Hello everyone!
To repeat what the title said, (and get the full prompt, since it wouldn’t quite fit), two years ago I responded to this prompt:
[WP] You're a powerful dragon that lived next to a small kingdom. For centuries you ignored humanity and lived alone in a cave, and the humans also avoided you. As the kingdom fell to invaders, a dying soldier approaches you with the infant princess, begging you to take care of her
Well, I took that idea and decided the “invaders” weren’t of the “Across the mountain” kind and instead were the “from another world time,” and thus was born The Dragon’s Scion, a trilogy of books dealing with the the dragon-raised and empowered princess’s war against the alien invaders. Book one, Dragonflame, is out now, with more to follow in the coming months! Read the blurb below!
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Tythel thought growing up under the wings of the last dragon, Karjon the Magnificent, would be the most unusual part of her life. It was only the beginning.
Finally, she’s come of age to begin her transformation into a half dragon. But just as the ritual completes, a steel ship bursts from the clouds, killing the dragon and tearing her world asunder.
The attack leaves Tythel alone and on the run from the alien invaders. The same ones that conquered her world and killed her parents sixteen years ago. The rightful heir to the throne and the last draconic being, Tythel must use every tool at her disposal to survive and teach the aliens a lesson forged in flame.
They should have let sleeping dragons lie.
Dragonflame is an epic science-fantasy adventure.
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FAQ
Audiobook/Print Copy?
Print Copy is coming soon. For audiobook, nothing yet announced, but I’ll update if there is one!
Is this science fiction or fantasy?
Both, but in a different direction. Most science fantasy deals with science fiction tech and space wizards, and while I love me my space wizards, this goes the other way - the technology is powered by magic, the aliens use their own magic that isn’t just Sufficiently Advanced Technology, and the entire story takes place on a single fantasy world that the aliens invaded.
Length?
Dragonflame clocks in at just about 95k words, which makes it about 300 pages in print.
Elves and Dwarves?
Not exactly. There are the Sylvani and the Underfolk. Sylvani are woods-dwelling people, but they also have the ability to alter their skin appearance and texture and have mysterious origins, and the Underfolk don’t appear in book 1 but will in book 2, and they share “lives underground” with dwarves but take it in a vastly different direction.
I read this on your subreddit, what’s different?
In addition to a completely new introduction/prologue, I’ve applied many of the lessons I’ve learned writing Dragon’s Scion and other books over the last two years, and the prose is cleaner and better fleshed out, as well as some minor changes to fix early installment weirdness.
Age range?
The Dragon’s Scion deals with mature themes and has some racy jokes, but also has no real-world swears, no sex, and injuries are not described in overly-graphic detail. It’s PG-13 in movie land, and acceptable for ages 14+.
Sequels?
This book is part of a trilogy, and I'm looking to have book 2 - Ghostflame - out in mid Feb, early march.
Purge the xeno!
Not a question and not quite the right tone, but I like the enthusiasm. You can pick it up here!
Amazon US Link - UK | CA | AU | DE | MX | JP | IN | BR | FR | ES | IT | NL
I want to sample before I pick up?
Well, good news for you - Check out the first two chapters below!

Prologue

On the path between a dying city and a mountain, a dying guardsman rode with a precious bundle in his arms. This was not the first horse the guardsman had ridden since leaving the city. The others had perished on the journey. He hadn’t even purchased this horse. Having long ago discarded his tabard and armor, this guardsman wore thick furs to keep out the bitter cold. Between that and the wild look in his eyes, he looked less like a guardsman and more like a bandit. It was fitting, in a way, that the third and final horse he rode was stolen.
His name was Comber, and he had been part of the troop assigned to protect the royal family against all threats. For ten years he had stood his post, alongside the royal family’s Umbrists. Comber didn’t have the Shadow-infused powers of the Umbrist. He had armor that had been forged with steel mixed with light, and a sword that had been blessed millennia ago with a dragon’s breath.
That was in the past.
He had a vow to protect the royal family against any and all threats. He’d fought when the minions of a necromancer had snuck in through the sewers. He still had a scar on his thigh from an assassin’s crossbow bolt meant for the King. He was not a coward, and he had thought himself beyond fear.
That was also in the past.
Comber looked over his shoulder. His pursuers weren’t there. He was alone here. There was nothing but a path through the woods, a path that had been cleared by game hunters who would head this way. It took a bold man to hunt in these woods, given what guarded them. The same being that drew Comber deeper within. His last hope for salvation.
The skies darkened, and Comber risked a glance upwards. There it was. That hole in the sky. The sun had passed behind it, casting a momentary shadow across the world. It was like the eclipse Comber remembered from when he was a child, but there was still light coming from the center. Small points showing stars unlike any he had seen before.
A few tiny dots broke off from the main circle. Comber shuddered at the sight. He’d seen what those dots could do when they got lower.
The bundle in his arms stirred when he shivered again, and looked up at him with bright green eyes. Awake now, the child’s face was placid for just a moment, those beautiful eyes flickering about. Then hunger set in, and the child started to wail.
“Shhh, little one,” Comber whispered, stroking the side of the child’s face. “Shhh.”
Still the child cried. She was just old enough to eat mashed food. Comber grimaced and looked around again. There was no one present. “Shhh,” Comber said, pulling on the reins of the horse. He reached into his pack. He still had some berries from the last town, and got to work mashing them into a paste with a mortar and pestle. At her age, the child had just enough understanding of what that smell and sound meant, and her cries turned to excited cooing as she reached towards his hands. “Almost there, little one,” Comber said. Or at least, he started to say. Halfway through the wound in his side reminded him of why he’d abandoned his sword, and Comber hissed in pain. Even the simple motion of grinding berries was too much for him.
He set the mortar down carefully. He hadn’t been able to get a spoon in his mad flight. The child was able to suckle the paste off his finger, and that would have to be good enough. Once she’d been fed, Comber held her with one hand and pulled the other inside his coat. He ran his fingers over the hasty bandage. It was damp. He wanted to look at the injury, but didn’t dare. He knew what he’d find. Black veins sprawling outwards from under the bandage, creeping along his skin. Last night, the veins had been halfway to his chest. Soon they would reach his heart.
He’d die then. Comber didn’t need to be a Physician to know that.
The child reached up and grabbed for his nose with hands wrapped in mittens. Comber let her grab it, then pressed his forehead to hers. “Soon, you’ll be safe,” Comber whispered to her.
Then it was time to transition the child to the straps wrapped around his chest, freeing his hands, and Comber resumed his ride to the mountain.
***
The horse - Comber had never bothered giving it a name - came to a stop, and the jolt rocked Comber awake. He blinked around blearily. He’d fallen asleep in the saddle somehow. Everything felt like it had been coated in a layer of wool. Comber worked one of his hands free of the glove and pressed it against his forehead. In spite of the cold, heat radiated from the touch. “Fever,” he muttered to the child.
“Bah-bah-bah-bah,” she said, which Comber took as affirmation. He smiled down at her, then looked around again. They’d reached the mountain.
“We go no further together,” he said to the horse. Comber had never been one to speak to his mounts, aside from commands. He preferred to make noises at them, reassuring ones. But in the grip of fever, Comber felt irrationally sorry for abandoning an animal he’d only had for a day. A stolen one, at that. “You’ll be able to find your way back to town, won’t you? Or maybe you’ll be able to run free now, without the need...the need…” Comber trailed off. What had he been doing? Talking to a horse, that’s what.
They were close to the base of the mountain, but not quite there. He could see it. Perhaps he could ride the horse a little bit further? He dug his heels in. The horse let out a huff of air and shook its head, instead backing up a few paces. “Of course,” Comber said, shaking his head. “Of course. A horse. A horse of course.” He laughed a bit. It wasn’t funny, but the child joined in the laughter. He patted the side of the horse’s neck again. “You smell it, don’t you?”
The horse shook its head violently and took another step back. That was all the confirmation Comber needed. The horse would go no further. “You know,” Comber said, getting ready to dismount. “I should have known. They eat you, don’t they?”
The horse did not respond this time, for it was a horse, and all it cared about was that it didn’t need to go any further.
Comber got one foot out of the stirrup, but the world started to spin. Instead of dismounting gracefully, Comber swung drunkenly, and collapsed into the snow. He had just enough presence of mind to turn around as he fell, landing on his back to keep the child safe. Comber growled in pain as the impact lanced through his back. The shock did wonders for clearing his head. The child, jostled by the fall, poked her head up and giggled.
“That’s right,” Comber grunted. “I’m silly, aren’t I?”
The child reached up for him, grasping for him. Comber put his finger out for her to hold onto.
He’d abandoned his station, and he knew he should feel guilty about that, but…the beings that had come from that hole in the sky were beyond anything that could be fought. Arrows bounced off their gleaming carapace. Swords were deflected with swipes from their unnatural hands. He had a duty, and he could only save one person.
He’d chosen her.
Comber rose to his feet and turned the horse around. It only took a nudge to get the horse trotting away from the mountain.
It would live. The child would live. That would have to be enough.
Comber made himself walk towards the mountain. Every footstep was like lead. He spotted a trail in the snow - someone else had come this way and left. They were human, or at least walked like one. It could be an Underfolk or Sylvani. It wasn’t the invaders. That much was certain. No one could mistake their skittering legs for human footsteps.
The mountain, at least, was free of snow. Impossibly free, and impossibly warm. A fire burned in the heart of this mountain. Not the molten fire of a volcano. A living flame. A hungering flame.
Had the fever started sooner than Comber realized? He’d been so certain of this plan. He’d heard tales of the flame that lived in this mountain. The tales had made it out to be one of the ones that did not feast on the flesh of Man or the other Intelligent Races. They said it had stood alongside the forces of the Light and Shadow against dread powers in the past. They said it was not to be disturbed, but would not slay - except for those that came to attack it.
But still...could he trust it?
It was too late now. There was nowhere else he was certain would be safe for the child. Not with that locket, secured carefully in a pouch in the swaddling. Even without it...would anywhere be safe from the invaders? Would anything? They hadn’t been killing innocents. They’d killed armies, they’d slaughtered guards, but any who did not pick up blade or spear against them was spared their wrath. Yet...Comber didn’t trust them to stop there. It was possible - nay, it seemed likely - that they were just starting with those that posed a threat to them.
“Not that we did,” he said to the child, who paused in her attempts to gum his finger to look up at him. “I hope, if you remember nothing else, you remember that we tried. We tried.”
“Burrrbl,” the child said happily.
“We tried,” Comber repeated. And they had. Nicandros, the captain of the royal guard, had commanded them perfectly. However, no strategy could overcome the fact that their weapons did no harm to the invaders. That was when Comber realized the only option was saving what he could. That there would be no victory here. Still, Comber had fought, until his wound. Then...he’d been even more useless in battle.
Time became unstable. Comber kept walking up the warm mountain and its bare stones. It was a gentle slope, which was the only reason he could progress at all. Ahead, he saw his goal.
A hole, high up the mountain. One far larger than would be needed for a man to pass through, and one too smooth and round to be the result of nature. This was not a cave. It was a lair.
Comber stumbled and dropped to his knees. The child started to wail again, startled by the jostling. Comber tried to shush its cries, but he was too late. Something was stirring in the lair, dragging itself forth from the depths. Comber saw golden eyes peering out of the darkness, followed by red scales and immense, bat-like wings.
Comber had never seen a dragon in person. Only flying overhead, and even then, such sights were rare. He’d expected them to crawl across a ground, like a lizard, but this one slunk with a cat’s grace. An older cat, one that was past its prime hunting days, but still possessing enough energy to move about. The dragon flapped its wings and took to the air, circling around Comber once before landing.
“I told Lathariel I would not be disturbed,” the dragon growled, and Comber was certain he’d made a mistake. Tears started to form in his eyes, unbidden.
“Please…” Comber said, but the dragon shook its head.
“I will not fight.” The dragon looked up, seeing the hole in the sky, and its nostrils flared. For a moment, Comber could see it considering...then it shook its head again. “I will not fight,” it repeated. “Leave this threat for younger drakes. Ones that have hotter flames.”
“Please…” Comber said again, then coughed. Flecks of something black came with the cough, and Comber moved with speed he didn’t know he still had, pulling the child free of the path of whatever those were. He groaned in pain and nearly blacked out.
“You are injured,” the dragon said, leaning down. “And you are ill.”
Comber nodded.
“I can heal your injuries,” the dragon said, after considering for a moment. “But my flames will make the disease spread quicker.”
“Not...me.” Comber coughed again. “Her.”
The dragon looked at the child. “She’s uninjured,” he said.
“Care...protect.” Comber’s vision grew dark. “She...she...is.” Comber’s vision narrowed. “She is...everything....” The dragon was barely visible now. The world was barely visible. The child stirred, looking from the dragon to Comber and back again, starting to make distressed noises. She didn’t fear the dragon. That was good. But she could tell something was wrong.
“I’m sorry,” Comber said to the child. He looked back up at the dragon. His vision was barely there anymore. He’d gone so far. It felt like part of his mind had been set on fire, to hold back death, and now that he was here, that flame had gone out. “Tell her…” Comber said, and then he started to cough again. “She is…”
“What should I tell her she is?” the dragon asked, after Comber had been silent for too long. When he got no response, the dragon Karjon leaned down. The man’s heartbeat had been so faint when he’d approached, Karjon could barely hear it. Now, though? Now there was nothing.
And the child started to cry.
Karjon looked at it. He’d never dealt with human children before. He knew they needed more comfort than hatchlings. Uncertain, Karjon reached out with one claw and retracted his talon, then brushed his scales on the child’s cheek.
Quick as a viper, the child grabbed Karjon’s finger tightly, trying to seek some comfort in a world that had abandoned her.
Karjon sighed. He had not had children of his own. He hadn’t planned on doing so. But...if nothing else, he could not leave this child to starve on his mountain. He carefully bit on the swaddling, making certain to only let his fangs touch the fabric.
Once these invaders had been dealt with, Karjon would take the child to the nearest humans. They would know how to handle her. He’d keep her safe until then. It shouldn’t be long. There had been many threats over his nine hundred years of life. They’d always been defeated.
There was no reason to believe this would be any different.

