The most feared villains in all of Skylands, Kaos and his partner in crime The Lost Queen! Dare to ask them questions, their mischievous children Havok and Hysteria, and explore an alternative take on Skylanders!
Pania: And I aim to keep that secret for them. ‘Tis something that we only ever share with the King and Queen of the Kuros, and we have never had that trust broken.
You’ll understand, I hope. It is not my intent to offend you, curious one; there are simply some mysteries that shouldn’t be solved and their answers known to everyone…
He felt the king before he heard him. Somewhere in the floors below, Kurogh was carving an infuriated path through the castle on his way to find Asiirha. The former Shadow Guardian lounged on one of the balconies for the Kurosian ruler, putting the final touches on a message to one of the generals. With a slamming of heavy doors, Kurogh finally arrived on the terrace, snapping orders to his guards and the guards assigned to watch over Asiirha while his guard was down.
Assassination attempts had been much more frequent of late; Maeldun himself had been killed a mere week before, and the armies were still reeling from the shock. When Asiirha finally deigned to glance up from his work, he wasn’t surprised that Kurogh had more than a dozen guards crawling on the balcony, one even wriggling under his writing desk and disturbing his documents.
“Really, Majesty, is this necessary?” he asked, raising a brow ridge as he organized his papers. The King snarled, his eyes snapping with barely contained fury, and Asiirha only raised his brow ridge a fraction higher. “So good of you to come, Sir. And so good of you to bring this much….company.”
"You know damn well as I do that I must take every precaution necessary, Black Bones,” Kurogh growled. There was a spark of pain in his eyes, but it was gone just as soon as Asiirha caught sight of it, the hardened glare of an arrogant monarch back in it’s place. “That amndoch Clochvok got himself killed by being careless in directing his guards. I won’t let that mistake repeat itself.”
“Be that as it may,” Asiirha said, shooting a glare down at the dragon under his desk, “if you would please have this one come out from under my desk. I assure you, no assassins have been perched there for the past three hours.”
"Three hours?!” the king spluttered. “Dammit, we’re practically at war with those dirt-blooded peasants in Warfang! Don’t you have more pressing matters to attend to? Like I do, and have been seeing to since sunrise!”
"How tragic, that you should be held accountable to the responsibilities befitting your station,” Asiirha said, with a tongue-curling yawn. He let out a tired sigh and snatched the guard by the collar of his armor, hauling him out from under his desk as the smaller dragon yelped. “You will cease your fruitless search, young drake. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I am quite a busy drakkon.”
“A-aye, sir,” the guard said, shaking in Asiirha’s grasp. The younger dragon’s knees were still knocking when he was released. Asiirha watched him, recalling that the boy’s sire had just been killed during a griffon skirmish, when he realized Kurogh was speaking again.
“How dare you speak to me like that?!” the king scoffed. Asiirha snorted softly, as he began to put his papers and writing utensils in a pile, clearing his space to leave. Clearly this meeting with Kurogh would go nowhere, as usual. “How tragic, that you still seem in denial about speaking to me as befits my station, and yours.” The king turned away from Asiirha, looking bored, his tail swinging and knocking the writing desk over ‘nonchalantly.’ The larger Shire sighed again, more bemused than anything by Kurogh’s temper tantrum. But the king’s next words made his blood burn with barely restrained fury. “Such impudence, for one that can hardly call himself a Kuros. You spent so much of your life away from us, I’m almost offended you still claim to be a Shire!”
While attacking the king was absolutely against every law written, giving him a reality check was not against any laws. Asiirha sank into the bricks under his claws, becoming one with the shadows, passing through Kurogh’s and making his black heart stop for a moment. When he rose from the shadows again, Asiirha stood in front of Kurogh, almost nose-to-nose with the younger dragon. The king jerked his head back, almost stumbling on his ass in front of the guards and Asiirha, but caught himself, not allowing that humiliation to be seen.
