Summary: Deep within the castle's bowls, feeding the bodies of the dead to the hungry flames, Eps sings a song.
[I felt like writing some Dark!Sirs so I tested out Eps' new role and it came out a little bit darker than I first expected. It seems Eps is a lot less apathetic when she's working down in the incinerator. That isn't exactly a good thing it seems...I was listening to Pegasus Device when I wrote this and the lyrics kind of fit so I altered them a little and I added them to the fic just to point out Eps' hatred for the King she's forced to serve in order to survive.]
Rhythm, Eps thought, was everywhere and in everyone. No matter how much she tried to find silence there was always that odd thump that she could very easily turn into a rhythmic melody.
Once upon a time she'd liked this, liked finding the song in everything while she went about with her daily tasks that now seemed so far away.
Now? Now she was left with the irritating thumps and clanks of a grim song that never seized and that would surely never end.
Day rose, the shovels awoke and began to pour the coal that fueled the incinerator's hungry blood orange flames.
Night fell, the coal was swapped out with the bodies of the unfortunate; the innocent; the vengeful and the hopeless and deceased.
Eps knew how it worked, she knew for she was the one that dealt with this mechanical beast that craved more and more.
Still, despite all lives that had been lost up above and the bodies that fell down here to be disposed of, Eps could never hate the incinerator.
She found it to be just another victim of circumstance.
The incinerator bellowed and creaked as it's dry mechanisms pleaded for oil to aid with the joints that were usually too hot to be managed without protective gloves.
Eps had no need for those of course, so she helped her working companion as often as she could. It was silly, she should leave it to rust until it was unable to take in any more bodies, but she couldn't. She liked the incinerator far too much to do it.
Odd and stupid of her really.
So Eps carried on, neglecting her own need for oil in favor of helping a friend that couldn't love her the way she did.
With each passing day and night, the music seemed to grow in the too hot room that felt more like a hell on this earth.
With each growth in rhythm, Eps found herself humming along.
Her apathy to the world around her dimming ever so slightly as the words computed in her mainframe and stopped at the voicebox, being replaced with a melodic hum.
She only sang when she really felt like it, and even then it was brief as she disliked the sound of her own voice, glitched from lack of proper care.
The song sounded like one she'd heard before, but she altered the lyrics so that they fit the situation.
She'd like to share it but she was not stupid, so only the incinerator and it's gluttonous flames heard.
"Y0u've pr0v-ven t0 y0-y0urself and t0 A-all 0f us, t-that you're n0t f1t t0 rule l1ke a K1-K1ng" She sang to herself as yet another body fell to it's burning destruction."Y0u d-d0n't even deserve-ve that c-cr0wn y0u bear, wh-when y0u s-stand bes1de a le-legend, y0u d-d0n't even c-c0mpare..."
Her one working eye glitched for a few seconds. She didn't know what exactly got the colors to come back, maybe one of Luka's blows from one time where she'd ran into the King by accident, but now she really wished she still was stuck in the bleak world of grey scales. This song, she liked it. She wondered if her coworker did to.
"1 d0n't e-even re-rec0gn1ze y0ur t00thy s-sm1le, when y-y0u h1de 1t beh1nd t-that mask 0-0f pr1de..." She liked this part the most, altered or not it had always been her favorite part of this grim song. "Y0u d-d0n't even dese-deserve that c-cr0wn y0u b-bear, y0u used t0 be a l-legend a r1ghte0us man!"
The flames seemed to grow brighter, a strangled laugh escaped the robot's damaged voicebox. Her companion liked it, she could tell it did.
The incinerator was pleased with this song. Perhaps it too hated the king.
"A-all 0f the fa1lures he-help t0 f-fuel suc-success, 1n t-the bl00dy and v1s-v1sceral m1l1tary-ry game 0f ch-chess. And t-then y0u s1t u-up0n y0ur t-thr0ne and y0u r-r-r0ll y0ur d-d1am0nd d1ce a-and y0u send us a-all t0 d1e 1n y-y0ur r0yal d-dev1ce."
Another laugh escaped her as she picked up a head. Another one of Voltaire's literal handyworks. She could recognize this one too like the many others.
The poor Rebel had never stood a chance against the bloody king and his crazed companions.
What hope had she and the others?
None.
She cackled on as she threw the head into the incinerator.
Maybe later she'd be able to have lucid thoughts again and she could go visit Honky and Brit but, for now, she could only sing as loud as her voicebox allowed as she fed the incinerator more and more bodies. Her one priority in this damned castle of death and lies.
Dark!Nano brought back from the dead by the Hats as a sort of spirit, albeit with very limited memories, so she follows them and goes over to the hats' side.
Honestly, I don't trust Smith enough to be able to pull something like that off. He can barley can boots of the traveler without creating mass amounts of flux!
But it would be quite cool to see something like that happen. It would make for some interesting stories
Why not have Dark!Ross and Queen!Nano rule rival kingdoms? That way we get the best of both worlds.
Helena and I have been talking about this idea and it's really starting to grow on me.
Like, Queen Nano is pretty young, only put in power because her late father's adviser, Kirindave, thought she was ready. So, when Ross rises to power in the neighboring kingdom, I don't think the new Queen would be very comfortable with the situation.