Chapter 1

“I have lived for centuries,” Karjon growled. “I dueled the Necromancer Gix and his army of undead. I was on the Council of Twelve, battling the Lichborne. When the mad Lumcaster sought to blind the world, I doused him in my flames. How is it that nothing has vexed me as much as you, little one?”
Tythel looked up at the dragon with eyes wide in feigned innocence. Sixteen years had passed since the mountain and the snow. She didn’t remember it, of course. Just as she did not remember what her name had been before coming here. Tythel was a dragon’s name, not a human name. For all Karjon’s bluster, she was not worried. In sixteen years, Karjon had never raised a claw in anger. “Father, have you considered that it is just because you love me so dearly?”
Karjon huffed and shook his head. “That cannot be it. I think it must be because I did not know how vexing your unique subspecies of humans can be.”
“Subspecies?” Tythel asked.
“Yes. Those strange beings humans call ‘adolescents.’ Or perhaps it is just a trait unique to daughters.”
Tythel beamed at him. The expression only came through with her eyes. In her books, humans would use their mouths to do things like smile and frown. Tythel understood, in theory, what those were, but the expressions didn’t come to her naturally. From what Karjon had said, she’d smiled and frowned at first...but with time, those had stopped. Now, she blinked rapidly to show her excitement. “Which would only matter because you love me. Therefore, I am still correct. And, since I am correct, I see no reason I should not be allowed to go.”
Karjon sighed heavily. “Tythel…”
“You said I could,” Tythel reminded him, trying her best not to sound sullen.
“I told you that, yes,” Karjon said. “I said you could go when it was safe.”
“I want to see other humans,” Tythel said. “Why can’t I go?”
Karjon sighed again, a sound that filled the entire cave that was his lair and their home. “When, exactly, did ‘because I said so’ become insufficient?”
“When I stopped being a child,” Tythel said. “You said when I was sixteen, I could go and see other humans.”
“I said that you could go into the village when you were sixteen, Tythel. I did not say you could do so the very next day.” Making that promise, back when she was nine, had been a mistake. He’d done it to get her to cease her incessant questions. He didn’t think humans of that age could remember things for so long.
“You’re splitting scales and you know it.” She folded her arms across her chest and glowered at him.
Karjon, who weighed in at just over six tons and had battled some of the greatest foes the world had ever seen, broke the staring contest first. Tythel tried not to blink when she realized that meant she was getting through to him. For all his fury and might, Karjon had always struggled to deny her anything. Still, he was not caving like he usually did. “Tythel, there are reasons for the choices I make. They are for your safety.”
“You always hide behind that, father. Are you planning on keeping me here the rest of my life? What are you hiding me from?”
“There are those out there that would see you dead. Is that not enough explanation?”
She glowered at him again. “You know I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me. But if you want me to leave it alone, you’ll need to give me more than that.” Her expression softened. “Please, father.”
Karjon settled down onto the pile of coins that made his seat. Tythel took the cue and walked over to her own, smaller pile. She didn’t have a hoard of her own. Not yet. But she would one day, although she was less than eager for that day. Dragons did not share a hoard. She’d have to leave that day, never to live here again.
“Perhaps…” Karjon started to say, then held up a claw to forestall her before she got too excited. “It is time you know of the dangers beyond this lair. Why I keep you hidden here. And tomorrow…” he studied her critically for a moment, then nodded. “You are old enough.”
“To go visit?” Tythel asked hopefully.
“Not yet,” Karjon said, shaking his head. “But tomorrow, I think you are ready for the one thing I know you want more than to leave.”
Tythel sat up straighter, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You mean...you’ll finish the adoption?”
Karjon nodded, and Tythel leapt up to run over and wrap her arms around her father’s neck. “Thank you thank you thank you!” There were tears forming in her eyes, a human reaction she hadn’t shed with age, but these were tears of joy and not sadness.
“It’s past time,” Karjon said. “I just worried about how your body would react to the transformation.”
“I know,” Tythel said, although deep in her heart, she’d worried that he wouldn’t do it. That she wasn’t good enough. She’d never told Karjon that. If it wasn’t true, it would have broken his heart. If it was true...she couldn’t have handled that. Now, though, she was practically vibrating with anticipation.
Karjon put one of his claws around her, in his version of a hug. From what he’d said, dragons did not engage in touch the way humans did, but one of his books had told him a lack of touch and affection could kill human infants. Deep down, Tythel suspected he had grown to like it himself. “Now. Will you listen, and will you wait?”
Tythel nodded firmly.
“Then do so,” Karjon said, and Tythel settled back onto her coins. “Sixteen years ago, just days before you were brought to me...the skies let loose monsters.”
“Monsters?” Tythel asked.
Karjon nodded. “I do not know if they have a name. I know what Lathariel told me they were being called ‘Those From Above.’ They had weapons that sucked in light and spewed forth their own unnatural energy. Unlight, she called it.”
“And you fought them?” Tythel asked, excitedly.
Karjon shook his head, and in his eyes Tythel could see sorrow she’d never imagined from her father. “I am old,” Karjon said. “I thought they could be defeated without me. Even when I was told dragonflame was all that would harm them...I still thought they could be defeated. There were other dragons. By the time I realized...it was too late. Those From Above had secured power over humanity. They rule down there now. As far as I know, they only fear dragonflame.”
Tythel held up a hand and focused. A ball of flame formed between her fingers. “They fear this?” she asked. Dragonflame was similar to normal fire, but more vibrant. The transition from white to yellow to orange to red that happened in a normal flame was marked by clearer lines. Hers was weak. Not close to the true power of a dragon. She could barely call upon it, and couldn’t even touch the greater fires of ghostflame or heartflame. But it was not nothing.
“Yes,” Karjon said, and there was a somber note to his voice that Tythel couldn’t ignore. “By healing you when you injured yourself...you already formed the gift. They will hunt you. For that and...for other reasons.”
“What other reasons?”
Karjon shook his head. “Not yet. There is much I have kept from you. You are old enough now, but...before that there’s something you need to understand.” He put one claw carefully on her knee. “Tythel...tomorrow, after the Ascension, the number of dragons in the world will go from one to two.”
Tythel stared at her father for a long moment, processing his words. She’d never met another dragon, but the idea there had been other dragons out there...she’d just assumed it. Realizing they’d been hunted down, there was only one thing to do.
She hugged Karjon again, and her father hugged her back. They sat there for a moment, before both of them could steady themselves enough to speak. “Tythel,” Karjon said. “I…have kept something else from you.”
“It’s so much,” Tythel whispered.
Karjon cocked his head. “Do you need time before the rest?”
Tythel considered for a moment, then shook her head. “A scholar’s first duty is to acquire all information before passing judgement,” Tythel said, repeating one of her father’s lessons back to him.
Karjon gave her a slow blink of amusement. “You listen too well sometimes. Very well. Your locket.”
Tythel’s hands went up to the chain around her neck. She’d worn it as long as she could remember. It was the one piece of her own hoard she had. “You said it was my parents.”
Karjon nodded. “That locket is the other reason you will be hunted. It is the locket of the royal family.”
There was a moment of silence as Tythel stared at her father. “The…the royal family. But they…I mean…that’s…” Tythel sputtered off into silence. She couldn’t say it. “I’m…”
Karjon nodded, the motion oddly gentle. “You are the heir to the throne of your family. The throne of the kingdom of Dretayne. You are the next queen of this realm. And for that, you will be hunted as one of the barriers to the rule of Those from Above.”
Tythel took a deep, ragged breath, then nodded slowly. She couldn’t think about it right now. She could barely understand it. So she fell back on the lessons of her childhood. A scholar's first duty. “Tell me everything.”
***
Tythel did not sleep well that night. She tried to, doing every meditation technique Karjon had taught her over the years, but she spent the entire night tossing and turning. The bed she slept on was one Karjon had gotten as a trophy from the Underfolk, those strange underground folk that were in Karjon’s stories, and it had been perfect for her when she was a child. But for the last two years, she’d been forced to scrunch up on it, leading to the impression the Underfolk were likely quite small.
In truth, Tythel was taller than most humans. Sixteen years of eating a diet of meat cooked in dragonflame and lifting and moving gold on a regular basis had left her with a build that was less princess and more warrior, but since the only humans she’d seen had been in her imagination, she’d had no idea how imposing a figure she could cut when she wasn’t comparing herself to a dragon.
She’d never complained to Karjon about the small bed. Other things, sure, but never that – or any of the other things he’d provided to her over the years. Tythel had known how lucky she’d been to have a dragon for a father. Karjon’s stories were full of tales of the legendary heroes of the past, Calcon the Brave and Rilan the Just and Brigith the Nobel and all the rest of them. All of them had started their lives as humble folk that had heeded the Call, which meant their lives had been the humdrum work of farmers and blacksmiths and other folk, and the stories all made that life out to be terribly dull.
She’d always imagined Karjon had rescued her from that sort of suffering.
Now she knew differently. She would have been a princess, daughter to a king and queen, living a life of luxury and wealth and, if the legends were any indication, would have either ended up spoiled rotten or kidnapped by someone to later be rescued. Other than that her life would have been one of formality and circumstance until she was married off to secure an alliance or to whoever had been strong enough to save her, regardless of their other qualities.
Tythel decided that, small bed aside, she still felt lucky to have been raised by Karjon. That feeling was quickly followed by shame at even considering an alternative.
She got out of bed and pulled her blankets and pillows to the floor, arranging them in a pile like the gold Karjon slept on. It wasn’t as comfortable as the bed, but it did allow her to stretch out, and that was preferable to being cramped into the bed at the moment.
The problem was, it wasn’t the bed keeping her up tonight. It was her mind.
Tythel had been on top of the mountain a few times every year, under Karjon’s careful eye. He had explained that if she didn’t get to see the sky every now and then, she’d probably go mad. The village had always fascinated her, and her entire life she’d wanted to go there, just for a day, to explore and celebrate. She wanted to see horses and soldiers and blacksmiths and maybe even a lumcaster if she was really lucky. Karjon had taught her some magic, the barest flicker of dragonflame, but it was not magic meant for humans.
Of course, that would change tomorrow. Well, her being human – she didn’t know if she’d gain any proficiency with her meager powers in the process. She’d have Karjon’s power running through her veins, becoming half dragon and half human. For most of her life, it had been the one thing she’d wanted more than going to the village.
The village. She turned over again.
From the mountain, it had been hard to make out details. She’d filled in those details in her head with ones stolen from her stories – thatched roofs covering star-crossed lovers, barns harboring hard working folk with wisdom gained from years of honest toil, scholars in cramped quarters trying to unravel the mysteries of the universe, chimneys smoking with fires that were roasting chickens or beef. Never in her life had she imagined the people out there were being subjected to tyrants that had more power than she could imagine. Never, not once, had she imagined that she was their ruler by a mere quirk of birth.
That thought got her turning again. Karjon’s stories had talked about something called “noblesse oblige,” the responsibilities that the nobility had to their people. Protect them, help them, guide them, and care for them. If she was a noble – a royal – didn’t the same thing apply to her?
Stop it, Tythel. Stop it.
But the thought wouldn’t go away. If she stayed here with Karjon, she was failing in her responsibility. The sixteen years leading up to this had not been her fault; she hadn’t known she had duties. After a moment of reflection, she decided they weren’t Karjon’s fault either. They were the fault of the mysterious Those from Above. Now that she knew, however…well, Karjon had always taught her that inaction was still a choice, the choice to do nothing.
Tomorrow, then, after the Ritual. She’d leave, no matter what. And if Karjon tried to stop her…well, then she’d have to do it alone.
And that thought, more than any other, caused Tythel to burrow as deeply as she could into the blankets before sleep finally claimed her.
---
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Winter clean out. Everything is free and only for pick up

Unleashed pt. 52

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Alexa was sitting cross legged before Sassie, with Aiov lying casually on the German Shepherd’s back. She had a metal bowl in her lap with chunks of fresh meat for Aiov and cooked meat for her large canine protector. It had been a difficult time as the dog had missed Aaron more and more, to the point that she had begun to refuse food. Aiov's enthusiasm, however, seemed to help slightly in countering that refusal, and Alexa had found that feeding them together at least got some food into the lonely Earth ambassador.
She scratched at the dog’s head as Aiov happily chomped on another scrap of meat. “Look at that! You won’t be outdone by a leokit now, will you?” She placed a cube of seared meat before Sassie’s nose. She sniffed it twice before eating. “You’re going to be so spoiled by the time we get him back. We’ll both get in trouble.”
Aiov snuggled into the thick black and tan fur, using her paw to guide the next morsel into her mouth. Sassie managed a few more pieces before turning her head away with a grunt. Satisfied with what she had achieved Alexa gave a few more scraps to Aiov before placing the bowl into the recycler. The loudspeakers throughout the Rinoxian vessel blared a loud message announcing they had now crossed into Hive space and that their readiness was being moved to level three.
Her door chimed. Opening it, she found Allistan in his new Terran Wolves uniform. “You need to come quickly, the Porkchop Express has arrived.”
As she grabbed Aaron's old leather jacket, Sassie immediately rose to follow which caused Aiov to roll to the floor. "You come," she spoke to the dog, then turned to the distinctly unhappy leokit who had just lost her warm pillow. "You stay, sorry.”
They walked briskly through the corridors of the Rinoxian warship towards a secure meeting room which had two Terran Wolves outside the door. Their black uniforms and red collars were easily identifiable and they gave sharp salutes as Alexa approached. “I told you not to salute.”
The two guards lowered their hands sheepishly as the doors opened. Sassie immediately surged past Alexa to happily greet the returning crew members. She moved from Ranjaz to Jaym, receiving many scratches and hugs. Even Eruwenn and Cygna received a quick examination, but she soon stopped when no sign of Aaron could be found. The German Shepherd forlornly returned to Alexa's side as the Awakened took a seat at the meeting table. “Is the room secure?”
Cygna, now in a smart black uniform with white collar, stood. “We have taken additional precautions due to the sensitive information we will be discussing.”
Tilting her head, Alexa took in the Fae’Dan’s new clothing. “You’re one of us now?”
Eruwenn gave a slight chuckle. Aside from Alexa, she was the only one not in uniform. “She lost a game of dalcho, or two.”
“Seven.” Ranjaz said with a wicked grin. “Don’t worry, she’s actually been a fairly competent assistant. Aside from her gambling issues, obviously.”
Her head drooping to look at her feet, Cygna replied, “I swear by Tulseria’s right hand, I will get you back for this!”
The Kittran’s grin grew more predatory. “Wanna bet?”
There was a long table by the wall where Embar was fixing himself a drink, He turned, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I approve of your recruiting techniques.”
The Kittran shrugged. “She’s worth it – even broke the code on this.” He tossed the recovered device onto the table as Embar returned and took his seat opposite him. “And, you’re going to want a stronger drink, General.”
Curiosity piqued, Allistan took his seat, preparing his notepad and pen. “What did you find?”
Ranjaz was about to speak when Eruwenn held up her hand. “I think we should let General Embar read this first. He can take a moment before we all continue.”
Raising an eyebrow, Embar sat down in a nearby chair and connected the device to a non-networked datapad. “Why me?” He began scrolling through the files, tapping on icons and delving deeper. His breathing suddenly stopped, his face contorting. Disbelief morphed into anger, and as his body tensed, anger turned to white-hot rage. He placed the datapad down on the table before him and stood, walking back towards the drinks table. He lowered his head, his body radiating anger as his muscles clenched and unclenched, then raised his fist into the air and slammed it into the table. Bottles, glasses and everything else it had held went crashing to the ground as it buckled under force of his blow. “We’re going to kill every last one of those Sentinel bastards!”
No longer smiling, Ranjaz stood. “You’re Tulseria damned right we are.”
Jaym was sitting silently, but she pulled a rag from her pocket and dabbed at her tears. After they had fled from the casino she had tried to help crack the encryption on the stolen device. Part of her wished they never had, as its contents had disturbed her so much. Now that they had finally caught up with Alexa, Embar and the others who had been on the Rinoxian homeworld, she empathised deeply with the pain this information was bringing. “It’s so awful, I’m so sorry Embar.”
Eruwenn patted the young Arkellian on the shoulder to comfort her as she looked at the Rinoxian. “Please believe me, General Warbringer. The council knew nothing of this.”
Alexa picked up the datapad, using her nanites to more quickly access the information. She grit her teeth, biting back her anger, then passed it quickly to Allistan. “You need to read this. Then we need to plan our next move.” She looked at the back of the unmoving Rinoxian. “Embar?”
Embar slowly turned around, his jaw set, determination in his eyes. “We keep this quiet. We’re on an active mission and need everyone focused on the job at hand.”
Allistan went to click his pen as he read, but with a gasp the pen fell from his fingers. “We can’t keep quiet, the galaxy needs to see this.”
The Rinoxian nodded. “They will. When the time is right.”