"Careful, Todthair,” he said, his voice low enough that the guards couldn’t overhear them. “Remember who always bested you when you decided to pick a fight with me. You may be my king, but I would not dishonor you by holding back to respect your station and the apparent value of your life.”
”Apparent value? You’re lucky Malefor calls you his Right Hand, whelp, or I’d cut you down for treason!” Kurogh snarled, though he’d lowered his voice as well. “I am worth ten of you. Black bones or not, you were sold to the Fear dragons! They bought you, Maeldun sold you to them so that we could form an alliance with them, and they would stop complaining about us ‘stealing their magic.’ You’re nothing but the marriage cock Roxandara stuffs herself with, the bridge built to make them ours.”
"We’ll cease this childish bickering for now, else we’ll come to blows,” Asiirha sneered, baring his teeth at Kurogh. He whipped his tail hard against the bricks they stood on, sending sparks flying. “You’re just pissed because I wasn’t around to conduct business for you with the foreign dignitaries, aren’t you?”
“You could have at least showed up to help greet them.”
"I was organizing the lessons for the drakkas and drakes in the rookery, like you are supposed to do.”
"Pah,” Kurogh snorted, curling his lip in disgust. “That’s women’s work. Leave it to the queen, she’ll take care of it.”
“There is no such thing as ‘women’s work’ in Kurosia, Majesty,” Asiirha said. “The only ‘work’ a woman must do is lay her eggs when she’s heavy with clutch, and it is not ‘work.’ More like a near death experience that one must survive. And I’d like to see you attempt that feat. Not even you, O Great King, could do the only real ‘women’s work,’ as you so elegantly put it.”
"Ever the forward thinker, as usual,” Kurogh said, rolling his eyes. “Fine then. You were busy teaching the whelps to do what? Write, read? Useless. Teach them only how to fight and defend themselves. They’re useless to me if they cannot all be soldiers.”
“Are you listening to yourself, Kurogh?!” Asiirha asked, his jaw dropping open in surprise. “They’re children! The only thing any of them should be thinking about is play and learning how to behave respectfully!”
"The only way any of them will be useful is if they can fight, and kill,” Kurogh snarled. He jabbed a claw in Asiirha’s face. “And the next time you speak to me in such a familiar way, to hell with Malefor’s edict. I will have your tongue, cut and served to me for dinner, roasted with a side of bogil’viluin.”
"You’re mad,” Asiirha said, shaking his head. Kurogh grinned, a nasty, cruel expression that was more like a uka baring it’s teeth at him from the dark.
“No,” he said, “you just went soft after trying to ‘convert’ the dragons of Warfang.” He tossed his head, lifting his chin regally. “Coddling that wyrm the queen calls my son isn’t helping you remember that you’re supposed to be a heartless bastard, either.”
“…you do not deserve him.”
“What?!”
“You do not deserve that boy,” Asiirha said, his voice lacking any emotion. The mumbling of the guards went utterly still, a thick, horrible silence filling it’s place. Kurogh’s eyes went wide, with anger and fear, and the fear was not from his power. It was fear of Asiirha, and Asiirha loved it. “You do not deserve the honor of being the sire of a Seuth.” A rumbling growl came deep from his chest, punctuating his words as he continued. “That boy is a gift to the people. And you treat him like he is a half breed. Like he isn’t a drake at all. Voteil will never be king, or a great warrior, but he will lead the people into an era that will see them all thrive. And you, Your Highness, do not deserve the honor of even sharing blood with him.”
“You…you mutrach’bachtein!” Kurogh spat, muzzle tight in a snarl of his own. “How dare you?! That’s it, I’ve had it. I’m telling Feuriah you are never to speak to that pathetic little worm again! You love him so damn much, see how you like it when I take away your private lessons with the screeching little brat!!”
"If you think for one damn second that Her Majesty will listen to you, you’re thrice the fool I ever thought you were.” Asiirha turned away from Kurogh, making his way to the balcony doors.
“Don’t you turn your back to me, Asiirha! I’m not finished with you!”