Full title: A Wolf’s Cry (Is The Sound The Devil Within Your Soul Makes)
Info: Dark!Sirs AU, King!Ross, Were!Ross, Selkie!Trott (others to come in later)
Warnings: Mention of death, grief, religious wars *I give no prejudice against those who are religious A religious war fitted this storyline therefore was written in*
Words: 853 (It's short for impact)
Disclaimer: I did not create the AU, nor do any of the characters mentioned have any connection to anyone’s OC and/or own creation. Any name/description that is similar/same to anyone else’s is purely coincidental, and shall be removed if requested.
A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO: stickyhunter for the amazing Dark!Sirs playlist which inspired the main part of this fic series, honkytonk3000 for this AU, lukadarkwater for Were!Ross and theyognaughtfanpage for being my pre-reader
Based around the song: The Devil Within by Digital Daggers (Can be found here on youtube - unofficial video)
Other parts including prologue: Can be found on my fanfic page here
I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Grief is an awful emotion and it eats up inside you. Ross could not believe that he had finally found his birthplace, only for it to be taken away.
He was numb and angry and riddled with the need to exact revenge; this Silverfish Clan would pay the price for taking away his family.
His coronation should have been a joyous event, but the only emotion Ross felt was numbing pain.
He never focused on anything particular during the few days his coronation went over. He caught a glimpse of the crown set with blue topaz and tanzanite before it was placed on his head; he remembered his true name, Demosthenes Jordan Heinrich, the third on his mother’s side with that name, but never dwelled on it - he didn’t need to, he was coronated as King Ross, so that name was part of his past.
The beating of his heart matched the music coming from the piano, that was supposed to be playing a slow tune as he walked from the throne room to the balcony - but instead the sound was a melancholiness droning that would have fitted a funeral procession.
-----
He hadn’t known that silence could be deafening; whilst alone in his rooms, that’s all he could hear. Pure deafening silence. It caused a throbbing pain in his head, that could rumble through his whole body. He needed to leave Cruor for a while; he had to leave this place, as the memories that he had of the palace, were finished off with a cruel and sad ending.
Who knew that this life could be filled with so many different things?
Talks and planning and councils and blessings and blahdey-blah-blah. Once all the necessities were done and out the way, Ross would just keep thinking about how he was going to change things, to merge his new life with his old one.
After all the rushing to get him up and running the country, he spoke to his highest advisers, about returning to his marble home. After very little discussion, as they could see that he had a large want to return, they told him he could go; but he would definitely have to return at some point, as the Hat Lands were neutral, and Tenebris, as shown by past events, needed a ruler. He didn’t care about that, he just wanted to see the place he had built with his own two hands.
In the days leading up to his departure, there were several council meetings, as he had to put people in charge of certain things, to ensure the lands would run smoothly whilst he was away. During one of these meetings, the security of the city, was discussed; this meant the painful memories of his mother’s assassination were recalled. The description of how the Silverfish movement had created an entire underground network, and how the Royal Guard had destroyed the main areas, were only partially absorbed by Ross. However one thing that he did learn from the discussions, was that the Silverfish Clan’s god, Praefectus, had another name, one in the common tongue.
Upon finding this out, his anger, his rage tore at his well-being, the pain from the loss of his parents, too much. Trott and Smiff had held him back, as he lashed out in anger, the council looking on in horror. The angst and weight of him knowing, that his only happiness to do with his parents had been taken away, all for the sake of some god’s mad followers. They believed their god was their salvation, the good, the light in the world.
Ross knew that the god was not good. And that fuelled the hatred towards those Tenebrii people. They had let his life, their lives, be destroyed.
It was not the first time the Overseer had been the cause of destruction in their lives.
-----
Revenge is a dish best served cold, and that is what it would turned Ross into. A cold, raging man with a heart of grief and a mind of steel. He would rule the kingdom, his kingdom, with a wolf’s bite and a harsh personality to match.
Cold bites at those who get too close, and people turn to their friends in times of dire situations. Trott and Smiff could see Ross’ pain, and they tried to help him. But the wound cut too deep, and he could not be rescued from the depths of his despair. They stayed close to him, their friendship stronger than ever before. This would lead to their corruption.
None of them could see it even when the first civilian’s blood was spilt under Ross’ command.
None of them would notice how the servants would end up stepping slightly more and more out of their way, just to avoid feeling the presence of evil in the air.
None of them heard how the wolf’s cry would run through the air, cutting it, thrusting it’s power into the air, showing no doubt, that there was a new King on the throne.
My pre-reader's exact words were 'Fuck you You can't do that' You have been warned *This series is 21 parts long, with the first two being the prologue, which is necessary to set the background*
Full title: A Wolf’s Cry (Is The Sound The Devil Within Your Soul Makes)
Info: Dark!Sirs AU, King!Ross, Were!Ross, Selkie!Trott (others to come in later)
Warnings: Blood, death, religious wars *I give no prejudice against those who are religious A religious war fitted this storyline therefore was written in*
Words: 3757
Disclaimer: I did not create the AU, nor do any of the characters mentioned have any connection to anyone’s OC and/or own creation. Any name/description that is similar/same to anyone else’s is purely coincidental, and shall be removed if requested.