It had been two cycles and the incursion fleet had advanced deep into Hive space. Over half of the force accompanying them were the Rinoxians under their new Galactic Federation commanders. There were over a dozen Galactic Federation ships along with six Gowe destroyers, and a dozen ships from other races including the Niham and Kah’Ree. Admiral Pelar, on board the Blazing Dawn, commanded four Ashi ships including the Righteous Fury.
The smallest craft by far was the Porkchop Express, a speck amongst titans. Its white painted hull, chrome bull bars and bright cartoon logo were a stark contrast to the military ships it accompanied. Sassie was more comfortable now that she was in familiar territory, and slept on a pile of Aaron’s clothes in his quarters.
Allistan and Alexa were sitting opposite Jar’Bek in his small office. The Ashi looked exhausted as he finally put down his datapad. “I’m sorry to have kept you.”
Allistan fidgeted in his seat. “Not at all, was that your mother again?”
Stiffening slightly at the use of the word mother the lawyer forced himself to relax again. “Admiral Pelar has informed us that they have been repeatedly scanned by the Gowe. She’s taking no action, as we’re supposed to be allies, but wanted you to be aware.” Alexa nodded and he continued. “When we arrive at the next system the commanders of each ship have been called to the Hooves of Destiny. Vice-Admiral Koo Ji has requested an in person meeting, with all senior officers.”
There were several pen clicks. “That seems unusual.”
Jar’Bek gave a knowing nod. “Extremely. To remove every ship’s command, behind enemy lines? It makes no sense.”
Alexa pushed her hair back from her face. “The Rinoxians agreed to it?”
The Ashi nodded. “Most of their command have been replaced. Anyway, they outnumber – and outgun – the other ships. Why would they be concerned?”
Allistan’s pen clicked. “They probably just put it down to Gal. Fed. protocols, or fear.”
Jar’Bek nodded. “They’ve had us stopping in random systems to scan. No doubt it’s to delay us, but perhaps also to lower the Rinoxian’s guard?”
Leaning back in her chair, the Awakened considered the options. “Maybe there's another fleet waiting to ambush us? Or following us?”
Allistan twirled his pen in his fingers. “No, no. All eyes are on the border since Aaron’s capture. It must be something else.”
Moving on to her next idea, Alexa asked, “Sabotage?”
The Ashi gave a chuckle. “That is Admiral Pelar’s conclusion. The Gal. Fed. officers have been on board the other ships, and the possibility exists that there are Sentinels working amongst them. They are all in command positions, and will all be leaving. It’s a logical conclusion.”
Allistan’s pen halted its spinning. “The Ashi ships, they can’t have been sabotaged, right?”
The lawyer nodded. “True, but, it wouldn’t matter. Their ships are old and have seen too much action. Those Gowe ships alone are more than they could handle.”
The Fae’Dan sighed and shook his head at the situation they were facing. “We should have brought more ships. The new ones.”
Alexa, staring at the ceiling, spoke softly. “No, we don’t need to show our hand just yet. But send word to Chae’Sol, make sure he has the coordinates.”
Jar’Bek nodded and made a note on his datapad. “What about the others?”
The Awakened closed her eyes. It was times like this she missed her human and his habit of taking charge. “Tell Embar to warn his contacts among the Rinoxians. The others… I have no idea, I just want to sleep.”
Allistan, a stickler for accuracy, replied, “I didn’t think Awakened slept?”
She sat up and gave a half-hearted smile. In an unusual moment of vulnerability, she replied, “I was told you can do anything in a dream. For those moments, we would all be together again.”
Allistan struggled to come up with a response to that, and the Ashi, having noticed this, stepped in to fill the gap in conversation. “We’ll find him. I can’t lose the most profitable client in the galaxy now, can I?”
Now past the moment of awkwardness, the Fae’Dan also answered. “I’m sure he’s fine. In fact, he’s probably already on his way back to us.”
Alexa gave Allistan a withering look. “You think he single-handedly defeated the Hive, stole a ship and managed to figure out how to fly it back here?”
The former Inspector paused to consider it. “No. It will most likely be something even more preposterous. Perhaps he married their Queen?”
The ridiculousness of the idea brought a chuckle to the Awakened. “Maybe. Hopefully nothing that drastic; he’d probably just turn their society upside down with some ridiculous scheme.”
Jar’Bek also smiled. “A little civil unrest, perhaps a few riots? No doubt with merchandise.”
Finally breaking into a broad grin, Alexa replied, “I think we all might be over-estimating him a little.”

Aaron stood in the trade area of Toivoa station with a contingent of Gardener Royal Guards behind him, Tsy’Lo by his side, and a very angry mob in front of him. Several well-dressed local leaders were dragged from the crowd to stand before him; Mycena, Tricinic, Procyon and a dozen other refugee races were crammed into the triple height area of the station.
One of the leaders staggered towards Aaron. “You! You caused this!”
Aaron, feigning as much innocence as possible, pointed to his chest. “Me?”
One of the Mycena he had met during his time on the station came forward. “We’ve all seen the videos! They kept us in the dark about what is going on out there! The Galactic Federation are coming! Our leaders lied to us!”
The accusatory leader, a Procyon with greying fur, pointed at Aaron. “Your... Your propaganda, has driven them mad! Your lies! They’re destroying the station!”
The human smiled and maintained his innocent expression. “My propaganda?” Several in the crowd held up datapads; Aaron’s smiling face was on every one. “Oh... that propaganda.”
Tsy’Lo tugged on his sleeve. “What did you do?!”
Aaron crouched down slightly. “Remember when I accidentally picked up the kids datapad and you returned it?”
“Yes…” The Tricinic flushed orange as realisation struck. “It wasn’t the child’s datapad!”
Aaron straightened up. “Yeah, thanks for helping bring down society.” He laughed as Tsy’Lo became a very opaque green hue. “Don’t worry, I’ve got an idea.”
The greying Procyon shook his fist at the human. “You better! They should throw you in a cage for the rest of your life for this. Hundreds of celes of peace, destroyed!”
Aaron looked down at the angry alien. “Your peace, not theirs.” He gestured back towards the Gardeners, and walked towards them without waiting for a reply. He raised his hands high, motioning for the unruly mob to settle down. “Alright, alright. Settle down, munchkins. So the wizard’s a liar? Welcome to reality. The Gardeners have been fighting and dying to keep you safe from the flying monkeys, while you all hide in your Emerald City and get on with your lives. That shit ends now. You’re crying out for change? Then welcome to the revolution, baby! We’re opening up the borders, we’re rejoining the rest of the galaxy! No more hiding!”
The crowd was already worked up, and cheering came easily despite the large lack of understanding. The human nodded — he was enjoying this far too much — and then gestured again for quiet. He spoke quietly at first, adding excitement to his voice as it built in power. “So prepare for a chance of a lifetime! Be prepared for sensational news!”
The Procyon official’s mouth opened and closed silently before he managed to shake his mind free of the initial shock of the human’s words. “No! Stop! What are you even saying?”
Aaron didn’t care about the official. He put the palm of his hand on their face, which easily dwarfed it in size, and gently pushed them slowly backwards. He then leapt up onto a crate; his showmanship on camera was nothing to his on-stage presence. “A shining new era is tiptoeing nearer, and where do you feature? Just listen to teacher! You’ve stagnated here for long enough. Lied to and kept in the dark, well, no more!”
The crowd was his, he knew it. The official knew it. Tsy’Lo knew it and was a nervous shade of blue. Aaron clambered from the crate to the roof of a stall, standing high above the crowd. The cheers followed every rambling sentence and, drunk on power, Aaron was loving it. “Spread the word to every planet, every station, every colony and every ship. Change is not coming, it’s here and it is now!”
The crowd roared again, and the desperate official turned to Tsy’Lo. “What in the nine moons is he talking about?”
“I’ll tell you what I’m talking about.” Aaron snapped. He stood looking out over the crowd. “I am the Ambassador of a world called Earth. I have taken ownership of a small star system that is being colonised as we speak. These colonies are a coalition of races, from within the Federation, as well as without. We rule ourselves, but have treaties and agreements with the Federation itself, as well as various individual races within it.”
Several questions were called out from the crowd, but one voice was louder than the others. “How does that help us?”
With a smile, the human walked back and forth across the roof of the stall as he spoke. “Good question my friend.” He pointed vaguely at where the voice had come from. “I do not have contact with my homeworld at this time. To ensure that all of whatever Earth has become would be included we put in place clauses for future territories, dominions, settlements etc, etc…” The crowd was quiet now, trying to follow the human’s explanation. Looking out at the blank faces Aaron realised he needed to get to the point. “Congratulations, you’re now a protectorate of Earth!”

He was met with utter silence.

Suddenly, there were several angry yells from the crowd, some claiming this was a joke while others were simply confused. The official was the one who dared clamber to the crate below Aaron in order to yell up to him. “Are you insane?”
Aaron’s smile made Tsy’Lo shudder, as it was the same one he had given as he had explained his idea to the Gardener Queen. The human stepped forward to stand at the front of the stall roof. “I declared war on the Gardeners. The war lasted seven Earth minutes, and was quickly resolved when the Queen surrendered to me in person.”
Silence fell once again, and Aaron found himself half-yearning for the sound of crickets to emphasize the moment.
The crowd erupted once more, outrage at the ridiculous claims the strange alien was spewing forth. Tsy’Lo released a deafeningly loud harmonic whistle which was followed by another momentary quiet. They paled as the crowd's attention fell on them. “You need to listen, all of you. He is speaking the truth, sort of. He held the Queen and the Gardeners council hostage with a bomb.” Small grey particles filled the Tricinic at the memory of being used as a weapon. The crowd began to grow rowdy at this news, causing Tsy’Lo to let off another sonic blast. “It is all a human trick; once we are part of his alliance we fall under the treaties he already has in place.”
The crowd looked back up to the human. “Like I said, congratulations. You just walked in through the backdoor of a peace treaty with the Galactic Federation, and over a dozen separate treaties with other races.”
The crowd were now arguing amongst themselves. The official - who Aaron was now mentally calling Gobshite - once again challenged him. “At what cost, though? What do you get out of this?”
The smile of mischief once more graced the human’s lips and Tsy’Lo considered pulling him down from his stage. They had been on their way to the border when news of the riots on Toivoa reached them. Aaron’s presence had been demanded and he had happily accepted. The human looked almost as gleeful as that moment of acceptance when he spoke again. “Me? I get to go home. I get friends with big sticks. I get to trade openly with you, and believe me, I have a lot of crap to sell you.” He chuckled. “You get to be part of the galaxy again. You get to travel and trade. Our rules are simple and fair; everyone is equal under the law. You have exactly the same rights as everyone else who joined us. And the cost?” He paused for effect, making sure they were all paying attention. “You stand on your own two feet.” He glanced around, noting the sheer diversity of the crowd. “Or one foot... or four... Or whatever it is you’re balancing on.”
The crowd was a buzz of conversation, and Gobshite once again chimed in. “You think they’ll let us back without a fight? We can expose them! Those bastards tried to exterminate us!”
The crowd jeered along with the old Procyon. Aaron held up his hands. “Woah, woah. Only some of them. That’s the thing, there are a lot more members now. So here’s the plan: shut up. If you don’t say anything, they sure as shit aren’t going to out themselves, are they? While everyone is staring at the former Hive terror that they all feared, you guys just start working and trading, nice and quiet.”
A few murmurs of agreement came from the crowd. Gobshite, however, was more than a murmur. “You want us to forget our ancestors suffering?”
A little irritated, Aaron was more harsh than he intended. “You’ve wallowed in it long enough. Look at you, hiding for generations, keeping your communications to a minimum to avoid detection. Is this all some master plan as you build an army to seek revenge? Fuck no!” He saw the shame on their faces. “You’re happy to leave this status quo to future generations? You want to remember the suffering of your ancestors, fine, build a fucking statue. But don’t hold back your children to do it.”
The crowd were growing louder again as they discussed his words. “Look!” the human yelled. “I’m not saying you forget, or forgive. I’m saying you keep your mouths shut. We won’t announce your presence to the Federation. Instead, I want those of you looking to start something new to come join the new colonies. No big fanfares, just get on with it. In a place filled with different races, you’ll just be another stranger.”
He saw the crowd looking at each other, and knew was a lot to take in all at once. “We gather evidence, build trust. Get yourselves established, forge friendships and alliances, and become accepted as part of the new colonies. Let those in the know think their past crimes are forgotten. And when we are ready, we burn down their false history and anyone who tries to defend it!”
The crowd cheered once more, and Aaron smiled triumphantly down at Tsy'Lo as he leapt casually from the roof. As he landed, many hands patted his back and many questions were yelled, but it all ceased as one of the Gardeners stepped forward. It was Eridor, as there was no mistaking the red cape he wore. "We need to leave, the Federation have entered our space.”
Next

My favorite films from every year (2020-1895)