"Oh, but I’m finished with you,” Asiirha ground out. “Oh. And before I forget:
"You don’t deserve The Queen, either.”
At that, and as soon as Asiirha’s personal guards swooped in, he made his exit. It was the last time he would speak to the king.
Your king insisted I send all progress reports on your son’s intellectual growth to your study. I’m sure he’s already given you quite the attempted tongue lashing for my ‘attack on his behavior.’ I don’t think I need to tell you your mate is an idiot, but I thought I should tell you the short version of what I let Kurogh hear.
Voteil is a gift. He is a precious boy and should always be treated as such. The fact that Kurogh shows such blatant distaste and disgust that his first born is a Seuth is insulting to the honor of having a Seuth for a son; Kurogh should be ashamed, and I think that under his arrogant response to my tongue lashing, he was.
Voteil is healthy as ever, as you see when you do not leave him in my care. Again, I thank you for the privilege of allowing me to instruct the boy in politics, sciences and history when you have all of Kurosia’s finest scholars to choose from; I am humbled and surely, blessed by some god or another.
And despite Kurogh’s insistence that he is a ‘scrawny, no-good weakling,’ Voteil shows promise in physical combat training. He is far removed from the sickly, fearful whelp his sire assumes he is. The only perceived weakness Voteil might have is…well, how very potent and convincing his dreams are.
You and I both discussed this at length, but his dreams and night terrors are as frequent as ever. At first he didn’t want to tell me about his dreams; I think the lad wanted to impress me. But his demeanor and his obvious relation to yourself plus his razor sharp wit from our first meeting impressed me beyond words. He truly has no need for trying to prove himself to me; perhaps you should convey this to him, somehow. But back to the dreams.
They aren’t…troubling, persey. Not in the way one might think. He has of course, spelled out certain doom for some that have come to pass. Though their fates were well deserved, I’m sure you know of whom I speak. Traitorous bastards. Most of the time, however, his explanations and his immediate outcries when he wakes from his night terrors and dreams are sadly incoherent, even to me. He has spoken in certain tongues I do not understand, and when asked, he says he doesn’t know those languages. There is more to the nature of Seuth than either of us or the combined knowledge of all our libraries can tell, though I will work with the lad to try and form new studies that might help future generations understand.
…’Riah, I must confess this. You have asked in the past why Roxandara and I have yet to have a clutch…and I told you a lie. Roxandara doesn’t want children; we aren’t waiting; and on top of all of that, one of us (or both) is sterile. Our mating is not a happy one, as you have seen; we blame each other for our inability to produce young. I fear that I shall never have a clutch, not unless myself or Roxandara had outside help. And that will never come to pass; Roxandara is disgusted by all males of any species (besides Malefor), and she is fiercely protective of ‘her territory.’ Which is to say, she is fiercely protective and territorial of me. I so much as glance at another female and she’ll try to slap me senseless.
I bring this up because you must know…if I were ever to have a son, I would be the luckiest dragon in all of creation if he was half as good and precious as your Voteil is. You are so very lucky to have him. And he is incredibly fortunate to have you.
Sincerely, Your Friend, Asiirha
skylanderwishes Mod: So I had this idea in my head and it wouldn’t leave me alone. STORY TIME. This is just a fan-story to go with the fanart I drew, it is in NO WAY canon at all.
Basically the story is an illustration into what an egotistical little shit Reave is, and how little Asiirha cares for his bullshit. It takes time before Kurosia’s Fall, and Asiirha is a human because the Arkeyans won’t make deals with the dragons while they’re in dragon form or something.
***
Reave couldn’t believe his luck. Not only had his time travel spell worked, he’d also managed to gain an audience with the Arkeyan Emperor himself!! All he had to do now was secure a strong alliance with the Emperor, and he would be set for life. In the present time for himself, he would be richer than the king of thieves, with insurmountable power at his fingertips. He would—
Something large brushed past him. Reave’s normally confident stride halted awkwardly, and he caught himself before spilling forward onto his face. Anger welled up in him, and once he’d collected himself and assured his ego that his wardrobe and hair were all in place, he approached the figure who had so rudely bumped into him.