A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO: stickyhunter for the amazing Dark!Sirs playlist which inspired the main part of this fic series, honkytonk3000 for this AU, lukadarkwater for Were!Ross and theyognaughtspookpage for being my pre-reader
I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
~From last time~ He looked forward, straight into the eyes of the old woman sitting on the throne in front of them. They were exactly the same as his, ice blue.
“Your Majesty, these men are the ones whose tales of travels and peculiar looks have reached the ears of the Townsfolk. I believed it in the best interest and utmost importance for them to see you, they have a mighty fine story to tell” the mayor states. The Queen doesn't seem to have heard what the mayor had said, her eyes were locked onto Ross'.
Their eyelines were looking straight at each other. Ross, taking in the woman’s eyes, exactly like his, her jet black hair, also exactly like his, now lined with grey in her old age. Anastasia, looking down on the young, strong man before her, looking straight down into a male replica of her youthful self, right down to the tone of his skin in the shadows. She stood up, her joints protesting, and began to walk down the small steps from the raised platform the throne sat on, ignoring her maid’s comments of trying to help her. She eventually hobbled to be standing in front of Ross, looking up at him. He silently bent down, bowing to the queen.
"Your Majesty, I am here because I am unsure of what other course of action to take." Ross spoke, a slight tone of embarrassment in his voice. "I was told to come to Cruor, to find my heritage, and along the way, the people of Tenebris have said some, well, strange things about my appearance and have further urged me onwards." He continued, with his head slightly bowed still. There was a minute or two of silence, the atmosphere in the room tense and waiting, waiting for some reply. "What is your name, young man?" The queen eventually said. Ross gulped and replied "I call myself Ross, Your Majesty", never taking his eyes off her face. "You call yourself?" She asked, pulling her eyebrows in. "Yes, Your Majesty, I am unaware of my real name, I was found as a young boy by some villagers and brought up an orphan." Her face softened at his words. "I know your real name." She spoke, her words quiet as if she was speaking to just him, but her words filled the hall. Tears started to well up in her eyes. "Your name is Demosthenes, and you are the missing prince, my long lost son."
The emotions on Ross’ face were a mixture of amazement and disbelief. Him, a prince? The missing prince? He gulped again. “I-I’m not sure… what…” he tried to say but the words wouldn’t come to him. He had come so far and had found his end. He was looking into the face of his mother, and he didn’t know what to feel. “Shh, please, you don’t need to speak.” The queen said, almost hushing him. She reached up, he had to lean a bit so she could rest her hand on his face. “You’re home, now and that’s all that matters.” Tears did fall, from both their eyes, as they gazed at each other. “I’ve missed you, son.” Ross couldn’t hold back anymore and pulled the queen into a firm but gentle hug, dwarfing her crippled, old frame. “I’ve missed you too, Mother.”
———
The Kingdom of Tenebris spent the next few months in celebration. The Prince, the prince had returned! After the initial shock, and joy had set in, Queen Anastasia explained to Ross, who then went on further to explain to Trott and Smith, what had happened, how he had disappeared as a child, and how his parents never gave up hope as to seeing him again, happy and alive. Even as his father, the King lay dying some 8 years earlier, severely injured from a trip out to once again search the forest, he had hoped and prayed that his son would one day return and show that he was alive, alive and well. The Queen and other gentry of Tenebris questioned Ross as to what happened, how had he managed to get away? He said he did not know, he could not remember.
What caused the kidnapping to fail, and what caused Ross to disappear, was that no one had thought about the possibility of Ross being such a strong lad, even at the mere age of five. He had put up a rough fight when the manservant had gloated of his success at the "kidnapping" as they left the main routes and entered the woods, as they rode towards the rebel's base. He bit down hard on the arms around his body and managed to kick so hard, he actually broke a couple of the manservant's fingers. After jumping down from the horse, bruising his knees in the process, he ran. He ran as fast as he could, further into the woods. Eventually he was hopelessly lost, and night began to fall. He found a small cave and hid in there for the night. During the night he felt as if he was being watched. The next day was filled with Ross walking around the forest, calling out for help, terrified, as a child would be. At night, he found a tree to climb, it didn't take him far off the ground, but enough for him to feel a little safer. He once again slept with watchful eyes over him. The next day passed in exactly the same way, and night crept around again. By this point, he was hungry and delusional. As he walked, desperately trying to find someone, anyone, his body gave in to the exhaustion and he collapsed, falling to the ground. He cried out, lost, alone and extremely frightened. He heard the snap of some twigs behind him, jumped to his feet and ran, his mind in overdrive due to his hunger and despair.