(2020) I’m Thinking of Ending Things
Charlie Kaufman seems unrelentingly obsessed with tearing apart and exposing the male psyche. It’s something I love about his films but it also can be depressing how much I relate to them.
Runners- up: Possessor Uncut, Nocturne, Invisible Man, The Rental, Relic, Palm Springs, Shirley, Becky
(2019) The Lighthouse
The story in this film is shrouded in mystery but the clues and tools needed to decipher it do exist and with a rewatch, finding them felt so rewarding. It’s the kind of movie that I want to make my friends watch, simply so I have someone to discuss it with. It’s one of the best horror films I’ve ever seen.
Runners-up: Little Monsters, Furie, I Am Mother, Glass, Crawl, Ma, Godzilla: King of Monsters, Us, Color Out of Space, Ready or Not, Midsommar, Zombieland: Double Tap, The Head Hunter, Parasite, Villains, Swallow, Nimic, The Head Hunter, I Trapped the Devil, Pet Sematary, Guns Akimbo, Harpoon, Annabelle Comes Home, Vivarium, It Chapter 2, Zombieland: Double Tap, The Color out of Space, Joker, Come to Daddy, The Lodge, Home with a View of the Monster, Ready or Not, The Platform, I See You, The Vast of Night, John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum
(2018) The House That Jack Built
In my mind, this is Lars Von Trier’s masterpiece and Matt Dillon’s best performance to date. It’s hands down the most fun, engaging, darkly humorous, disturbing, bleak and creative film I’ve seen this year.
Runners-up: Annihilation, Apostle, The Bad Seed, Summer of 84, Mandy, Upgrade, Calibre, Hereditary, A Quiet Place, Bird Box, Lords of Chaos, Head Count, The Witch in the Window, Dragged Across Concrete, Braid, Climax, Incident in a Ghostland, Hold the Dark, The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then The Bigfoot, The Strangers: Pray at Night, Suspiria, Halloween, Monster Party, Bloodline, Gwen, Freaks, Overlord, Monster Party, Pledge, High Life, Possum, Wildling, The Nightingale
(2017) Mother!
Mother! is an incredibly conscientious statement on the nature of humanity, steeped in religious allegory. The last 30 min or so makes up for any weariness over the pacing. It’s one of the most intense, impressive sequences I’ve seen in a horror film in the last decade. The absolute perfect icing on the cake for what is such a masterful dip into surrealism.
Runners-up: Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil, The Endless, You Were Never Really Here, The Ritual, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Creep 2, Brawl in Cell Block 99, It, It Comes at Night, Get Out, Tigers are Not Afraid, Jungle, Cold Skin, The Crecent, Pyewacket, A Ghost Story, The Bar, Ghost Stories, My Friend Dahmer, One Cut of the Dead, Marrowbone
(2016) The Wailing
The photography direction and cinematography are astounding. I could pause the movie at any given moment and marvel at an iconic photograph. This film had me guessing up until the very last moments. It’s exactly what I crave, an unapologetically evil entry into horror cinema.
Runners-up: Better Watch Out, Boys in the Trees, We are the Flesh, ‘Sweet, Sweet Lonely Girl’, Here Alone, The Girl with all the Gifts, Raw, Nocturnal Animals, A Dark Song, The Void, Split, Train to Busan, Arrival, The Eyes of My Mother, Blair Witch, The Good Neighbor, Don’t Breathe, Phantasm: Ravager, Swiss Army Man, Before I Wake, The Shallows, In the Deep, Are We Not Cats, Sam was Here, White Girl, The Lighthouse
(2015) The Witch
I really think it focused on expressing the idea of evil being a completely separate entity from god and that the characters in the film can do fuck-all about it. The incredible struggle that every single character is going through in this film is palpable in literally every shot. It’s astounding how well Robert Eggers was able to get this exposition across with such little dialogue.
Runners-up: Tale of Tales, The Gift, The Devil’s Candy, I Am a Hero, The Lure, Evolution, Hell House LLC, Landmine Goes Click, Green Room, The Visit, The Final Girls, Southbound, Baskin, Remember, Room, Jurassic World, Tag, The Invitation
(2014) Alléluia
It’s a gritty tale of heartbreak, loneliness, jealousy, greed and obsession. It’s just fucking real; the kills feel impulsive and impactful. It’s also shot in this dirty format where both killer’s (the woman’s more so) physical appearances degrade as the film progresses.
Runners-up: It Follows, Zombeavers, Interior, Backcountry, Dig Two Graves, The Taking of Deborah Logan, A Girl Who Walks Home Alone at Night, What We Do in the Shadows, The Voices, The Town that Dreaded Sundown, Wolfcop, Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead, Creep, The Babadook, Tusk, Girl House, Tusk, Honeymoon, As Above So Below, Life After Beth, The One I Love, John Wick, Spring, The Treatment, Clown, The Incident, The Guest
(2013) The Conjuring
One of the most established and refined supernatural horror films ever made. James Wan’s style is immortalized here and would go on to be imitated by dozens of other horror filmmakers.
Runners-up: Insidious: Chapter 2, Pee Mak, The Sacrament, Escape from Tomorrow, Oculus, We Are What We Are, Coherence, Evil Dead, Afflicted, Horns, I Spit on Your Grave 2, V/H/S 2, Bad Milo, Jug Face, Under the Skin, Blue Ruin, Evil Dead
(2012) Byzantium
This film really transfixed me on vampires until I was at a point where instead of fear and dread, I was really in-tune with that intense, multi-life spanning loneliness, rather than the violence. It’s really a tale of romance, even just the way it feels. There’s moving Beethoven piano music flooding a sort of neo-gothic atmosphere which, by the way, intertwined perfectly with the flashbacks throughout the film. It’s inevitable that a vampire movie would be grounded in classic elements of the sub-genre but Byzantium manages to push in its own direction, inspiring a surprising amount of mystery.
Runners-up: The Battery, Antiviral, Cosmopolis, The Collection, Resolution, The Conspiracy, Chained, The Bay, Vamps, V/H/S, Sinister
(2011) Sleep Tight
Luis Tosar puts on a sickeningly realistic performance that boasts up an already incredible script. His character is this unstable complex mess of depression, sadism and sociopathy. He’s the world’s worst nightmare, hiding in plain sight.
Runners-up: Scream 4, Take Shelter, Guilty of Romance, The Innkeepers, The Woman, Detention, The Rite, You’re Next, Kill List, Apollo 18, The Cabin in the Woods, Source Code, The Strange Thing About the Johnsons, Contagion, We Need to Talk About Kevin
(2010) I Saw the Devil
Jee-Woon Kim makes actions feel loud and crisp. Both the villain and our protagonist are powerful in their own right. It’s both intensified but also remarkably realistic. I get that that’s a paradox of sorts but I just mean, it’s just not what audiences are used to seeing. There’s not too much left to the imagination with this one in terms of the violent sequences.
Runners-up: Insidious, Trust, Trollhunter, Dream Home, Helldriver, The Crazies, Tucker and Dale vs Evil, I Spit on Your Grave, Inception, Buried, Skeletons
(2009) Dogtooth
Yorgos Lanthimos’s filmmaking style is darkly calculated with deadpan cinematography and tip-toeing dialogue thats minimalism only adds to its strangeness. I haven’t been made this uncomfortable by a film since Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom. Dogtooth offers a difficult, albeit alluring glimpse into a world of isolationism, abuse, violence and psychopathy.
Runners-up: The Forbidden Door, [REC] 2, The Collector, The Fourth Kind, Orphan, Drag Me to Hell, The House of the Devil, Antichrist, Zombieland, Jennifer’s Body, Cropsey, The Loved Ones
(2008) Let the Right One In
The way this film deals with both sexuality and immortality is genius. It’s a rotten dichotomy between pedophilia and loneliness that ends up being darker than the actual violence.
Runners-up: Cloverfield, The Strangers, Quarantine, Four Nights with Anna, Pontypool, Vinyan, Surveillance, Eden Lake, Martyrs, Lake Mungo, The Ruins, Lake Mungo
(2007) 1408
1408 captures the magic of The Twilight Zone and blends it expertly into the most horrific supernatural waterboarding experience.
Runners-up: 28 Weeks Later, The Orphanage, Hansel and Gretel, Funny Games, Resident Evil: Extinction, The Girl Next Door, Trick r’ Treat, Paranormal Activity, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, Stuck, The Poughkeepsie Tapes, An American Crime, Teeth, Death Sentence, Timecrimes, Zodiac
(2006) Inland Empire
Inland Empire is the most ambitious conceptual interpretation of Hollywood and film making that I have ever or could ever conceive. It challenged my mind for three consecutive hours and reinvented the way I interpret his films.
Runners-up: Fido, Sheitan, Severance, Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, Hatchet, Slither, Final Destination 3, Bug, Population 436, Children of Men
(2005) The Descent
The impassioned and realistic performances in this movie by every single female actress involved cannot be overstated. It’s absolutely terrifying and top-to-bottom, one of the most effective horror movies ever made.
Runners-up: John Carpenter’s Cigarette Burns, Noriko’s Dinner Table, The Call of Cthulhu, A History of Violence, Lady Vengeance, Funky Forest: The First Contact, Haze, The Skeleton Key, The Decent, Doom, Hostel, Strange Circus, Red Eye, Constantine
(2004) Shaun of the Dead
This movie is just wonderful. I find it hilarious on a personal level but also so intelligently funny that it could go down as one of the greatest horror-comedies of all time. Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost have an undeniable chemistry and just simply make an entire new breed of film-style. It’s dry, whimsical, crass, darkly funny and wholesomely endearing.
Runners-up: The Phantom of the Opera, Shutter, Dumplings, Three Extremes, Calvaire, Saw, Dead Man’s Shoes, The Village, The Butterfly Effect, Saw, Hellboy
(2003) Oldboy
Everything about this film is exceptional. It looks fantastic, the acting is fantastic and Chan-wook Park wrote an incredible story. I think when you try and sell a revenge movie to someone, it can imply some degree of formulaic filmmaking but Park’s films are anything but. This one had me guessing up until the very last minute.
Runners-up: Dead End, Open Water, Willard, Identity, High Tension, Dark Water, A Tale of Two Sisters, Gozu, House of 1000 Corpses, Jeepers Creepers 2, Scary Movie 3, Final Destination 2, Alexandra’s Project
(2002) The Ring
The Ring is a terrifying film that relies on an unstoppable force. It utilizes one of the few shining examples of a successful grey-scale and manages to convey a horrifying sense of bleakness and helplessness. It’s better than the original.
Runners-up: 28 Days Later, Blade 2, May, Dog Soldiers, Resident Evil, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, In My Skin, The Eye, Irreversible
(2001) Pulse
How a horror movie can make ghosts infiltrating our world through the internet not stupid is beyond me but everything here just worked. For 2001, the visual effects for the ghosts are perfect and don’t steal the spotlight away from the emotionally driven horror that makes this project successful. I’ve yet to be more moved by a horror film, this one absolutely broke me.
Runners-up: The Devil’s Backbone, Frailty, Suicide Club, Visitor Q, Ichi the Killer, Trouble Every Day, Dagon, Jeepers Creepers, The Others
(2000) American Psycho
You won’t see a much better performance by Christian Bale; he’s top notch, however, the success is owed to everyone involved. It’s an excellent script, written from excellent source material and expertly directed by Mary Harron. This film is pure genius and it’s well worth noting that even if you’re not viewing the film under a super-critical lens, it’s highly entertaining.
Runners-up: Fail Safe, Ginger Snaps, Final Destination, The Gift
(1999) The Sixth Sense
I can’t praise this movie enough. It’s dark, depressing and only offers the humblest of reprieve in the end; much like what many of the films characters go through. This is M. Night’s masterpiece.
Runners-up: Arlington Road, The Blair Witch Project, Nang Nak, Idle Hands, Audition, eXistenZ, Sleepy Hallow, The Ninth Gate, Deep Blue Sea
(1998) Ringu
This is a benchmark in atmospheric horror and a film that spawned an entire generation of psionic horror films. It’s dark and heartbreaking.
Runners-up: Blade, Bride of Chucky, Phantasm IV: Oblivion, The Faculty, Disturbing Behavior, Pi
(1997) Lost Highway
This film is about how powerful the human mind is and how we cope with intense guilt, fear and regret. Specifically, in this instance, the compartmentalization of murder. Although that all seems inherently negative, especially in the context of the movie, it’s really just about confronting your issues; even if that means accepting your punishment.
Runners-up: The Devil’s Advocate, Funny Games, Alien: Resurrection, The Cure, Cube, Event Horizon, The Lost World: Jurassic Park, Men in Black
(1996) Scream
Scream just may be the best meta-horror film ever made. It’s so special to me and was probably the film that sparked my fascination with horror. I watched it the year after it came out, at 8-years old, alone in my dark basement. I shut it off after the opening scene with Drew Barrymore and never saw the rest until years later. However, if I had just stuck with it, it actually evolves into this darkly funny, poignant statement on slasher films.
Runners-up: Ebola Syndrome, Naked Blood: Magyaku, From Dusk Till Dawn, Crash, The Craft
(1995) The Addiction
This was Abel Ferrara’s extremely personal vampire film that tackled addiction and through the gritty melodramatic landscape of New York, he really sheds his skin. It’s raw and rightfully claims the best film of the year.
Runners-up: The Eternal Evil of Asia, Habit, The Day of the Beast, Tales from the Crypt: Demon Knight
(1994) In the Mouth of Madness
Simply one of the best Lovecraftian films ever made. The special effects in this movie range from miniature set pieces shot up close to a full size 30-man operated partially animatronic wall of creatures. Some people will say that these 80’s style techniques hurt the production value but those people don’t know shit about shit.
Runners-up: Interview with The Vampire: The Vampire Chronicles, Cemetery Man, Phantasm III: Lord of the Dead, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, The Mask
(1993) Jurassic Park
Jurassic Park is everything. This movie is the perfect blend of horror, action, adventure and sci-fi. It was the “fuck yeah, dinosaurs!” of many or our childhoods. As an adult though, re-watching it for the 50th time, it feels like so much more.
Runners-up: The Eight Immortals Restaurant: The Untold Story, Necronomicon: Book of the Dead, Fire in the Sky, Return of the Living Dead 3
(1992) Man Bites Dog
One of the strangest aspects to some horror movies is their ability to make light of ultra-violent crimes like rape and murder. Man Bites Dog will actually have you laughing out loud until you realize you’re in a kitchen watching three men rape a woman while she pleads for mercy. Whatever way you choose to digest this movie, I can guarantee you’ve never seen anything quite like it before.
Runners-up: Ghostwatch, Army of Darkness
(1991) The Silence of the Lambs
While the film does stand out in blatant, suspenseful, scary moments; it’s the conversations between Clarice and Dr. Lecter that make it so memorable. It just adds this timeless psychological horror element that helps establish it as a classic in my eyes.
Runners-up: Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky, The Addams Family, Sometimes They Come Back, Naked Lunch, Highway to Hell
(1990) Der Todeskin: The Death King
While often wavering between the blunt, literal message and depressive expressionism, Der Todesking manages to feel all too real. It’s one of the best arthouse-style horror films I’ve seen to date.
Runners up: It, Misery, Leatherface: Texas Chainsaw Massacre III, Jacob’s Ladder, Gremlins 2: The New Batch, Tales from the Darkside: The Movie, The Exorcist 3
(1989) Santa Sangre
Easily the most impressive aspect of this film is the ventriloquism inspired acting. It starts out as a goofy aspect of the plot, something that doesn’t really necessarily grab you. However, by the end of the film, it’s molded into this beautiful, creepy display of possession.
Runners-up: The ‘Burbs, Ghostbusters 2, The Woman in Black, Bride of the Re-Animator, Society, Intruder, The Cook, The Thief, his Wife & Her Lover, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
(1988) The Vanishing
The Vanishing is an absolutely raw tale of abduction, almost like a Norman Rockwell imagining of an American’s European vacation turned horror story. It takes this incredibly simplistic but underlying dynamic approach to horror that’s as refreshing as it is captivating.
Runners-up: Child’s Play, Dead Ringers, Men Behind the Sun, Pumpkinhead, Pin, Phantasm II, Brain Damage, The Following, Halloween 4: The Return, Beetlejuice, Akira, Hellbound: Hellraiser 2, Vampire’s Kiss
(1987) Evil Dead 2
Just from a technical perspective, everything is so fucking impressive. It’s all basically hand-done, practical effects and the camera work is just remarkable. The film leans more towards the humor side of the series but it does so both intentionally and gracefully. I adore this movie, it’s on par with the original
Runners-up: Hellraiser, Creepshow 2, Near Dark, A Nightmare on Elm Street: Dream Warriors, The Witches of Eastwick, Anguish, Prince of Darkness, Angel Heart, Fatal Attraction, The Believers, The Lost Boys
(1986) In a Glass Cage
It’s an incredible movie about consequence and revenge that’s told in a manor that I think bewildered reviewers for years. It blurs the lines between right and wrong, willing to sacrifice lives in the process of condemning an extraordinary evil. The specific breed of revenge, as portrayed in this film, isn’t noble but rather an inevitable product of abuse. If you think you can stomach it, I can’t recommend this enough.
Runners-up: Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, The Fly, The Hitcher, Blue Velvet, Night of the Creeps, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, From Beyond, Little Shop of Horrors, Aliens
(1985) Come and See
Come and See is a raw and sobering look at WW2 from the Soviet perspective. It’s one of the least “Hollywood” war movies I’ve ever seen. Some of the scenes towards the end were truly gut wrenching and will most likely stick with me for quite some time.
Runners-up: Lifeforce, Silver Bullet, Fright Night, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, The Return of the Living Dead, Re-Animator, Day of the Dead
(1984) A Nightmare on Elm Street
This felt like a first glimpse into Wes Craven’s mind and the last glimpse into my well-rested sleep. It’s creative, vile and fucking scary.
Runners-up: Poison for the Fairies, Countdown to Looking Glass, Threads, Gremlins, The Terminator, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter
(1983) Videodrome
Videodrome is a fucking trip and it’s an incredible feat of psychological horror while also being a visually horrific movie.
Runners-up: Something Wicked This Way Comes, Angst, The Day After, Special Bulletin, The Boxer’s Omen, Eyes of Fire, Christine, The Dead Zone, Cujo
(1982) The Thing
