders to answer that question. See? He proved to be useful.
True, but I’m fairly sure anyone could have told us that. Like that messenger right there. A jarcobian messenger spotted me from afar and began running towards me. He stops when he comes close and salutes. He gives me praise for my valor in battle, before asking for orders. “Just let King Alister or one of the commanders of my arrival. I’ll be in the medical tents with the other captains.”
Right after I get some clothes. I’m still walking around in loose, bloody bandages. I feel naked.

He salutes again before running off. I walk awhile longer, running into more and more soldiers, human or not, who salute as I pass. I’m starting to like this feeling. The people who once chased me around the city trying to kill me, now stood at attention whenever I passed. Although I would feel better, if I could get some damn clothes! Where’s that damn quartermaster?

Finally as I approach the main gate, I find the location where the quartermasters had set up. Instead of a slums house, it seemed like they actually set up in a shop this time. Weapons and armour line the walls and an old man sits behind a large counter looking over some piece of paper. When he hears the door open he groans and begins to yell. “More!? We don’t have much mo-“
He stops in his tracks when he sees me. He desperately salutes. “Sir Kar’Desh! I-i-if you told me-“

I hold up a hand to stop him and he stops. This feels nice. I can change the actions of others with a simple wave of my hand. “Clothes. I need a full set.”

“Of course! Karak, garb the largest elf uniform you can!” Karak? Where have I heard that before? Soon a dwarf with a reasonable sized beard comes running out of a door in the back, carrying a set of clothes and boots. Finally.

I take the clothes and retreat to the back room… And the dwarf follows me. “Why are you here?”

He speaks from my waist while fiddling with his bulky hands. “To help ye sir.”

What? “I’m perfectly capable of changing into clothes. Shoo.”

He looks surprised? “Very well. It’s just that most men o’ yer standing usually relax while we dress them.”

What!? Absolutely not! “I’m not a child! Now leave, I’ll be out in a second.”
He bows, then leaves. Do people really let others change them? Grown men? In a simple sentence, I’ve lost almost all my respect for anyone with power. Not that… Not that I had any to begin with. Now I just have an easy weapon to ridicule them with.

Ah, it feels good to be wearing boots again. And pants. Oh, how I’ve missed pants. How many times must my good mood turn sour? I groan when I see Stickler standing at the door awaiting my return with a salute. I forgot he was following me. “Stickler, you’re dismissed.”

“But sir, I was ordered to protect you!”

“I know. Dismissed.”

He blinks at me a few times before finally asking. “W-where do I go?”

Poor guy. He’s never thought for himself. Time to show him the beauty of free will. “Wherever you think necessary, so long as it’s not following me.”
I made sure to add that last part. You’re not twisting this around on me.

I can see the sweat practically pour out of his helmet from the pressure of the biggest decision of his life. His eyes stare at me blankly before he stumbles over his own words. “I’ll… Leave you. Then. Okay. Here I go. Away.”
He turns around and marches stiffly out of the building.

I wait a moment to give the plank of wood a chance to leave. During that time, the old man and Karak ask to measure me. Apparently their going to put in a requisition for my new armour. Why not? It’s a perfect way to pass time.

They finish, and I take my leave. It only took a few steps out of the building to find the previous battlefield. The ashes still hang in the air as though suspended by spider webs. Just beyond where the ashes on the ground reach, stands the medical tents. I can tell because medics wearing bloody aprons wander from tent to tent. They point me to the largest tent down the road where I find the other captains.

Toross and Maheed, sit up when they see me, but Naz remains still because he probably can’t move. Bandages and splints cover the entire left side of Naz’s body except for his head, which arcs to look at me. They all carry the same shocked expression with mouths agape and eyes wide. I speak first. “You look like you just watched someone rise from the grave.”

Toross replied, “We just did. You were dead.”

Toross had bandages across his abdomen and legs, with a few covering his fingers. The first thing I noticed, however was the bandage wrapped around his eye.

Naz’s next. He speaks more softly than he usually does. “Aye. You didn’t even wear skin no more.”

Maheed simply nods in agreement. I explain that the spell Aroura and I used somehow bolstered my physical abilities to the absolute best they could be. That included regeneration. I decided to leave out that I’ve become a werewolf for now. I’ll let them know at some point, but for now they can just blame the spell. Naz adds on to the end of my explanation. “And it did wonders for yer face. You’ve got scruff!”
The slight raising of his voice sent him into a coughing fit followed by a groan and, “Right. I’ll keep quiet.”

As soon as he mentioned my face, my hand shot up to check if he was telling the truth. Sure enough, a thin layer of hair covered the bottom of my chin and jaw. It hasn’t quite spread to my face yet, but most elves don’t grow any form of beard until they’re at least 100. This must also be an effect of being a werewolf. That aside, I’m curious to hear their stories. “What happened to you three?”

Toross let out a sigh. “Just the battle with the Karvithians. We also fought the ogre you let roam free. That’s what happened to him.”
He gestured to Naz who raised his surviving arm. He survived a direct hit from an ogre? This old geezer is stronger than I thought. Toross was silent for a moment before looking me in the eyes. Is he… Displaying respect? “Jokes aside, you saved us Kar. I don’t know if you saw their army, but there was nothing we could’ve done if you hadn’t turned them all to dust. Even with their forces decimated, I know most of us would have perished without a full retreat. So. Thank you.”

This is wrong. This isn’t Toross. This is the man who looks down on everyone who passes? He and Maheed bow to me while Naz tries his best to do the same. From around the tent people, despite their injuries and wounds, spoke up to offer their thanks.

“You gave those bastards what was comin’ ‘em!”

“You avenged my brothers. Thank you Kar’Desh.”

“Our families are safe because of you!”

“I can return to my kids ‘cause ‘o you.”

This is a feeling I’m not used to. Humans, elves, everyone. Everyone was praising me and offering their most sincere thanks. All my life. All my life, others have seen me in nothing but a negative light. Humans saw me as nothing more than trash. Demi-humans saw me as a criminal unworthy of even a job. Now here I was standing in the middle of all this praise. As my infamous grin made its appearance they cheered. The smile so many have deemed as untrustworthy and malevolent. And they cheered for it.

I held up my hand to silence them. I haven’t forgotten who made this happen. I remember the hours upon hours of battle that occurred before I even joined the fight.
“You all. You all allowed this to happen. Were it not for your sacrifices, the sacrifices of the fallen! The sacrifices of those who yet draw breath! I would not have had enough time to ensure our victory. Without the time you bought, I would have failed. Without you, your families would’ve died. You achieved this victory! I just brought it to life! Without the aid of Princess Aroura, I would’ve have been useless!
So, you see! It’s not just me! It was us! We achieved this victory. So, raise your voices! This victory belongs to you!”
I punch the air. “For Aroura!”
A roar of cheers. I punch the air again and beat my chest with the other fist. “For us!”
Another roar. Both of my fists crash into my chest before punching the air one last time. “For Solaris! We! Are! Victorious!”