It was dark that night, no moon to light his way so he didn’t see the ravine, until his foot trod on air and then he began to fall. By some sheer luck, the ravine wasn't too deep and no bones were permanently damaged, he had only hit his head and was passed out. The eyes that had been watching over him showed themselves from the shadows that night, they were some form of wolf spirits, beings of the forest. The House of Max had a past with the wolf spirits, going back to when man first started to tame wolves; their emblem was of a wolf’s head, and tamed wolves were a common pet among the people of the House of Max. So the spirits had sensed that a young boy of that heritage had entered their woods. They healed the boy, lifted him from the ravine and took him to a local village, to safety. However, their magic should not have been used on mortals, and left it's mark on Ross. When he awoke, with no memory of who he was or how he had got into the woods, he was taken in and raised there, in a small village about 3 miles from the edge of the forest and 8 miles from the borders of Tenebris. He soon learnt he could now communicate with wolves in an extraordinary way. And on the full moon just after 16th birthday, he learnt of the ultimate power of it. The magic could not contain within Ross under the light of the full moon, and it showed itself by transforming the man into a beast that was half-man and half-wolf. After that, he left the village, with the promise of finding out who he was, and with a sense of adventure.
-------
“So you left the village, and went to the Hat Lands?” Anastasia asked, as her and Ross were seated at a balcony, overhanging the castle gardens, watching the sun set. “Yes” She smiles warmly at him. “You’ve grown into a fine, strong man Demos- I mean Ross, sorry.” Ross chuckles. “No need to apologise, that is my true name, but I prefer Ross.” “That’s exactly why I should call you Ross.” Anastasia retorts, then sighs. “I’m overwhelmed that you’re back home again, and that you found some mighty fine friends.” Ross nods and looks down over the balcony, to look at Smiffy in the gardens beneath them, showing the maids of the castle how to use golems to maintain the plants and flowers. “Yeah they are my closest friends, my brothers.” Smiling, Anastasia places her hand over Ross’. “As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters. Because I know you’re homesick.” Ross glances at her, his eyes shining, then swallows loudly. “Yeah I do miss my home.” “I would like to see it, one day.” Anastasia stands, her old joints clicking. “Well we had better get to bed, tomorrow is your official crowning as Prince; I know everyone is excited.” Ross nods enthusiastically. He kisses his mother on the cheek. “Goodnight.” “Sweet dreams, son”.
---------
As they stood on the balcony, overlooking the townspeople of Cruor, and those others who had come to the capital to see this glorious day, a rich feeling of joy filled Ross’ heart. He turned and looked at his mother, standing beside him. She felt his gaze, and gave him a smile. “They adore you, Ross. You are their Prince” Ross smiled and looked back over the balcony. “And I will serve them as their Prince. As it is the right thing to do.” The Queen chuckled at her son’s words, “My, my, you are definitely one to watch out for.” Ross joined in with her laughter. “Your Majesty, Your Highness, may you please head inside. There seems to be some sort of unrest among the crowd.” Ross frowned and looked through the swarms of faces beneath them. As he swept over the left side, tucked away behind the sea of heads, he could see what looked like some guards holding back some civilians. Then out of no-where, a flaming arrow came whizzing through the air, just skimming Ross’ face. A scream rang out through the air, and then the crowd started to disperse, running away. “It’s the Silverfish Clan!” “Protect the children!” “Run!” “Protect the Queen!” Shouting and more screaming filled the air. Ross turned to Anastasia. “Come on, we’ve got to get you to safety.” The Queen nodded, fear filled her face; it distorted her face, making her look fragile, fitting the mask of an old woman. Guards surrounded Ross and Anastasia as they hurried inside, across the corridor, straight into the throne room.
Just as the guards started to organise themselves, getting ready to protect their Queen and Prince, a terrible cackle ran through the air. Ross whipped around to see men revealing their hiding spot from behind a large tapestry that hung on the wall, a secret passage hidden behind it. They had knives, swords, guns and various other hand weapons glistening in their hands, and the mark of the Silverfish Clan, a grey ribbon tied around their left arms, on display. Ross withdrew his diamond sword from his scabbard, and faced the men, defending the Queen, protecting his mother. “Now, now, Young Prince” the man at the front of the approaching rebels said, his yellow teeth rattling with every word he said, “We both know that you are not fit to rule.” Ross tensed up at his words. How dare he suggest that he could not rule? He had found his heritage, and he would damn well follow it. “And we also both know that lil’ ol’ queeny is too old and useless to keep the crown.” He grinned, and cocked his head slightly. “So how about you play along nicely, ditch the sword and come with us? Tenebris should not be ruled by monarchy.” Ross growled quietly at the man’s words. He heard the guards behind him form a protective circle around Anastasia, and a few others joined his side, ready to defend against the men threatening them. “Oh, so you’re going to fight?” The man’s smile quickly turned into a snarl. “Damn right I am!” Ross shouted at the man. “And we will too” a voice said from beside Ross.