It’s one of the best sci-fi body-horror films ever made and the fact that no one is steeping up to say otherwise should be a clue.
Runner-up: Creepshow, Poltergeist, Cat People
(1981) The Evil Dead
I’ve wracked my brain trying to think of a good description. This is one of the most incredible horror films ever made. It manipulated both the body and time itself to establish such a pure horror environment.
Runners-up: The Howling, Halloween II, Dark Night of the Scarecrow, Ms. 45, An American Werewolf in London, The House by the Cemetery, Raiders of the Lost Ark
(1980) The Shining
Absolute perfection. This is such an enthralling psychological horror film.
Runners-up: Inferno, Hex, Altered States, Cannibal Holocaust, City of the Living Dead, The Ninth Configuration
(1979) Alien
A classic and possibly the best creature film ever produced. There hasn’t ever been a better blend of sci-fi and horror.
Runners-up: Salem’s Lot, The Driller Killer, The Brood, Zombie, Apocalypse Now
(1978) Invasion of the Body Snatchers
I love this fucking movie with all my heart, it’s seriously one of the best alien invasion movies I’ve ever seen. It’s drenched in dread from start to finish, a film that never gave you a safe moment to take a breath.
Runners-up: Beauty and the Beast, The Shout, Magic, Halloween, Dawn of the Dead, Slave to the Cannibal God
(1977) Suspiria
Its psychedelic, pastel, fun-house atmosphere, coupled with a fantastic score lend a benchmark aesthetic for Italian horror and well, horror in general. Many have tried to emulate it and most have failed.
Runners-up: The Hills Have Eyes, Shock Waves
(1976) God Told Me To
Cohen takes all this religious subtlety and blows it all up for the finale into a very Cronenberg-style conclusion. Despite all the veils seemingly being lifted at once, I still found myself unsure of what to think during some of those pivotal scenes. After the credits rolled, I was damn sure I was into it.
Runners-up: The Tenant, Carrie
(1975) Jaws
This movie actually made people scared to go in the water. It’s almost difficult to think of a more impactful film off the top of my head.
Runners-up: Deep Red, Shivers, Satanico Pandemonium
(1974) Vampyres
It’s dark, moody, sexy and offers one of the most unique vampire film experiences to date. It’s a film that makes Dennis’ idea from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia about a full-penetration, Dolph Lundgren crime fighting movie seem almost plausible. It plays with the dynamics of Vampire lore in general, while somehow getting to the true root of this sub-genre.
Runner-up: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue
(1973) The Exorcist
William Friedkin takes the time to let the characters accept their reality in a realistic manner. It’s a technique that creates a very human aspect to them and watching the mother and the priest break down actually becomes as horrific as anything else here.
Runners-up: The Legend of Hell House, The Wicker Man, Don’t Look Now, Soylent Green, The Crazies
(1972) Images
Robert Altman’s Images is an exhibition into how to fully encapsulate an idea within the confines of a visually and sonically refined film. You could throw away the plot entirely and I’d still tell you this is one of the best looking films, period.
Runners-up: Your Vice is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key, Morgiana, What Have You Done to Solange?, Don’t Torture a Duckling, Raw Meat, Tales from the Crypt, The Last House on the Left, Horror Express
(1971) The Devils
It’s tough to tell how accurate of a representation The Devils is of what actually occurred in Loudun, France back then but either way, it seems eye-opening. It’s a very powerful film, I really enjoyed this one.
Runners-up: THX 1138, The Abominable Dr. Phibes, Short Night of Glass Dolls, The Cat o’ Nine Tails, Blade the Ripper, Malpertuis, A Bay of Blood
(1970) Valerie and Her Week of Wonders
I would absolutely consider this a coming-of-age film and they balanced the horror and whimsical elements perfectly. For that reason alone, I don’t believe I’ve seen any other film quite like this. With a tantalizing soundtrack and colorful visuals, I really felt transported into this strange new world.
Runner-up: The House That Screamed
(1969) Horrors of Malformed Men
I’ve never been so confused only to have everything wrap up so emotionally that the vision and artistic direction became so clear. I don’t want to ruin anything so I’ll just leave the teaser as, this film might be among the strangest Japanese horror films I’ve seen to date.
Runners-up: Cremator, One on Top of the Other
(1968) Hour of the Wolf
Hour of the Wolf is a top to bottom, beautifully produced psychological, surrealist nightmare. The first half of the film is fueled by pure intrigue through the perplexity of events that unfold. Like most surrealist films, a portion of your attention is devoted to figuring out what’s real and what isn’t. To speak to that aspect specifically, not a whole lot is left to the imagination, at least through my interpretation. I definitely feel like this project inspired filmmakers like David Lynch to push some of those boundaries, eliminating the extra explanation and leaving more up to the viewers interpretations.
Runners-up: Kuroneko, Rosemary’s Baby, Night of the Living Dead, Even the Wind is Afraid
(1967) Viy
This is the first and possibly only soviet horror film. For the resources they had, everything looks amazing. It’s an incredibly fluid experience that takes zero time before jumping straight into the scares.
Runners-up: Wait Until Dark, ’Spider Baby or, The Maddest Story Ever Told’, Our Mother’s House, Violated Angels
(1966) Persona
It’s instantly one of my favorite arthouse-style films of all time. All of the flashing images, cuts and effects are almost unbelievably purposeful. Just 5-minutes of this films would spell pretentiousness but as a whole, it’s a masterpiece.
Runners-up: Seconds, ‘Kill Baby, Kill’, Cul-De-Sac
(1965) Repulsion
Sonically the movie thrives in the negative. When our lead actress is being raped Polanski purposely takes her voice away, really emulating the fear and helplessness in a genuinely scary way. The delusions she’s having are clearly transparent but intentionally so, though they tend to bleed into reality towards the end in a satisfying way. Couple this with a claustrophobic atmosphere and we’re given a seriously trimmed up psychological horror thriller that was way ahead of its time.
Runners-up: Fists in the Pocket, Planet of the Vampires
(1964) Kwaidan
This is an anthology but rather than dissect each segment I’d rather just speak on the film as a whole. All four stories really encapsulate a sort of morbid beauty and tend to compliment one another over the course of the three-hour long movie.
Runners-up: Castle of Blood, Blood and Black Lace, The Tomb of Ligeia, The Masque of the Red Death, Lady in a Cage, The Last Man on Earth
(1963) The Haunting
The Haunting, despite being such an influence in the horror genre in general, seems to be an incredible lesson in use of space. Architecture, ceilings and walls are constantly the focus. Wise creates a ton of claustrophobic tension and before the story even begins to evolve, you get the sense that these individuals are indeed, trapped inside this house.
Runners-up: Black Sabbath, The Birds, The Haunted Palace, Twice-Told Tales
(1962) What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?
This film was fantastic. Beyond the poignant statement it makes, it’s just such a solid, performance driven thriller. I’m very surprised I’ve never heard of it before today.
Runner-up: Carnival of Souls
(1961) The Innocents
This is simply one of the most beautifully shot horror films from the early 60’s. Every frame is truly a picture and for that alone, I’d call this a must watch for horror fans.
Runners-up: Mother Joan of the Angels, Pit and the Pendulum
(1960) Psycho
There’s a scene where Norman Bates first shows real nervousness. The actor playing him, Anthony Perkins, puts on probably the most believable performance here that I’ve ever seen. It really gave me chills. If you haven’t seen this before, it just might be the first and greatest execution of a theatrical misdirection.
Runners-up: Peeping Tom, The Brides of Dracula, Village of the Damned, Jigoku, Black Sunday, Eyes Without a Face, The Virgin Spring
(1959) A Bucket of Blood
This is such an awesome Corman film. It’s pure entertainment and just an excellent horror-comedy. Dick Miller is a great lead.
(1958) Horror of Dracula
Both Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee are fantastic in their roles and it’s strange to even be saying this is one of the best Dracula films at this point, after having seen so many.
Runners-up: The Fly
(1957) Curse of the Demon
Certain aspects of the ending sequences don’t exactly age gracefully but for the most part, Curse of the Demon remains compelling and creepy.
(1956) The Bad Seed
Outstanding performances from both mothers and really just an excellent film all around. It’s probably the earliest film to tackle childhood evil in a realistic sense, without all the usual campiness.
Runner-up: Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Forbidden Planet
(1955) The Night of the Hunter
The film just looks fantastic, I mean seriously, it doesn’t get much better for the era. The depth for a black and white film is incredible, especially in the backdrops. It makes for some really iconic looking scenes and those moments are probably what I’ll hold onto as time passes. The underwater shot of the car was fucking stunning.
(1954) Rear Window
This film just feels like Hitchcock flexing. He knows how to make the perfect theatrical experience in technicolor with all the hottest stars.
Runner-up: Godzilla
(1953) House of Wax
House of Wax, much like other Price films, is meant to be fun. It’s definitely dark and horror focused but it’s also colorful and accessible. Phyllis Kirk is also a very capable female lead.
(1952) The White Reindeer
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Finnish horror film before but this was great. It’s super mellow but builds into this atmospheric horror-fantasy.
(1951) Strangers on a Train
This is such a fantastic crime thriller and I absolutely loved the character Bruno Antony. It added such a creepy element seeing this seemingly desperate man reveal himself to be something entirely different.
(1950) Sunset Boulevard
It totally brings a smile to my face to say this this is, yet again, another film that had to inspire David Lynch. It’s certainly film-noir but the melodrama itself is so creepily in-tune with the struggles of Hollywood actors and actresses. It’s almost as if acquiring fame is accepting a deal with the devil.
(1949) The Queen of Spades
Dickinson managed to capture the both literally figuratively cold vibe of imperialistic Russia and I think that’s one of the main components that makes it stand out to me. It certainly is an exercise in greed but within the setting you almost adopt an understanding for our main character, however devious he may be.
(1948) Rope
Despite a very straightforward plot, I can’t help but thinking there’s a ton going on in this movie, a lot of which was way ahead of its time. It’s not just about two men attempting to get away with murder but it also introduced this widely controversial notion of lesser lives being expendable to the more powerful sector of society.
(1947) Black Narcissus
This film is absolutely breathtaking. For anyone who’s ever considered technicolor to look fake, blown-out and oversaturated, this is a shining example of it done right. It’s an entirely created set with gorgeous artwork. This film so elegantly says what I believe religious detractors have a hard time putting into words. There’s a huge portion of the movie that’s confronting sexual temptation and it’s an aspect that’s woven into every single frame of this film. I mean that literally.
(1946) Bedlam
This film is hugely influential and may just be the first film to explore the horrors of being accused of insanity. It also happens to be pretty diverse between horror, cruelty, meta-humor and wholesomeness.
(1945) Dead of Night
This is a clear inspiration for The Twilight Zone and just the structure alone felt way ahead of its time. It’s a nightmarish journey adapting many horror traits but really building a foundation around surrealism. There’s just so much that stands out as influential to modern horror that I’m a bit surprised to have never heard of this film before. It’s one of the earliest examples of a film that initially inspired skepticism from strange acting, performances that ended up being integral to the heart of the film.
(1944) The Uninvited
The character relationships are comically whimsical and coupled with the upbeat score, I didn’t get really any “scary” vibe from it. It’s an aspect I didn’t hate though, it’s really what this film is about, the characters.
(1943) Shadow of a Doubt
Joseph Cotten’s character really stands out as the focal point of the film. Hitchcock manages to build suspense throughout the film my highlighting his presence in subtle powerful ways. Whether it be through camera framing or the subversive violent tone of his dialogue, you really feel tension whenever the man is on screen. It’s techniques like these that made some of his later films great as well, such as with Strangers on a Train.
Runner-up: The Seventh Victim
(1942) Cat People
Simone Simon is a fantastic lead and even with the short runtime, I came to understand her character rather quickly. Tons of anxiety as well as repressed sexuality sort of hone her into this timid and frighted woman who brings her own fears to life.
(1941) Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
As with any Jekyll and Hyde film, it all really hinges on the performance of the two and Spencer Tracy fucking killed this role. The first scene with him as Hyde in the bar was super creepy and also pleasantly rape-y. Is that weird to say?
Runner-up: The Wolf Man
(1940) The Invisible Man Returns
A young Vincent Price plays our perp this time and he’s excellent as always. It’s not paced exactly as intensely as the original but I enjoyed the steady decent into madness.
(1939) Son of Frankenstein
I probably should have watched the original Frankenstein first but eh, what can you do? I totally dug this though! Of course there’s that 1930’s cheesy sci-fi but the film as a whole is very entertaining and the set pieces are incredible.
(1938) They Drive by Night
This is a great fucking movie that totally embodies crime-noir. It reminds me a ton of early Hitchcock and for the 30’s, the narrative is spectacularly clean.
(1937) Song at Midnight
I wasn’t really looking forward to watching a 2-hour long remake of The Phantom of the Opera and thankfully, Song at Midnight managed to really set itself apart from the original, even more-so than many US remakes. I’d consider it more of a reimagining, a film inspired by the original. It is tedious but really, not overly so. A huge aspect of this film is character and tension building and in that regard, it really works.
(1936) The Invisible Ray
Man I love this movie. You obviously have Boris and Bela back together but it’s just such a legitimately fun sci-fi horror film. The plot is straight out of a 1950’s nuclear propaganda film which was probably the coolest aspect. With that, the effects are also fucking top-notch.
(1935) The Bride of Frankenstein
Boris Karloff is the only Monster in my mind. I would even consider this film to be family friendly as he’s the sweetest version of himself. There’s no really complex character development but The Monster is undoubtedly more self-aware which makes the entire film more engaging.
Runner-up: The Black Room
(1934) The Black Cat
When I thought of things that struck me that were worth mentioning, I actually thought of vacation-horror. Beyond all the elements of lust and innocence, I actually was struck by how much this film probably influenced destination horror films. These films excelled at taking our protagonists out of their comfort zones, before even introducing fucked up shit to the plot. It’s smart, concise and something I feel is even worth revisiting.
(1933) The Invisible Man
I’m absolutely floored by the production of this film. I went in with this preconceived expectation of the invisible man solely being portrayed wearing all the rags and shit. The effects for 1933 are very impressive.
Runner-up: King Kong
(1932) The Old Dark House
This is Karloff’s best look to date. I mean seriously, his performance is pretty muted and mostly expressed in body language but he has the same screen presence as Mickey Rourke.
Runners-up: The Mummy, Vampyr, Freaks
(1931) M
I feel like I, myself, never realized how far back people have been recognizing mental illness. I don’t mean in the specific and complex clinical sense, but more so, just in the obvious sense, certain displays that appeal to our natural, compassionate nature. Of course, in this film you do see the antithesis of that at times but really only to highlight the importance of law, reason and justice. Absolutely fantastic film and a staple in the horror genre with really the first truly dynamic killer that comes to mind.
Runners-up: Dracula, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Frankenstein
(1930) L’Age d’Or
It’s very much one of the earliest, full-length, surrealist films and with that comes the usual loose narrative that can be hard to follow. When I say hard to follow, it’s probably because it wasn’t meant to be “followed”. I digested this film as sort of an anthology of poignant criticisms by the filmmakers and Dali.
(1929) Seven Footprints of Satan
This film is fucking insane. It’s a super surrealist spiral through satanic-based situations. It’s really indescribable. The effects and cuts are excellent. I loved the restored version I watched. I don’t even know what to say. I definitely think this inspired or at least should be mentioned as a precursor to films such as Bergman’s Hour of the Wolf.
(1928) The Man Who Laughs
Some people might not know but this film was the direct inspiration for the ultra-famous DC comics villain, The Joker. It’s pretty fucking incredible how much people took to this idea of someone being disfigured in such creatively sadistic manner. I would absolutely, especially with the role of Cesare in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, consider Conrad Veidt to be a horror icon.
(1927) The Unknown
It's a really fun movie. You’ve got Lon Chaney and he’s not just a modern day novelty in this. His expressionistic performance is actually the main highlight, even more-so than Joan Crawford.
(1926) The Bat
(1925) The Phantom of the Opera
(1924) Hands of Orlac
(1923) The Hunchback of Notre Dame
(1922) Nosferatu
(1921) Destiny
(1920) The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
(1919) Eerie Tales
(1914) The Egyptian Mummy
(1913) The Student of Prague
(1912) Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
(1910) Frankenstein
(1909) The Sealed Room
(1907) Satan at Play
(1906) The 400 Tricks of the Devil
(1905) The Black Imp
(1903) The Monster
(1902) Mephistopheles’ School of Magic
(1901) Bluebeard
(1900) Faust and Marguerite
(1899) The Sign of the Cross
(1898) A Trip to the Moon
(1897) The X-Ray Fiend
(1896) The House of the Devil
(1895) The Execution of Mary, Queen of Scots