“Excuse me, sir,” he snapped, jabbing the other man’s back with two fingers. He winced inwardly when he felt hard leather underneath, and wasn’t surprised when the other person didn’t stop; they probably hadn’t felt the prodding at all. With a huff, Reave doubled his step until he was standing directly in front of the tall figure. “Do you realize who you just bumped into?!”
Reave was shocked to find himself staring up into the hard, unfeeling gaze of another man. The long black hair had tricked him briefly into thinking he was possibly addressing one of the tall Arkeyan women; but instead, he found himself glaring up into the very masculine face of another human male. Another glance told him that maybe this one wasn’t so human after all.
What man stood at almost seven feet in height? What man could sport pointed ears? And what man of his dark skin complexion could have such virulent green eyes? Reave huffed in consternation at being proven wrong at every assumption, and folded his arms across his chest.
"Well? I’m waiting!”
“…waiting for what, if I may ask?” the other man asked. His voice instantly reminded Reave of the distant snarls of thunder of a storm approaching; deep and smooth, it’s echos promising something louder and possibly violent. Even still there was an undercurrent of something…other about him, and his senses told him that this older male humanoid was a being made entirely of evil.
“An…an apology, of course,” Reave said, stammering and having to find his voice again. Once the presence of the man began to sink in, he felt his confidence waiver, but he didn’t let it flag. He puffed out his chest and pulled a haughty pose, thrusting his chin out at the man. “For so rudely bumping into me on my way to have an audience with the Emperor.”
“Funny,” the other man said. He scratched at his chin idly, clearly not bothered by Reave’s presence at all, which infuriated him all the more. “I seem to recall my audience with the Emperor was going to take up the entire day.”
“What?!” Reave blurted out, throwing one arm out in fury. “Cleary you’re mistaken, you giant dolt! I am to speak with His Imperial Majesty right this moment, and was told so by his steward!”
"The little blue elf with the patch over his eye? Hanging out around the eastern gates?”
“Y…yes. How did you know?”
“Asked for a silver piece so he could send the message along without delay?”
“…how on all of Skylands did you kn—”
“You’ve been tricked, lad,” the man said, curling a lip. Reave jumped when he saw black teeth in the man’s mouth, recoiling in a mixture of disgust and shock. “And for all that, you’ll be kicked out of the palace now. I had hoped to warn you the guards have been tailing you since your ridiculous entrance, but you ignored me each time I called for you.”
“Th…this…no, you’re wrong,” Reave said, curling his lip in a scowl right back at the man. “My father is a Portal Master in control of VAST amounts of pure evil!! I am—”
The man snorted as he shouldered past him and continued walking down the long hallway. Reave gaped after him in shock as the aforementioned guards grabbed him by the shoulders and arm, and the tall, green eyed man glanced back at him.
“Am I supposed to be impressed?”
Weirdlanders Mod : SWEET BABY JEBUS THIS IS AWESOME, You freakn got Reave’s personality down pat, omg Koof you beautiful fart you ❤
The Pebble & The Penguin – Don’t Make Me Laugh
OOC : It has been decided, Reave shall be voiced by Tim Curry.
Lost Queen : Well… there was one other dragon, other than Ignitus…. She was a lot like me back then; heavily bullied, treated as a freak, so we connected a lot. I often tried to seek her out when Ignitus was away. We’d play in the forests around Warfang, free from our tormentors, free to be… well, children.
Gaea was her name, yes. She… she was the only regret I have for destroying Warfang. The look of betrayal in her eyes… I won’t ever forget it. But, it was the true price of joining Kurosia. In order for me to be happy and to rejoin my people, I had to cut all ties from Warfang. From Gaea.
I only hope she escaped with Ignitus, and has since lived a happier life.
Weirdlanders 