He turned to see Trott standing beside him, 3 arrows poised in a bow, aiming directly at the rebels. Ross looked back at the man, and could feel a fizz from his other side, and knowing Smiff was also there, ready with various spells, he snarled at the man. “You can believe that Tenebris should be a religious land, and the monarchy does not condemn those who follow any religion.” He looked directly into the man’s eyes, and at feeling a breeze brush against his legs, quickly glanced down to see some blue wisps, swirling and twisting beside him. He grinned, his smirk filled his arrogance and power. “But there is no chance that Tenebris will follow the beliefs of Praefectus.” The rebels’ eyes opened wide, as the wisps around Ross’ legs materialised into wolves, growling, their red eyes piercing through the air, ready to attack. Ross’ smirk turned into a line of seriousness. “You can bend down, give up and not fight, or fight, lose and then be punished.” The rebel at the head of the group hissed. “We will NEVER give in!” He yelled. A fist was pumped into the air. “LUX ENIM!” The men beside him chanted the phrase and charged forward. A twang was heard from beside Ross, and three men fell. Ross leapt forward, swinging his sword at the oncoming men, his wolves howling whilst running alongside their master. A clash of metal later, and the battle started to become bloody. Cries of pain could be heard as the Queen’s guard fought off the rebels.
However, more and more rebels started to fill the hall, until the Guards were equally numbered, and then the rebels started to push forward. Ross spun around and kicked a rebel off his advance on Anastasia. “I’ve got to get you out of here!” he yelled. The Queen nodded, she looked terrified, as she caught sight at the blood leaking from Ross’ arm. “It’s nothing, let’s go!” As Ross started to begin to lead his mother away to safety, a shriek run through the hall, louder than any of the shouting or panting in the air. Ross’ face paled at the sound; there was outbursts of pain, and the fighting became even more chaotic. The rebels had released silverfish, and the small critters were attacking the lower legs of anyone they came across. As the Guards tried to fend off the Silverfish and the rebels, they were successful at killing the small mobs, as their leg armour was thick enough for the silverfish’s jaw to be unable to penetrate, but taking some hefty blows from the rebels, who were in a frenzy, due to both the thrill of the fight, and the poison sinking into their bodies from the silverfish. Trott ran backwards, successfully taking two men out with a skilled throw of his daggers. “Run, Ross, run!” Ross gripped his mother’s arm and pulled her across the room.
As they were just halfway across, a splash surrounded them and they were thrown into darkness. Ross cried out at the sudden lack of sight, he gripped his sword and swung wildly out. He heard an outcry from beside him, and he felt Anastasia fall to the floor. “No!” he shouted and spun around, dropping to his knees, in a desperate attempt to pick her up. “Ross!” he heard Smiff shout, and other splash surrounded them. His sight returned and he could see Anastasia laying in front of him, a silverfish clinging to her upper calf. He grabbed a dagger from a fallen rebel, and shoved the blade through the critter’s body. It stopped squirming and a faint wheeze could be heard. It’s body shook a little, almost as it was teleporting around and then vanished. Ross looked at his mother, pain etched onto her face. “Mother!” he cried out. One of the Queen’s maid dropped to the floor and lifted Anastasia’s head and shoulders so it was resting on her knees.Smiff leant down and handed him a bottle. “Quick, pour this onto her wound, I’ll get a healing potion in her.” Ross poured the liquid onto the bite, it’s pink contents sizzling as it touched the venom inside the wound. Ross looked up to his mother’s face, Smiff had just administered a potion of healing, but his mother was still seized up in pain. Ross vaguely heard Trott say from behind him as Smiff stood up, “Smiff, leave her be, there’s nothing else that can be done, get treating the others, the rebels are defeated.” Anastasia whimpered, and reached out. “Ross…” she breathed. “I’m here Mother, you’re fine, you’re going to be fine.” he said, his words coming out in a breath, reassuring her, reassuring himself.
She tensed up and stared directly into Ross’ eyes. “No.” she said defiantly. “No I’m not Ross.” Her eyes became wet, but she smiled despite the agony she was in. “I’m not going to live, but that’s okay.” She raised her hand and placed it on Ross’ face. “You will make a fine King.” Her smile became soft, her grip weakening as her life started to ebb away. “No! NO!” he cried out, as his mother’s hand fell from his face. She closed her eyes, and took one long shaky breath, exhaled. And then there was silence.
“No No No No NO NO NO!!” Ross shouted, almost screaming the last few words. A loud sob escaped him, and he gripped his mother’s hand; tears flowed down his face as he looked at his deceased mother’s face, her final smile still on her face. Another loud sob escaped him, which was followed by a broken cackle from across the room. Ross stopped at the noise, then turned his head towards the noise. He stood up as he saw the rebel leader being dragged across the room, his face heavily bleeding, a leg bent at an angle that was unnatural. “Haha! She’s dead, and now you’re useless!” He laughed again, the noise reverberating through the room. He coughed and blood escaped his mouth. He was forced onto his knees into front of Ross, his crazed eyes staring at Ross. “Well pretty boy? What’cha going to do now? Mummy’s not here to help you! HahahaHAHAHA!” Ross breathed in, and then his arm swung forward. The man’s laughter stopped suddenly as the dagger Ross had been holding enters his chest.