[English Football] How the greatest flowering of football talent since 1966 gave the tabloids a decade of material

The first four parts of this series covered Nottingham Forest, Notts County, Derby County/Leeds United, and Stoke City.
This episode in English Football Drama is going national. After four episodes diving into the circus that is Midlands football, we turn our attentions to England's national football team. This episode will focus on the 21st century up until about the 2010 World Cup, as the 'Golden Generation' of young English talent failed to achieve for country the glories that so many of them achieve for their club. There will be a bigger focus on off-the-pitch stories and tabloid scandals here, although obviously football is central. In the era before the general sanitisation of the English tabloid press, players on the national team were up there with the royal family for gossip reporting and red-top scandals. And scandals they provided.
Background
English football had something of a renaissance in the 1990s. It ceased to be a violence-ridden sport predominantly enjoy by white working class men and became a national game in the true sense.
After the glory of winning the World Cup for the home crowd at Wembley in 1966 against the Germans, England's footballing fortunes took a nosedive. England did not qualify for the 1974 or 1978 World Cups at a time when English clubs were dominant in Europe (all European Cups from 1977-82 were won by English sides, while Leeds would have likely won in 1975 if not for some incredibly suspect refereeing at a time when bribing the officials wasn't unheard of) and the national team stagnated. Performances picked up in the 1980s, but the most notable moment for the national side in this decade was a certain Diego Maradona cementing an increasingly bitter rivalry with the Hand of God in 1986.
Off the pitch, hooliganism, often called the 'English Disease', blighted the reputation of the game at home and abroad. The socially turbulent 1970s-80s created a violent subculture at the underbelly of the sport, arguably fuelled by media sensationalism, and earnt English football supporters a terrible reputation when they supported club or country in European football competitions. The darkest moment came at the 1985 European Cup final when 39 supporters of Italian side Juventus died in a stadium collapse caused when the crowd sought to flee rioting Liverpool supporters. While there were other factors at play, the horrific scene was too much and all English clubs were banned from European football until 1990. England's participation in the 1988 European Football Championship in West Germany was like a candle which drew in the unsavoury elements of English club support and there was widespread violence between English and German hooligans around the competition.
So, in 1990 a fairly unpleasant situation? What changed?
At home measures such as the general adoption of all-seater stadiums and corresponding ticket price increases killed off much of the old 'terrace culture' around clubs. The government had made it possible to ban convicted hooligans from attending any match and in some cases from leaving the country during a major international tournament. The issue was good optics for Margaret Thatcher and her general commitment in government to the traditional safe Tory issue of law and order.
The 1990 World Cup in Italy was the start of football's image change. England did better than usual, making it to the semi-final before what would become a highly common event. Losing penalties to Germany. Their success and the resonance of Paul Gascoigne crying on the pitch owing to his sheer pashun took football to a wider audience.
But in 1996, football came home. England hosted Euro 96 and a famous song by comedians David Baddiel and Frank Skinner epitomised the optimism of football's home nation during the festival-like competition with a sentimental nod to 'Thirty Years of Hurt' since 1966, the year that has weighed down England ever since. But above all, it showed supporting England as a thing that normal and respectable people did. The awarding of the competition to England was a major sign from world football that the 'bad old days' were over, and the competition went ahead in a positive atmosphere. There was just one small hitch, once again involving a penalty shoot out against Germany as England once again lost in that accursed format.
Things weren't perfect by the end of the decade and some of the old problems persisted. A 1995 friendly against Ireland in Dublin was abandoned owing to a riot by a group of English hooligans affiliated to various far-right organisations, and there was trouble at both the 1998 World Cup and Euro 00. But it was a far cry from previous decades, and there was a new optimism in the air about the English national team.
The Golden Generation
At the turn of the century, England had a huge amount of young and promising talent who would surely end the pain and bring the World Cup home once again. Players who would go onto become legends for their clubs such as right midfielder David Beckham, centre forward Michael Owen, central midfielder Steven Gerrard, and centre half Rio Ferdinand had all come of age. Manchester United's 1999 Champions League win was the first one for an English side since Liverpool in 1984, and it signalled a return to Europe's top competitions for English sides.
What better to signal a new era than by absolutely stuffing the main rivals? After the 1966 World Cup final, penalty agony in 1990 and 1996 and various other historical events, Germany became the team English fans wanted to beat the most. The tabloids revelled in the rivalry with their diplomatic headlines and terrace classics such as 'Ten German Bombers' and 'Two World Wars and One World Cup' remained commonplace. For their part, German fans tend to regard the Netherlands as their primary football rival.
And stuff them they did. In a World Cup qualifier in Munich in 2001, Germany suffered their first ever home loss in a World Cup qualifier as England beat them 5-1. This was a massive vindication of England's young side and the new manager Sven Goran Erikkson, who had received some scepticism as England's first foreign manager. German fans consoled themselves with the Dutch failure to qualify for the 2002 World Cup, but it marked a new era for England.
The side that humbled Germany included the core of the 'Golden Generation' with Gary Neville, Ashley Cole, Steven Gerrard, Rio Ferdinand, Sol Campbell, David Beckham, Paul Scholes, Emile Heskey, Michael Owen, and Jamie Carragher all appearing.
The CEO of the Football Association, Adam Crozier, publicly described this cohort as the 'Golden Generation' who would go on to do for England what many of them were already doing for their clubs.
Japan 2002
England qualified for the 2002 World Cup in Japan in true fashion, with a David Beckham free kick past Greece putting England through. David Beckham had rapidly become the poster boy for the Golden Generation owing to his skill with free kicks and his glamorous appearance and personal life, including being married to the famous pop star Victoria Beckham, known as 'Posh Spice' in the Spice Girls.
Quick stop off for the first affair to be dragged through the tabloids on the way to Japan. In the spring of 2002, it turned out that Anglo-Swedish TV presenter Ulrika Jonsson had been having an affair with Sven. The News of the World (Britain's premier sleaze rag/newspaper, known as the News of the Screws in satirical magazine Private Eye or if you're my great-granddad, as the Whore's Gazette) absolutely loved a bit of sleaze. So much, in fact, they gave Ulrika a column for the next four years so she could launch the odd diatribe at Sven and his unconventional personal life.
Sven was bullish about England's chances in 2002, in a formula which would become predictable, he expected that this year would be the year.
To be fair, it started well. A group stage tie with Argentina gave England a chance to give a bloody nose to another rival. Owing to the 1982 Falklands War and Diego Maradona's 'Hand of God' in 1986, Argentina normally sits 3rd in the list of international footballing rivalries after Germany and Scotland. I remember as a fairly young child my parents explaining to me that the Argies were a 'dirty' side after the Hand of God and an acrimonious game in the 1998 World Cup and that beating them was pretty much essential. So, it was to relief all round when David Beckham scored from a penalty.
Draws with Sweden and Nigeria took England into the Round of 16, amusingly at the expense of Argentina who were 2002's shock group stage exit. England brushed Denmark aside 3-0 to set themselves up for a quarter final tie with the favourites and eventual champions, Brazil.
Was this to be England's year? Victory against Brazil would likely assure playing Germany in the final given the probability of beating Senegal or Turkey in the semi-final (so goes the England fan's logic) and we would doubtless give Jerry another pasting to make it Two World Wars and Two World Cups. The nation was abuzz. I willingly went to school early to watch it on the projector, the only time I've ever turned up a minute early of my own free will.
And Brazil won. Well, they were going to, weren't they? A good Michael Owen goal set England up for a 1-0 win and dreams of glory in Tokyo, but Messrs Ronaldo and Rivaldo put two past David Seaman to knock England out.
The circular firing squad and media postmortem was mysteriously absent. Brazil had some truly sublime talents, and surely a young side would come good and win it next time, wouldn't they?
The Road to Euro 04
A few distractions to get through before we get into the meat of England's next footballing failure. In late 2003 England played a friendly against Australia which was notable for two things. England were roundly beaten by Australia, a nation with whom England has fierce cricket and rugby rivalries but doesn't generally register in football, to echoes of condemnation. And a young Wayne Rooney became the youngest player to ever play for England, aged just 17. More on him later.
England's qualification for Euro 04 was generally uneventful, except for a shock draw to Macedonia, involving this filthy banger direct from a corner.
Rio Ferdinand managed to get an eight month ban from football by missing a drugs test. This was a blow as it removed one of Sven's two preferred centre halves from the squad. It also removed one of the main drama generators, a man who had gained notoriety in 2000, when Channel 4 aired a sex tape featuring him and fellow internationals Kieron Dyer and Frank Lampard filmed on holiday in Cyprus. Fortunately for us, his ban allowed an even more sublime drama king to take centre stage. Enter John Terry. Another new appearance was Chelsea teammate Wayne Bridge. More on them later.
Penalties, again?
Euro 04 started strong with an early goal from Frank Lampard against France. France, despite being England's rivals of choice in most fields, is not an especially strong football rivalry. The idea of France as a major footballing nation is relatively new and as far as football goes there isn't any real bad blood. Even Zinedine Zidane's injury time equaliser and winner didn't create any lasting resentment.
Comfortable wins over Switzerland and Croatia put England 2nd in the group and set them up for a draw against host nation Portugal. Of course, Portugal had their own wonderkid as the world was introduced to a certain Cristiano Ronaldo. The two sides drew 2-2 after extra time and the dreaded penalties loomed. Fear not, for dead-ball specialist David Beckham stepped up to the mark for his country.
Well.
Beckham joined Stuart 'Psycho' Pearce and Gareth Southgate in the list of players who gained notoriety for fluffing a penalty.
Sven started to come under criticism in the tabloids for his failure to deliver the goods. He came under more criticism when he, once again, couldn't keep it in his trousers, starting a proud tradition for the Golden Generation to become better known for tabloid gossip.
Young Rooney started strong as well, as it turned out that he had shagged a granny in a Liverpool brothel. Hopes of an incognito quickie with a lady of the night were dashed when a group of Everton fans (Rooney's then-club and boyhood team) found out and started chanting his name outside when he was doing the dirty.
At about this time, Ashley Cole began a relationship with the professional Geordie and pop star Cheryl Tweedy, a saga which would keep the News of the Screws engaged for some years.
Possibly the only bad thing about that sordid rag going under in 2011 is that I'm having a hell of a time finding the original news articles for this write up.
The Old Enemy Beckons
The 2006 World Cup is now on the horizon. And who is hosting it, other than Germany? What a coup it would be for the boys and England's national pride for, in a story lifted from a campy 1950s war film, our plucky boys to parachute in Berlin and win the World Cup from right under Fritz's nose?
Well, if they could get there. Northern Ireland, traditionally footballing minnows, beat England 1-0 in a qualifier. This was Sven's first defeat in a qualifier but the tabloids attacked his playing style and, being a Swede, the lack of pashun and dersiah that a redblooded Englishman would have. England did qualify with a match to spare, so surely it would be a smooth ride to Germany and for our plucky heroes to take on the Hun and win?
Like fuck it would. Sven managed to get into the tabloids again. At the time, the News of the Screws employed an undercover journalist who specialised in 'sting' stories aimed at prominent figures. Mazher Mahmood was popularly known as the 'Fake Sheikh' owing to his tendency to masquerade as an Arab oil sheikh. He approached Sven as an Arab businessman hoping to invest in English football, and Sven seemingly said told Mahmood to buy Aston Villa (a respectable Premier League side from Birmingham) as he hoped to take the Villa job after the 2006 World Cup and bring David Beckham in from Real Madrid to be his captain. The imbroglio fatally undermined Sven, who was forced to announce a resignation effective after the World Cup. Essentially working through his notice period, it isn't hard to see what impact on the squad that might have.
England turned up in Germany, and the tabloid media brought its legendary tact and diplomacy. England fans made no reference to past historic events before matches. Songs like this were condemned in the respectable press which saw them as crass chants from drunken shirtless louts, but many football fans see these chants as lighthearted banter.
On the pitch England beat Paraguay and Trinidad in the group stages before another turgid draw with Sweden, putting England through to the Round of 16 at the top of their group.
Sven began to deviate from the traditional 442 formation, using Rooney up front alone and playing a third man in central midfield, usually Michael Carrick. We'll talk a little more about the significance of 442 in a bit.
A 1-0 win over Ecuador set England up for another quarter-final tie, this time against Portugal, who had knocked them out on penalties in 2004.
Surely England wouldn't be knocked out on penalties by Portugal again would they? Curses aren't real surely?
A 0-0 snooze fest led to the inevitable. And the inevitable happened. England's players missed three penalties. This was now becoming a serious mental block, with England going out of the 1990, 1998, and 2006 World Cups on penalties as well as Euro 96 and 04.
It wasn't Sven's problem now. As agreed with the FA, he left the role thereafter. But who could replace him?
The Wally with a Brolly
After the pashunless Sven, it was time to get a proper Englishman back in charge. Enter Steve McClaren. McClaren had proper club pedigree, taking Middlesbrough to a UEFA Cup Final in 2006 after winning a League Cup in 2004.
His first media scandal came when the News of the Screws claimed Ashley Cole had taken part in a homosexual orgy. They settled out of court and retracted the stories but this was just another time in which the tabloid press pursued sensational stories about members of the England team.
McClaren gave John Terry the captaincy and dropped David Beckham from his line ups. There was a period of poor form in which England scored once in five matches, followed by when he told a press conference they could write what they wanted after a lacklustre win over Andorra because he wasn't going to say anything else. McClaren recalled David Beckham and form picked up once again. It wasn't enough though, as England lost against Russia before the final gameday of the qualification cycle for Euro 08. This meant that England had to avoid defeat against Croatia, who obligingly beat England 3-2 at Wembley while Russia took 2nd place with a win over minnows Andorra. This was the first time in 24 years that England had not qualified for a European Championship.
The Daily Mail's headline the next day became one of those legendary headlines that goes down in a country's collective pop-culture memory. The Wally with a Brolly epitomised what was then the shortest ever tenure in the England job.
Who could possibly prepare the club for the 2010 World Cup after a period sat on the sidelines of international football?
Enter Fabio
Fabio Cappello was another foreign hiring. He was widely welcomed in the English press as a notorious disciplinarian who could curb the excesses allowed under the relaxed Sven and the disastrous McClaren.
Fabio rigidly played 442 football. In England, 442 is more than a football formation, it is a way of life. 442 means standing up for traditional no-nonsense English values like work ethic, pluck, and willingness to die for the team over fancy foreigners with their poncy passing skills. This initially endeared him to the press, which demanded nothing more than the most patriotic form of football involved.
Capello saw Beckham dropped once again for his initial set of friendly matches. In goal he started to play David 'Calamity' James, who was perhaps unfairly scapegoated for being a somewhat eccentric keeper prone to errors.
In the 2010 qualification group, England did very well. They comfortably qualified, including with a win over Germany to keep the fans happy, and everyone looked forward to watching England bring it home from the first ever African World Cup.
But first, an interlude for the biggest of the tabloid shitstorms.
Viva John Terry
In January 2010 a certain individual successfully placed a 'Superinjunction' preventing details of an extra-marital affairs being published. The existence of the injunction was also not to be revealed. Another judge overruled this and the News of the Screws was free to report the information it had. Namely, John Terry had an affair with the partner of Wayne Bridge, former Chelsea teammate and current England teammate. Wayne Bridge in the end wasn't involved in the 2010 World Cup, but many were naturally shocked a captain would do something like this to a team member.
At the time there was a prominent scandal around the use of 'injunctions' by high profile people exploiting England's lax law on these issues, and John Terry was merely one of several.
In any case, the News of the Screws ended up apologising to the woman involved, in a fairly remarkable move which in hindsight was an early indication of the radical shifts in the tabloid press during the early 10s.
John Terry was stripped of the captaincy for the first time and replaced with Rio Ferdinand for the upcoming World Cup.
Germany, again?
It started so well. England was put into a relatively soft group on paper and were the clear favourites. The Sun's legendary tact once again.
Match number one of 'HMS Piss the Group' was against the USA. Again, not really a footballing nation, the expectation of an easy win was high. It started well with an early goal from Steven Gerrard before a goalkeeping error etched into my mind today. Rob Green mishandled a save, giving Clint Dempsey a goal. A frustrating 0-0 draw with Algeria indicated something was going wrong.
Were England about to be knocked out of an allegedly soft group? Fortunately a goal against Slovenia rescued it, but England finished 2nd in the group behind the USA, leading to a Round of 16 tie against Germany.
Once again, the red tops employed their legendary diplomacy
Did it go to penalties? No, but don't breathe a sigh of relief yet.
England got stuffed 4-1. Properly stuffed. The only consolation was that an obvious Frank Lampard goal was not awarded because the linesman didn't see it properly. In the days before VAR it really was that rudimentary. The reason this mattered was because England had been awarded a similarly controversial goal in the 1966 World Cup final, many Germans reassured themselves knowing that it could have gone so differently if Hurst's 2nd goal hadn't been allowed. At least they were now even on the controversial crossbar goal count.
Was this a consolation to the press?
Of course not
Once again, the red tops hounded a squad who had failed to live up to the increasingly lofty expectations.
But at least Wayne Rooney got one more romp in the tabloids out, as it turned out he had paid hush money to a high-class escort he had been 'seeing'.
Viva John Terry 2
Fabio quietly gave John Terry the captaincy back. He still had one shitstorm left in him. And it was ugly. He was accused of calling Anton Ferdinand, brother of Rio, a 'fucking black cunt' during a game between Chelsea and West London neighbours Queen's Park Rangers. After being charged by police for using racist language, Terry was once again stripped of the England captaincy, which went to Steven Gerrard.
Fabio, who had come under heavy fire after the 2010 World Cup, resigned over this. He didn't want to take the captaincy from John Terry but the FA forced his hand and he left the role in early 2012.
John Terry was actually acquitted of racially abusing Anton Ferdinand in a criminal trial, but an FA hearing found him guilty and punished him with a fairly short ban. This was controversial because of the different standards of proof. A conviction in English criminal courts needs proof 'beyond reasonable doubt', whereas the FA hearing used civil rules where guilt is based on the balance of probabilities. Terry apologised for his language, but he retained the Chelsea captaincy and never directly apologised to Anton.
Epilogue
With Fabio's departure the classic 'Golden Generation' era ended, even though players like Gerrard and Lampard still turned out for England. In the interests of time and length I shall give a summary until about 2016 before wrapping up.
Roy Hodgson managed England from 2012-6. England were eliminated in the group stage of the 2014 World Cup after losing to Uruguay and Italy and drawing to Costa Rica. Ironically Italy, the other team expected to go to the knockouts, was the other eliminated side. This was a bigger trauma than 2010, although massive changes in journalism (such as the News of the Screws closing down and far stricter regulation) meant that there was less of the constant tabloid coverage of the fallout.
2016 saw a decent showing in Euro 16, but once again the media got cocky before a tie against a theoretically weaker side only for England to get knocked out by them. Bravo Iceland.
Sam Allardyce replaced Roy Hodgson and lasted a grand total of two months before being caught telling undercover journalists how to get around various financial rules in football before criticising previous managers and some of his players.
Finally, Gareth Southgate came and has seemingly reinvented the side, making it to the semi-finals in 2018. But at least it wasn't penalties then.
Why did the Golden Generation Fail?
On paper they should have been at the top of the game. Pep Guardiola compared them to the Spanish flowering of talent which led to their 2010 World Cup win. There are a few factors here.

The team's philosophy didn't really work. There was never a coherent playing style for the national team which players would be selected around or moulded into. Rather, managers tended to make systems work around players even if they didn't gel well.
Rivalries in the squad. It probably reflects on English football well that there are several top end teams who compete for titles and European qualification, rather than the perhaps less exciting one club dominance of Germany and Italy or the duopolies of Scotland and Spain. But, Gerrard and Lampard seemed to struggle when paired and their club rivalries may have played a part. The bulk of the squad came from three clubs, Manchester United, Liverpool, and Chelsea who all won Champion's League honours at some point in the early 21st century and regularly competed for titles and domestic cups. Could they switch off the rivalries when on national duty?
Finally, the press. We have gone through the tabloid obsession with these footballers and their personal lives. We have also discussed the cycle of bullishness followed by anger which follows the inevitable defeats. Is it unreasonable for a young adult to find these pressures too much? Probably not. Above all, it is hard to escape how much better England appear to play now that the press is less hostile towards the side, that their manager is a more nurturing figure, and that the sleazy red tops have either gone the way of the dodo (News of the Screws) or been forced to fundamentally change their approach in response to heightened regulation and changing social mores.

Coronation Day [Chapter 14]

Previous | First
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Chapter 13 Art: The Flower of Alhamkara
Chapter 14: A Return (art to follow)
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A/N: I will start by saying that HJ 2021 will premier on the 21st, as I'm sure many are wondering. For those of you not on my patreon or discord who are curious about why there’s a chapter for Coronation Day today and not HEL Jumper, I spent the last part of the year gauging the desire within the community for more HJ versus spending a bit of time each month on other works. As a result of community feedback and my own personal desires, you can expect two HJ chapters each month going forward, along with a full length installment of either CD or some other OC of mine. I hope you’ll all give some of my other work a shot if you haven’t already. Happy New Year everyone, it's great to be back.
Special Thanks to Big_Papa_Dakky, Darth_Android, bloblob, AMERICUH, Ironwing, Mr_Polygon, Krystalin, Mamish, Mike, Vikairious, Sam_Berry, KillTech, LilLaussa, Daddy_Talon, Gruecifer, Gaelan_Darkwater, Konrahd_Verdammt, red-shirt, DaPorkchop, Benjamin Durbin, Siddabear, and everyone else supporting me on patreon.
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When Spot left Eina behind in the medical wing he’d expected the nerves, the shaking. He was going to kill other faunum in the name of the King and Queen. He’d proceeded to do so several times, in some cases brutally, like the animals to which they were all so closely related. What he hadn’t expected was the same sensations on the way back. The operation against the Oro had gone off almost without a hitch but the one casualty had been his partner, and he had no idea if Eina would still be waiting for him when he got back, if she would still be alive. Fortunately for his nerves, he, Idris, and his comatose partner were rocketing back towards the palace in a shuttle that, on the outside, appeared as nothing more than an ambulance. It was one of the best armed and armored ambulances in the kingdom, but nobody watching needed to know that. The remainder of the Sekhama were either still at the Oro’s base of operations securing evidence and ensuring a perimeter, or returning to the various military bases from which they deployed, using a randomly generated dispersal pattern to throw off those who might be looking at things they shouldn’t with technology they shouldn’t possess. If katana anti-air launchers were filtering down into the hands of street gangs, who was to say what else they had on hand?
“Spot,” Octavia got his attention in a low, almost fatherly voice. “I’m only going to say this once. You are a member of the Sekhama now. You will always be watched, scrutinized, and appraised for weakness or strength, just like the rest of us. Find yourself somewhere private if you need to mourn or deal with what happened tonight. Maintaining your health as a professional soldier is just as much your job as the actual killing of the Crown’s enemies. Am I clear?”
“Yes sir,” Spot managed to reply, feeling like he was forcing the words through a tightening rubber tube. With every second he was getting closer to an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, and what a third party observer would have described as an unhealthy obsession with a street whore. Idris Octavia was not that sort of observer.
“Good. There are those in the employ of the Matriarch who are skilled in the art of conversation and are as loyal to her as any of us are to the Queen or King. Or go to the heavy ordinance range. Both are fine.”
“But you said rookies aren’t normally allowed into the harem after their first mission. You don’t need to-”
“I have had this conversation with every single rookie since I assumed command of this force, Spot. The harem is not some street corner sex den where your brothers in arms get to fool around either by the grace of or for the enjoyment of the upper crust of society, though I understand well its appeal in that regard. You can get anything there from a perfectly brewed cup of tea to things unmentionable even in the corridors when you think no one is listening. Speaking to somebody about what you’ve seen and done is a far cry from getting your cock wet. You are not special,” the lion insisted gruffly, ensuring silence as the pilot radioed the cabin from the cockpit, informing them that they’d entered the palace’s direct airspace and were about to touch down atop the medical wing’s helipad. Spot had little time to reflect upon the Commander’s words as the side of the shuttle opened and he leapt out onto the tarmac, ready to assist the two medical staff who had accompanied Doc Oz in moving Tark’s gurney from the vehicle to solid ground.
“So you are the partner?” the doctor noted as he walked around to get a head on view of the shattered limb of Spot’s partner. “You removed the arm?”
“I uh, yes sir.”
“Commander Octavia, who was the field medic who saw to the injury?”
“Pteris. And if you could hold your evaluations until the sun comes up at least, Doctor?”
Oz waved him off with a feathered arm as the medical staff began wheeling the injured Sekhama to the elevator that would lead directly to the back end of the medbay, with Spot hot in tow. “I will only submit a complaint if they screwed up and cost our brave Sekhama here some amount of functionality in his new limb, Commander. Otherwise I suppose congratulations are in order?”
“You’re always a riot, Oz. Enjoy it while you can. We have a lot you’re going to have to sift through come morning and none of it is pretty,” Octavia explained, joining them in the elevator as the shuttle pilot threw them a salute and kicked his bird back into the air, bound for the palace’s vehicle storage and maintenance depot. The large, fortified structure was located well within the palace’s security perimeter, but distant enough so as not to ruin the experience of visiting dignitaries or other patrons of the crown. Spot watched it go, soaring gracefully over the palms and other greenery of the palace grounds before becoming naught but a dim light in the black night sky, faintly reminding him of the first time he’d been brought to the palace. That life seemed far away, as though something he could only remember through a looking glass. His was that of a Sekhama now, and all the grief and triumph that came along with it.
After a tense, silent ride in the elevator, broken only by the clicking of Spot’s shotgun bolt as the rookie did his best to remain calm, the doors opened and Oz went to work as bright, white lights guiding their way to an already prepared operating suite. Spot barely had a chance to look around the room before the medical professionals had passed through the sterilization bubble and began transferring Tark to the operating table. By the time he’d checked every bed visually and noted every single one of them was empty, pristine, and awaiting new patients, Oz was already determining his partner’s reactions to electronic stimuli via the protective artificial socket that had been fixed to the arm in the field. “Eina…”
Octavia inhaled a deep breath through his nose and placed a heavy paw on Spot’s shoulder. “Welcome to the other half of being a Sekhama.”
Spot did his best to control his lips and eyes, feeling the natural reactions tugging at him, willing tears to spring from his lids. “They’re dead, at least,” was all he could say, his voice parched and cracked.
“They are, Spot, by your hand. What you’re feeling right now is the bittersweet line between justice and vengeance. If you choose to cleanse your palate with some of the harem’s jasmine tea, I will meet you there.”
“Do you really give this talk to every rookie, sir?” Spot wondered as their heavy boots rang off the sterile, linoleum floor and they moved to observe the beginnings of Tark’s operation from a respectful distance. Octavia allowed himself to smile then, just a bit.
“Not all of my rookies fall in love with street whores, Spot. And before you snap at me as I know you so desperately want to… I find it reassuring that even in this line of work something so unreasonably hopeful can happen. If she is gone, be strong for that boy.”
“You have… I don’t know if I can do that,” Spot replied, clenching his fists so tightly the creaking of his gloves could be heard against the handle of his shotgun. Octavia crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.
“That’s why it wasn’t an order, Spot. You have thirty minutes. Otherwise, wait until after your next op or put in a request directly with one of the Matriarch’s staff to speak with one of her healers. It’s your choice.”
Spot lowered his head, closing his eyes as the lights from over head reflected up at him off the spotless floor. It felt a mockery in a way, light and dead. “I appreciate this, sir. I’ll be there.”
Octavia hummed approvingly. “Good, but ditch the shotgun.”
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“So, you’re the one? Hmmm, our Lady did always have an eye for quality and an unhealthy obsession with the underbelly of society. You are her diamond in the rough, I suppose. I assume you know who I am?” the matronly hyena demanded in a silken voice, walking slowly in a full circle around where Eina sat, straight backed on a plush ottoman in the middle of one of the several private chambers that made up the south wing of the glistening jewel of Alhamkara’s palace, the harem.
“You’re the Matriarch,” the cheetah replied in a weak voice. The hyena nodded, taking her chin between her fingers as she considered her from every angle.
“Oh they’ll like you, my dear. Meek and mild mannered with an alluring, voluptuous street body, with modifications to match. I know a few gentlemen and more than one lady who would pay dearly to spend a night with you if that is still to your liking. Ah ah ah now Eina, you cannot ever show fear or they will eat you alive. It is not wise to allow the clientele to believe they hold power here. That rests with you. So tell me little cat, why did you come knocking at my door the moment you were able to walk again?” Matriarch asked, sitting in a chair opposite Eina and crossing her legs one over the other. Her body was clad in a voluminous robe of the finest silks dyed a deep, earthen red and trimmed with gold. The symbol of the palace, the dawning sun, adorned the collar below her left cheek. The sight of her left Eina speechless for a moment. Her elegant dress was modest, covering her entire upper body, arms, and most of her legs when standing, but she understood how to arrange herself just so, ensuring a tantalizing glance of her thighs and calves when seated. The queen of the harem smiled at her, keeping her teeth behind her lips. “I’m flattered, my dear. Now introductions? Let’s start there.”
“I am Eina, my lady,” the cheetah replied quietly.
“And you’re quite honest. Not always a good quality but I demand absolute loyalty from those who serve me, just as is demanded of me by those I serve. Now, apart from my wonderful decor,” the Matriarch said, gesturing with a smooth sweep of her arm to the room around them. Sandstone walls, a rich dark wood bed frame, silks and pillows trimmed in gold, ornate hookah pipes and vases of rare desert flowers all set the scene where the wealthiest and most powerful might indulge themselves, and where Eina never in a million years dreamed she might be. “Why did you come to the harem, Eina?”
She stammered a reply. “I w-wish to repay her majesty, Lady Keiko. I am without s-skills, so I thought-”
“You thought that a dancer from an illicit brothel could just waltz into the harem and begin to serve as the Crown requires,” the Matriarch finished playfully, cowing Eina into silence. After a moment under her gaze, withering before her stern, mahogany eyes she looked away, feeling shame grow within her breast. “Honest and brave. Unpolished stones have no place in my collection, but I called you a diamond for a reason, your eyes not the least of them. I already know what you went through to get them and why, so we will not waste our time on such matters as your past. The kitchens would take you, Eina, as well as the other handmaidens. We could always use someone else to air out the bedding. You do not have to do this.”
Eina looked up at her again curiously, finding that the Matriarch had procured a thin, wooden pipe from somewhere on her person. The material was dark, almost black, polished to a fine sheen and inlaid with ivory. With practiced motions she packed the small bowl and lit it with a strike of her fingers, catalysing a reaction that sent a thin trail of haunting, blue smoke into the air. She puffed lightly, exhaling a vibrant, sparkling cloud of azure fumes. “I’ve only ever seen it so pure once in my life,” Eina remarked.
That comment actually elicited a reaction from the seasoned hyena as she cocked her brow ever so slightly. “Indeed? We do not serve anything else here, and we refine it ourselves.”
“I can only imagine what that would cost,” Eina replied wistfully, feeling her mouth begin to salivate as the smell reached her. “That is… utterly divine.”
“And your relationship with the substance is exceedingly complicated,” the Matriarch pointed out, removing the pipe from between her lips and allowing it to rest comfortably on one knee. “Perhaps that is the answer?”
“N-No! I would never… no,” Eina pleaded. “If I require it I was told to return to the medical wing.”
“And where is the fun in that?” the hyena chuckled, finally relenting. “Eina, this is but a taste of the sort of games that are played in my world. I admire your devotion to our Lady, but I need to know you can survive this place. If a client comes to anticipate your services, I cannot simply inform them that you are no longer available.”
Eina shook her head briefly, partially to clear the sinful smell of azure smoke from her nostrils and partially to contemplate the idea of not just being the piece of meat that was on duty that day of the week, to have clients in the true sense of the word, to be a service in demand. “Do all of your employees engage in my old line of work?” she finally asked.
“The dancing, or the sex in exchange for money?” Matriarch replied without a hint of sympathy.
“Sex in exchange for the ability to feed myself and my children,” Eina shot back after a deep breath. Her interviewer nodded her head curtly.
“I would like to make two things clear to you, Eina. The first is that your children will be cared for regardless of what happens after this conversation. They are innocent, and will be treated as such. The second is that sex is only one of the wide array of services I, my staff, and possibly you might offer to our clientele. And I personally hold both sides of sexual transactions to exacting standards of professionalism and pleasure. This is not the world you came from, Eina.”
“Then I will have no problem surviving it,” she replied, her human-like eyes narrowing in determination. She did not care how devious or brutal the palace’s guests were. There were rules within those mighty sandstone walls. At the Oasis, where money and muscle did the talking, there were none.
“I admire your determination, but that remains to be seen.”
“Then if you have the time, Matriarch, I’d like to tell you about the birth of my first child, Keiko.”
-----
“Elandri, they have you on night shift again?” Octavia demanded, approaching the vaulted double doors of wrought metal that led to the palace harem. The entire surface was lovingly detailed, depicting scenes both carnal and beautiful, and flanked by two of the harem’s ceremonial guards. They sported the same sort of armor worn by Idris for official functions, overwrought with expressive metalwork on large pauldrons and intricate embroidery in gold on deep navy tunics and skirts. Bangles of gold and shining metallic greaves adorned their lower legs, with each wielding a spear and a knife at their belts. They were there both to enforce and to entice, perhaps the only truly forbidden fruit within the harem and a reminder that impropriety would not be tolerated under the gaze of the Crown. The commander of the Sekhama stepped forward and embraced Elandri, the lioness returning the hug briefly before stepping back and running a hand through the close cropped, crimson ‘mane’ that ran down the back of her head and neck. Such female manes were rare but not unheard of in Alhamkara. Among the bloodline of the Octavias, it was practically expected.
“I requested it, uncle. And I’m well past the age you need to be intervening on my behalf around the palace, especially in matters as mundane as guard shifts,” she said in a soft tone, her voice nevertheless carrying a fair distance through the curved, stone hallways that made up the central elements of the palace.
“I would never!” Octavia protested, wilting quickly under Elandri’s keen gaze before smiling genuinely for the first time in more than a day. “How are things in there?”
“Plenty of room for your boys if that’s what you’re asking,” she reported. “The esteemed Lord Torando tends to mope about more often than not, but he keeps his dour thoughts to himself and pays well. I assume the operation was a success?”
“You know I can’t speak about such things openly. You’ll see tomorrow,” he replied calmly, knowing full well he’d answered the question regardless.
“Good, that’s good then. I have a message for you, by the way.”
“From the Matriarch?”
“Yeah, who else?” Elandri wondered, leaning against her spear. “She’s with a new girl tonight, so you’ll have to wait a bit.”