The man wheezed & slumped over. Ross stared down at the body on the floor, no emotion in his face. He turned around, dreading looking back at his mother. He slowly fell to his knees again, a tear escaped his eye again. He reached out to touch her but stopped as he saw her body start to disintegrate into small pieces. He watched as her body fluttered away, each piece like a bit of paper in the wind. He followed each piece until the final one vanished. The glowing ball that was her soul, left it’s place on the ground, and started to rise up. Ross rose, his sight following it’s path. It hovered in line with his chest, then glowed brightly. His eyes squinted, and through his eyes, he saw the ball of light expand and grow, until a young woman was stood in front of him. His eyes opened wide in shock, as he gazed upon his mother’s soul, taking on her youthful appearance; her fine, long black hair cascading her shoulders, her petite frame no longer bent, a beautiful white dress on, and her bright blue eyes, gazing back. A second light appeared beside her, and a tall, muscular man formed from it. Another set of tears formed in Ross’ eyes as he saw his father for the first time in many, many years. He smiled at him, joy in his eyes. “Hello son.” Ross stared back, words lost in his mind. “It’s been so long, but I’ve been watching over you, and I am proud of you.” His father reached around his mother and placed an arm around her shoulders. “We are proud of you. You have grown into a fine man.”
Ross gave a soft side smile, he never thought he would hear those words from his father. “Ross please follow in our footsteps, take the crown and bring Tenebris up through the religious turmoil” Anastasia said, her smile filling her face. She glanced at her hand, entwined it with Lykourgos’ and then looked back at Ross. “You will make us proud, no matter what you do.” Anastasia said. “We love you” they said in unison, and then their apparitions thinned into the air. Ross was left staring outwards, his face blank. They were truly gone.
-------
"Your Highness?" Ross turned to see the Head of the Royal Guards standing before him. "You are the only heir to the throne." She knelt down on one knee, her head bowed. "I recognise you as King of Tenebris." Ross stared down at the woman, in shock at her words. A rustle came from the room, and Ross saw the other guards and few servants within the room, all taking to their knees. "I recognise you as King of Tenebris" echoed through the air, at different speeds, the words overlapping each other, as Ross stared at the kneeling citizens. He looked at Smiff and Trott, still standing. Trott’s face still had the edge of hardness that came from fighting, but showed a look of serenity and support in his small smile. Smiff’s face was blank apart from the glistening in his eyes that spoke volumes of admiration and delight. They knelt down slowly onto their left knees. "I recognise you as King of Tenebris" they said, then bowed their heads. Ross took in the seriousness of the situation. He was no longer a Prince. He was King. He was their King. They wanted him as their King. They also wanted him to be King. He slowly turned and tentatively walked towards the throne that still stood on it’s platform, a little knocked off centre and a bloody mace laying near it. He stood by it’s side, and ran his hand along the smooth topmost edge. He glanced at the kneeling people in front of him, they were waiting for him. He had to make them proud. "I recognise myself as King of Tenebris."
Wow I actually finished writing this I absolutely love this AU That's right folks It's time for some Dark!Sirs *This prologue is necessary to set the background for the rest of the series* This series is 21 parts long, with the first two being the prologue
Full title: A Wolf's Cry (Is The Sound The Devil Within Your Soul Makes)
Info: Dark!Sirs AU, King!Ross, Were!Ross, Selkie!Trott (others to come in later)
Warnings: Blood, death, religious wars *I give no prejudice against those who are religious A religious war fitted this storyline therefore was written in*
Words: 2601
Disclaimer: I did not create the AU, nor do any of the characters mentioned have any connection to anyone's OC and/or own creation. Any name/description that is similar/same to anyone else's is purely coincidental, and shall be removed if requested.
A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO: stickyhunter for the amazing Dark!Sirs playlist which inspired the main part of this fic series, honkytonk3000 for this AU, lukadarkwater for Were!Ross and theyognaughtspookpage for being my pre-reader
I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Years ago, in a land not far from the lands you have heard previous stories set in, there was a King and a Queen. These two mighty rulers had come to the throne through war and hatred, the land divided by differences in beliefs. The marriage of these two had created a bond that led to the creation of the land of Tenebris. Peace and happiness came from the monarchy, and from that a young boy, a prince, was born.
The young boy had always been excitable growing up, always interested in his father’s work. And the King always pushed his son’s interest. He would take him out with him out on a lazy day’s horseback ride, climbed trees with him, even had play-fights with him with a wooden sword. Those young, happy years only lasted so long, and it was coming up for the time for the prince to start to learn his role in the Kingdom - for him to start his long education of how to rule.
It was fast approaching his 6th birthday, and his father had promised him one last ride out before his birthday. Unfortunately the King was called away to meetings that day and couldn't take him out for a horse ride. So instead the King's personal man-servant, Devadas, took the prince. However no one knew that the manservant was actually a member of the Silverfish Clan, a group of rebels who worshipped the god, Praefectus and who wanted the monarchy gone from Tenebris and their religious leaders in their place as to turn Tenebris into a holy land. So the manservant took the prince out on what seemed to be an ordinary day, with the sun shining and the promise they would be back by sunset. The plan had been to kidnap the Prince, and use him as a hostage to force the King and Queen to abdicate and denounce their family from the monarchy. After the disappearance of him, this information had been extracted from rebel prisoners, captured during a raid of the rebels base, weeks after the kidnapping.
The Kingdom wept, for the prince was the chance for the peace and prosperity to continue, beyond the time of the current rulers. The Queen become quiet and distant, and the King vowed to find his son. He searched daily for the first three years after his son went missing, finding nothing in the forest. No clothes, no body, nothing. All joy left the parents, who mourned for the missing prince.
As the years passed, the Kingdom continued to grow, the King and Queen continued to rule over the land, always pressing forward for the greater good. They never forgot their son, and they never gave up hope for the chance to find out what happened to him.
-------
The wind was rushing through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. Not that he cared. He loved the feeling of the world rushing past him. He could feel the bounce of the large wolf’s legs as they forced the earth beneath them to move, running at an unnatural speed. He looked back over his left shoulder to see one of his companions tilting on the air sled he was riding, it was a strange sight to see, but as a powerful mage, what else would you expect? Switching to look over his right, he saw his other companion galloping on his horse, now “upgraded”, a cyborg. An engineer with extensive knowledge, he had added technology to his horse, increasing it’s speed and stamina. Maybe it was now more machine than animal. The partially metal skin and limbs were perhaps the evidence of that. He gripped tighter into the wolf’s fur as he looked forward, squeezing his legs, forcing the beast onwards.
They made it to the edge of the Hat Lands, and crossed the borders over into Tenebris. They were very far from home. They resided in the neutral, unruled land known as the Hat Lands; it was where they had first met, and after travelling far and wide into the Skylands and Yogscastia, they had returned and made their home there. A large marble building, large enough to be called a palace. Many years had passed since then, and the three were now the best in their fields of interest. The Slime man, no longer a dabbler in the magics of Thaumcraft, a true Master Mage of all Magical Arts; his time in Yogscastia had taught him much, and he had learnt a lot, lot more since then. The Walrus Selkie, a genius engineer, with an extraordinary talent with weaponry; in his human form, he was a warrior, an unstoppable force. And the last of the trio, a strong, broad, bearded man, with a skill in metalwork and architecture. He also held a dark secret; he was a sufferer of lycanthropy. Many did not know of the man’s condition, for it was best kept a secret. Alas his affinity for wolves could not be hidden. Especially as he rode on a large wolf, bigger than any direwolf or warg, a beast that could easily carry around 4 men. He normally used the excuse “I can speak wolf due to my upbringing”, which was far from the truth.
His upbringing was the reason as to why they were on this journey. Among their many travels over Yogscastia and Minecraftia (various items they needed could not be found in the Hat Lands), they had met an old soothsayer. She had told the werewolf that his heritage was of vital importance, and that he must go to the capital of Tenebris, Cruor, for that was his birthplace. The news had been astounding, his companions knew of their birth lands and had long since accepted that this was now their home, but the wolf-man had never known his origins. So the trio decided to make the long journey (they had to cross the Hat Lands, as they lived on the opposite side) to Tenebris.
Upon crossing the borders, they came to a town where they decided to spend the night, as they needed to rearrange their journey, to set course for Cruor.
-------
"So you lads are looking to get to Cruor, eh?" The innkeeper asked the trio as she served them up their drinks at the tavern bar. "Why you wanting to go there?" She enquired. The Slime man finished his mouthful of ale and replied "We’re trying to find his parents" using his thumb to point at Ross. The innkeeper raised an eyebrow "What, he’s a bastard?". Ross looked directly into the innkeeper’s eyes with a slight glare on his face. "I was brought up thinking I was an orphan, but it turns out some crazy old hag soothsayer thinks I was born in Cruor, so we’re travelling there to see what we can find" He shrugs a shoulder, his expression softening. "It may be nothing, but it’s worth a try." The innkeeper nods slowly, relieved she hadn’t insulted the man. "Well I’ll get you your food now" she called as she walked off. The trio moved to a table in the corner of the tavern, removing their travelling cloaks, and undoing jackets as they warmed up due to the roaring fire.
The selkie turned to the bearded man. “Are you sure about this, Ross?” He nodded in reply. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life”. “Except maybe your obsession with marble” the slime man jested. The trio laughed quietly and continued talking, only stopping when their food arrived. It was very dark, when the trio decided to part ways to rest for the night. As they stood up, a loud howl passed through the night. Ross sighed and rubbed his left temple, and left the tavern to go see his wolf, Zanzibar. The large wolf was laying outside the stables of the town, as he was far too large to fit inside, he would take up nearly 6 horse stalls. Ross went up to him and scratched behind his ears. “Don’t worry boy I’m only inside that building. Get some rest we’ve got a long journey ahead of us” The wolf whined at the thought of being unable to protect his owner. “Sleep Zanzibar”. The wolf lowered his head, as Ross returned inside the tavern. The innkeeper caught his attention before he ascended up to his room. “Was that a wolf’s howl I heard?” Ross nodded. “Yes That’s my riding wolf, Zanzibar” The tavern went suddenly quiet at his statement, not that he noticed. The innkeeper’s eyes opened wide. “Holy Notch, how did you manage to tame that?!” Ross looked almost solemn, and replied “I didn’t really. I just have a thing with wolves. A demi-god once said it’s an affinity, but I don’t see it as some magical power or anything”, whilst using his right hand to exaggerate his words. As he ascended the stairs, another man sitting at the bar, finished his drink and slapped some gold coins down on the counter. “Keep the change, flower, I’m outta here” he said as he arose from his stool in front of the bar. “I’ve gotta get going, and anyway” he paused and looked at the innkeeper, “There is some information I must pass along.” The innkeeper nodded in acknowledgement of his words - a man with an affinity with wolves? This news had to make it to the capital before they did.