“New girl?” the Commander asked curiously.
“Don’t sound so eager, dear uncle,” his niece teased. The lion tossed his mane lightly and scoffed back at her.
“I don’t need to take that from you, whelp. But very well. I suppose once she accepts a new member she considers them one of her children in a way. I can wait for the rookie out here then,” Idris decided, leaning against the wall next to his niece.
“Rookie? You don’t usually let rookies in here,” she pointed out.
“I don’t, but this is a bit of a unique circumstance,” Octavia replied. “It was a mentally difficult operation, and if he dies on his next op I’d likely go to my grave regretting that I didn’t give a street urchin at least one taste of this place.”
“So that dog’s not so wet behind the ears anymore?” Elandri deduced easily. “Well good for him. Not sure any of the regulars will be that impressed by a rook, but there are always plenty of serving girls and handmaidens who’d jump at him.”
“I’m not sure how to feel about my niece appraising the sexual potential of my own troops,” Octavia chuckled with a shake of his head. Elandri joined him.
“Part of the territory, uncle. And you know well enough I’ve always wanted this job. So try not to treat me like the little girl you’d let ride on your shoulders?”
Her words had Octavia walking to the other side of the corridor, looking out through the archways of stone over the western half of the palace. The harem’s main room faced east, allowing the rising sun to warm its gardens and beds. “You will always be that girl to me, but you are a fine young woman as well. Just don’t run off with any of my boys and we’ll be fine.”
“You have that little faith in them?” Elandri wondered in surprise.
“No, just the opposite. I would hate for my grandnephews or grandnieces to come home one day to a world without their father is all,” he said with open remorse. His niece shook her head.
“How many times do I need to tell you that wasn’t your fault, uncle?” she demanded hotly.
“You’ve always been kind to me on that account Elandri, but there is plenty of blame to be placed on the shoulders of all parties, mine included. Enough about that, though,” he insisted as the firm footfalls of another individual could be heard from down the corridor. “Ready to have a little fun?”
“Best part of my job, minus the azure and baths,” Elandri said with a hint of eagerness in her voice. “Wonder who will catch his eye first. Bet you it’ll be Lycia. She loves herself a fresh cut of meat. Never understood why she doesn’t join up full time. Guess she enjoys the allure of being the outsider.”
“Then I’ll be sure to steer him in the opposite direction,” Octavia insisted as Spot slowed to stop in front of them and saluted.
“Sir,” he said respectfully. The commander looked him over and nodded in approval. The rookie had possessed the common sense to leave his bloodstained armor back in the armory. He addressed Elandri as well. “Good evening.”
“Ah he’ll get along just fine,” the lioness laughed. “Word of advice, kid, don’t stare. Surest sign of a newbie.”
“Oh stop it, Elandri. No one gets to just walk through these doors, and you know everyone who does. They’ll know he’s new. That said she’s right, Spot. Act like you’ve been there before if you want to return, and no matter what you do remember your place,” Octavia commanded without elaborating on exactly what that entailed. Spot nodded humbly, looking at his boots.
“I won’t cause trouble, sir.”
“I’m more worried about our esteemed Commander here if my dear employer finds herself busy,” Elandri ribbed her uncle. “So the name Spot stuck, did it? Well you don’t look a thing like you did when you first showed up. Have fun in there.”
Spot felt his heart catch in his throat as Elandri and her partner took a step towards the center of the doors, each grabbing a knocker in the shape of a lion’s head. They rapped twice, the clang of metal on metal echoing through the hallways and surely on the other side as well. As the guards stood aside the doors opened inward, leaving only a moment for Octavia to give his recently graduated rookie one final piece of advice. “Remember, you’re a killer. Most of them aren’t.”
Spot’s brow furrowed as he remembered the kick of his shotgun against his shoulder and the smell of blood. The sight before him had to have been its exact opposite, even before he stepped across the threshold. “So that’s what the inside of the central tower looks like,” he murmured, walking forward with Octavia as the guards on the other side of the doors bowed and closed the entryway behind them. Spot did his best to keep his face stern and rigid, but found it difficult as every one of his senses was assailed at once. Towering columns formed a ring from just behind him at each side of the doors all the way out to the far point of the central area of the harem. Those more cultured than he would have referred to what lay before him as an amphitheater, with a sunken performance stage in the middle surrounded by comfortable seating at every angle. Cushions that had to be worth more than a month of his salary were scattered about in a pattern that appeared haphazard, but each invited him to be seated at a perfect distance from other guests while enjoying azure hookah or simple flavored tobacco instead. He noticed both. Small tables were set up every so often to entertain groups of two to four, or individuals who might wish to take a meal along with their show. In the center of the amphitheater, or arena as far as Spot was concerned, a young gazelle clad in translucent crimson silks and gold jewelry danced to a beautiful melody played by a pair of wild dogs. The gentlemen were around Spot’s age, if he had to guess, and were dressed far better than he was. Their tunics and pants were done in the same crimson and gold motif that seemed to accompany all of the staff. Conservative and regal, they ensured the musicians were pleasing to the eye without taking away from the performer herself. Spot contented himself knowing he had them beat on musculature, at least.
Tearing his eyes away from the body of the gazelle, which he figured he’d be able to see forever in his mind’s eye, he noticed two smaller wooden doors to either side of him. They were both made of wood and designed to blend in with the walls. Spot figured easily enough that they were for the staff as one of them opened and a serving girl no less beautiful than the dancing gazelle stepped through. The hyena lass was carrying an opulent tray with a bottle of amber alcohol, a gilded crystal glass, a small chest of ice, and a mahogany box of cigars along with all of the necessary accoutrements. With practiced grace she moved down the stairs of the ‘arena’ and walked along the row to where her patron awaited her, a rhinoceros who had to be a commodity magnate of some kind or another based on his well tailored suit and carved horns, one of which bore a guild emblem that he couldn’t make out at distance. The rookie watched as the server went about pouring a glass for him over a single cube of ice, not wasting a drop, before cutting a cigar and offering it to him. The businessman leaned forward slightly, taking in the center of her cleavage left exposed by her uniform, as she struck a match and lit the cigar with a tiny, blue flame. What was perhaps most surprising to Spot was the fact that the older man dismissed her casually without so much as a second glance, much less a slap on the ass or some other unbecoming action that nevertheless would surely be permitted in that place. The smoke from the cigar carried up and away from the wealthy gentleman, wafting slowly away from the guests and out through the several open arches across the way.
“Damn,” Spot whispered, realizing just how large the gardens that rested beyond those columns had to be given the size of the room they were in and the fact that it clearly made up a concentric circle within the main tower. He noticed a well lit fountain at the center of well-manicured, branching paths, but the majority of the area was concealed from him, likely intentionally. He figured more than a few secrets had been shared in the ‘privacy’ of the trees and bushes there, to say nothing of the several rooms that made up the rest of the inner circle between the serving entrances, the grand corridors to the north and south, and the gardens to the east. He counted four on each side, each situated under one arch between two columns, and each of which was concealed by drapes and tapestries just as fine as the rest of the place. Some were dark and unused, while others were lit. One in particular caught his attention due to the fact that while obviously occupied, the occupants had only seen fit to close the thinnest of the privacy curtains. He wasn’t sure what miracle of material engineering allowed light and silhouettes through while concealing much of the sound from beyond, but little was left to the imagination regarding just what sort of carnal pleasures the occupants were indulging in. Given how few attendees were paying direct attention, with little more than a laugh or two shared between a couple of well dressed ladies eating delicate pastries one of the tables, Spot came to the somewhat horrifying conclusion that semi-public, if not downright public sex was a key feature of the harem. He tore his eyes away and rubbed the bristly hair on the back of his neck, wondering if such a performance ever took place within the arena proper.
“I’d say that’s a proper reaction,” Octavia chuckled deep in his belly. “Baths are that way, through the south corridor. Maybe make that your first stop? North is the main dining room. Unless you want your ear talked off by visiting dignitaries for hours on end, I’d avoid it.”
Spot nodded, but wouldn’t have been able to repeat Octavia’s words if his life depended on it. He was far too focused on an older hyena dressed in flattering, red robes escorting a young cheetah female through the space. She was dressed in the same clothing as the rest of the staff and had no tail. It was easy for the Commander to spot what had captured the rookie’s attention. He pursed his lips, impressed at the sight. “Well what do you know? Oz pulled it off.”
-----
“Try not to stare so much, my dear. You are not here to look at them; they are here to look at you,” the Matriarch advised as she led Eina from the northern servant’s corridor, which connected to the vast kitchens that kept the various guests of the harem sated, into the main chamber. The cheetah clutched her hands in front of her and bowed slightly.
“My apologies, Mistress,” Eina offered, returning her gaze primarily to her new employer. For whatever else it was worth, the Oasis had made her an expert on ignoring trouble, no matter how alluring. “I have just never seen such wonders before.”
The Matriarch tugged the corner of one of her lips into a smile. “You may just find yourself suited to serving tea yet. As you can see we have a performance hall, if you will. Currently the display is a more refined version of your old profession, but it can range from feats of strength and combat to sex and other displays of the flesh. As a server you will find yourself walking those stairs quite often. When you are finished with your tour today you will spend time walking up and down the stairs of the palace and you will be evaluated each day by other more experienced ladies or gentlemen of the harem. You will learn the preparation, presentation, and art of serving tea in the same manner. If your performance is acceptable, you will be permitted to serve the men and women who pay for and expect nothing but the best.”
“I understand, Mistress. Thank you for this opportunity,” Eina said quietly, doing her best to keep her posture appropriate next to the Matriarch, who comported herself as though she were in fact the reigning queen of Alhamkara. Eina supposed that within the harem at least, that might be true.
“You can thank me with impeccable service to our guests,” the Matriarch replied quietly. “Now then, allow me to show you the gardens. You will learn them as though they are the back of your paw so as to-” The Matriarch paused and looked out over the seating of the harem. After a second of silence she inclined her head politely towards a guest on the other side of the amphitheater. “Follow me, Eina. Speak only when spoken to and do not under any circumstances fail at the curtsey you were taught just now.”
It had felt like an eternity since Eina’s fight or flight response had engaged, sometime in a past life perhaps, but it came roaring back with a vengeance at the Matriarch’s words and tone. She’d been nothing but serious since Eina had met her, but there always seemed to be an underlying satisfaction and love for her job in everything she said and did. That levity was utterly gone, though her polite, welcoming smile remained as she led Eina around the circle to the stairway nearest the individual who had made eye contact with her. The man in question was a jackal with a serious face, dressed in royal purple with silver trim. She understood immediately as the Matriarch bent at the knee before him and lowered her head. “How may I be of service to you this evening, Lord Torando?”
The jackal looked past her and met Eina’s eyes instead, his gaze scrutinous and cold. She just barely managed to dip into a curtsey herself, not trusting herself to speak in his presence. “So, you are her? I expected to have to find you myself. She will accompany me to my private room,” the jackal said in an authoritarian, quiet tone. The Matriarch attempted to intervene.
“My Lord, she has only just joined us here and has not yet been trained to provide service in keeping with your status. Might I perhaps interest you in-”
“Last I checked, Matriarch, I remain betrothed to your princess, the Lady Keiko. She will accompany me, and I will not have you questioning my intentions again,” Tornado responded, his voice not allowing any compromise. “I know your rules. That you would consider me the type of person to break them is… insulting.”
Eina tried to keep herself from fainting, wondering if her heart and other organs would withstand the stress as the Matriarch salvaged the situation, bowing low to Torando with the same, pleasant smile on her face.
“It was never my intention to imply such a thing, Lord Torando. Please accept my humblest apologies as well as a bottle or box from the palaces reserves with my compliments,” she offered. He accepted the olive branch in keeping with diplomacy, though his expression did not mellow.
“Scotch. Second era, azure infused.”
“Would your lordship prefer Sunrise Distillery or Chateau Antares?”
“Antares,” the jackal replied immediately before standing from his seat, turning several eyes as he did so. Those eyes included two of the Sekhama, having recently entered the harem via the front entrance. “I will receive it when I am finished with her.”
“As you wish, Lord Torando,” the Matriarch replied, glancing once at Octavia and his rookie before turning to Eina. “It is a great honor to be requested by such a man. See to his every need.”
It wasn’t particularly difficult to interpret the Matriarch’s words as Eina curtseyed once more in due reverence. “It is my pleasure and honor to serve you this evening, Lord Torando. My name is Eina.”
“Come,” the jackal commanded with a snap of his fingers, leading her up the stairs and away from the central amphitheater. The Matriarch did not linger either, walking her way calmly to the nearest server and whispering something into her ear. That young woman stopped by a guard on her way back to the kitchens and conveyed the message, ensuring that Lord Torando would be ‘trusted but verified’ that evening. Meanwhile, Spot stood rooted to the ground as the woman he thought dead instead glanced his way for a fleeting second, just recognizing his face before being spirited away down the corridor to the wing of the harem that contained the baths and, among other destinations, Lord Torando’s personal quarters for the duration of his stay at the palace.
“Don’t so much as even follow her with your eyes,” Octavia growled threateningly, his hand on Spot’s shoulder as the rookie fought back his desire to move, to sprint. Stupid, youthful passions boiled to the surface as he realized that even without his arms and armor he could easily kill Torando. He wasn’t dumb enough to believe he’d survive the attempt however. The flame burned out just as quick as it had come, and he hung his shoulders instead. Octavia didn’t have the heart to tell him to not wear his emotions on his sleeve inside the harem. Not even he was that callous. “The Wise Ones seem content to both give and take away this evening,” he observed quietly as the Matriarch, no longer instructing her newest serving girl, slowly made her way over to them.
“I guess that’s what you meant by remembering my place?” Spot asked. The lion nodded.
“Our delights are their table scraps,” Idris confirmed as the Matriarch of the harem stood before them.
“Waxing poetic again, Idris?” she asked knowingly, offering him a fond smile before turning to Spot. “And this one was on the ground tonight?”
“He was. He was also the one who received your newest serving girl at the gates before her stint with Doctor Oswald,” Octavia supplied. If the Matriarch was moved by that tidbit of information she chose not to show it.
“I see. I trust you will enjoy what we have to offer here as much as your brothers,” she replied. “You have a name?”
“Spot,” the rookie replied, looking between her and Octavia as he pulled a blank.
“Spot? I’ll remember it. You may refer to me either as Matriarch or Mistress, my dear,” she clarified. “Might I suggest the baths? The Sekhama always seem to enjoy them.” He nodded, swallowed, and gave her her due in as level a voice as he could manage given how much life had thrown at him in the prior day.
“Thank you for welcoming me, Matriarch. If it’s all the same to you I think I’d like some fresh air. It smells a bit strongly in here,” he excused himself. It was true that the air smelled of azure, tobacco, jasmine, and other flowers, but she recognized the statement for what it was, glancing back at Octavia with an approving cock of her brow.
“The gardens are open to you, Spot. Enjoy your time here,” she offered, watching as the rookie turned and saluted Octavia silently, a hand over his heart, before beginning his walk around the central room, scrutinized by almost every pair of eyes in the place.
“Mmm, look at him, even keeping his back straight,” the hyena noted approvingly before turning back to Octavia. “Now, what’s got you so eager to see me, Idris, other than the obvious?”
“By humanity, I missed you,” he replied, a twang of need in his voice. She picked up on it immediately and placed her hand on his upper arm before escorting him towards the same corridor Torando has disappeared through minutes before. On the way she signaled one of her more seasoned staff and conveyed a handful of instructions to her. She crooned seductively at him. “There, now I can give you my full attention this evening.”
-----
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