The next day, as the trio was preparing to leave, a young girl ran up to them. “Hey mister with the beard!” Ross looked down at the young girl. “Yes young one?” She pointed at his face “Your eyes are really blue! Just like Anastasia’s!” “Um, thank you?” Ross replied, as he mounted Zanzibar. She turned to look at Trott’s horse. “Oh my god your horse!!” Trott smiled at her, and the girl giggled as the horse huffed into her face. Her eyes opened wide as she saw Smiffy place his air sled onto the ground, and then stood on it as it hovered above the ground. “Wow” she whispered. She turned and ran across the street. “MUUUUUUUUUUUUM LOOK AT WHAT THESE MEN ARE RIDING!!” The girl’s mother turned and laughed at the girl’s excitement. As she picked her up, she looked at the trio in turn, her gaze caught on the sight of Ross astride the wolf. Ross saw the women take in the sight of the wolf, looked up and saw his eyes, and breathed “Anastasia”. As they rode out of the town and onto the main road that would lead them straight to Cruor, he turned to Trott. “Who’s Anastasia?” he asked. Trott shrugged “No idea, but she must be someone important”.
They passed through other towns on their way to Cruor, all repeating the same explanation of Ross and his wolf. It stirred up quite a lot of talk and it spread through to the next town by the time they had got there. They heard many whispers whilst resting there. “The green one’s a mage, must be mighty powerful.” “I reckon the brown-skinned one ain't human, I mean, have you seen his stance?” “They must be on their way to see Anastasia” “The bearded one, he’s got clear blue eyes and an affinity with wolves!” “Do ya think?… It must be” After 17 days of solid riding, the trio were at the last town before Cruor. They wanted to push forward at the crack of dawn to reach the capital the next day, as the locals had stated it was two and a half day’s journey; they knew they could make it in a day. They could travel very fast. So instead of sleeping in the inn, they decided to camp outside, as to not disturb the locals. “So we’re almost there Ross” Smiff said. “Yeah” Ross replied whilst absentmindedly stroking Zanzibar’s fur as he leant against the beast, looking at the stars. Trott and Smiff looked at each other, sharing the look of ‘we know he’s nervous’. As the pair settled down to sleep, Ross was thinking over the comments they had heard on their journey. “Who is Anastasia, and why has Zanzibar caused such a commotion?” he whispered quietly to no one in particular. The wolf nudged him with his head and Ross scratched behind his ears. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow” he said to the wolf, as he drifted off to sleep.
-----
As they rode through the capital’s outer wall gates, they reached a large market place, bustling with people. They dismounted, and led their animals through the crowds. There was many whisperings around them, the news of the mismatched trio had reached the capital a few days beforehand. Not only were their looks strange, but Ross and his wolf was causing quite the bustle. They walked to the town centre, as told to in the first town they visited, to see the town mayor.
"Ah gentlemen" The mayor said, warmly shaking their hands. "I’ve heard so much about you!" "As we’ve guessed" Ross replied, giving a small smile. The man seemed friendly. "Now I’ve heard you’re here to see Anastasia?" he enquired looking at Ross. Ross’ eyebrows furrowed, "Well no. The name has been mentioned to us, quite a lot." he stated. "But we didn’t really know what to expect when we got here" He looked at his companions "It’s turned out very differently than we expected" Trott nodded at Ross’ words and Smiffy made a noise of agreement. "Well, I think you should see her. Everyone is expecting you to." He motioned across the street. "It’s a small walk, I’ll take you directly to her."
They got more stares and whispers as the Mayor led the trio up the main street. Mainly comments about the wolf. Ross was beginning to feel slightly sick from nerves, and Zanzibar could tell. The wolf’s scent helped to calm Ross down, he couldn’t turn back now. As they walked further into the city, the houses became more apart and more grander, until they opened up onto a large, lush garden, full of flowers and fauna of different colours. Ross looked at the flowers and softly smiled, they reminded him of home, and then turned to look up as they passed through a large iron gate. The building he was looking up at was obviously the castle, the large building couldn’t have been anything else. It’s grand design of bricks and cobblestone similar to his design of the marble building he called home. It was another thing to be added to the list of Weird Things That Are Indicating Something Much Bigger Is Happening.
“Follow me” The mayor said, distracting Ross from his thought. He followed, his nerves quickly returning, flitting about in his stomach. He glanced behind to see Trott and Smiff following him, Smiff looking pale with worry, and Trott with surprisingly calm features. The mayor took them through long, winding corridors, until they reached a pair of huge wooden doors. The mayor knocked three times, and the doors opened inwards. They followed him in, the hall they entered was small but intimidating. The large gargoyles looking down at them, seemed to follow their steps, and the lush, rich colours of the tapestries and carpet were unsettling. Ross was so absorbed in the interior design, he almost bumped into the mayor who had stopped in front of him. He looked forward, straight into the eyes of the old woman sitting on the throne in front of them. They were exactly the same as his, ice blue.
