Chapter 85 - Streak Brawl
“Just forgive poor Mittens already, Leon. How could you possibly be mad at such a cute little kitten?” Skyle said coaxingly.
Mittens, formerly introduced with the unflattering name of “Eviscerator”, crouched low on the ground in front of Leon with his namesake ink-dipped paws covering his face as he let out a low, mournful whine.
“Aww, see? He’s really sorry. He didn’t imagine you’d take our little practical joke quite so seriously,” Skyle chimed in helpfully.
Gritting his teeth, Leon flexed his neck from side to side as his fingers unconsciously dipped toward his waist, where he usually would have carried his focus-sword. Not that he would be as callous as to kill or maim the poor beast. After all, he hadn’t actually done anything to Leon. All Mittens had done was crouch low in front of Leon’s face and indulge in a friendly display of his fangs.
“ Burning all the fur from his skin until he looks like an overcooked rooster shouldn’t really count as maiming it, should it?”
Alas, his 60,000 gold focus-sword was hopelessly lost, much the same as any remaining scraps of his lordly dignity.
“ Damn it all, I nearly pissed myself back there,” Leon growled in the back of his throat.
Poor Mittens seemed to take this sound as a further sign of displeasure from Leon, so he crawled even lower on the ground while looking up at the fire summoner with huge, puppy-dog eyes.
The sight nearly made Leon faint dead away. Not only was this whole scenario completely incongruous with the deadly image of the apex predator that a snowblade tiger should project, but Mittens wasn’t even a dog, for god’s sake! What business did a deadly hunting cat have misappropriating that glum, guilt-ridden, sick puppy face?
It didn’t even cross Leon’s mind that perhaps Mittens was simply resorting to his more closely related drowned kitten face. Already, the fires of his indignation had scorched away any and all mentions of cats and kittens from his brain. From today onwards, he had decided the whole species were a spawn of the devil, much the same way their human masters were.
This held particular sway in the case of the master devil’s case. He had cleverly hidden his true form behind a naive farmboy’s visage. Too late had Leon come to realize this was merely a wicked ploy, and underneath this boy’s smiling countenance, the heart of darkness dwelled.
A rude slap on his shoulder interrupted his scowling condemnation of this den of evil. Not only was this an overt breach of courtly etiquette that would be punishable by hanging, should he choose to pursue the issue to the fullest extent of the law; it also sent him stumbling forward, and into the eagerly awaiting clutches of the penitent cat.
“Unhand me, you evil beast. Release me from your ungodly embrace before I unleash the furies of-” Leon managed, before the rest of it was drowned in snowblade tiger saliva.
It took a minute or two for Leon to finally get the Mittens off him. It turned out that Mittens had been cursed with a ferocious exterior that was the polar opposite of his putty-soft heart. Skyle had promptly gone on to remark that Mittens was by far the cuddliest snowblade tiger in the entire streak. All the scars and scratches on his fur had been sustained long ago, when the other dominant males had challenged him constantly due to the imposing figure he cut.
Scraping away a handful of tiger drool off his face, Leon had to admit that Mittens’ name was truly a misnomer if ever he had come across one. Eviscerator clearly fit the fierce looking tiger to a tee. Unfortunately, it was only his outward appearance, and poor Mittens had suffered greatly under the claws of much more dominant snowblade tigers. According to Skyle, the scarred tiger had lost every single duel, not that he had ever wished to participate in such in the first place. Only after many injuries and crushing defeats, had the rest of the streak finally understood his true nature and simply let him be.
Now, the whole streak seemed to treat the poor, misunderstood Mittens as a sort of unofficial mascot and baby kitten of the group. That he stood nearly as tall as a horse and easily outmassed one by several times did not seem to matter at all.
“ Why should it? They’re all a bunch of monsters that defy the very definition of what ought to be normal.” Leon muttered to himself.
“Oh, get off me already, you overgrown cat,” Leon grumbled, but only half-heartedly shoved Mittens’ eager tongue.
Sensing an opening, Mittens once again crouched low before Leon and lowered its giant head. The oversized fangs had long been retracted, so that Mittens truly resembled nothing but a friendly, cuddly little kitten - if one could ignore all the battle-scars that riddled its ferocious visage and the fact that it could likely swallow Leon in two, maybe three mouthfuls at most.
“ No, I must not fall prey to the devious beast’s wicked ploys!” Leon cried in his mind, while his hand was already busy scratching the silky smooth fur behind Mittens’ ears. They twitched excitedly as its massive tail enthusiastically shook back and forth.
“ Hah! And you thought you could deceive my finely-honed battle senses and trick me with your silly parlour tricks,” Leon thought smugly, seemingly not realizing his other hand had already reached down and began tickling the snowblade tiger’s chin.
Mittens half-closed his eyes as he let out a low, purring sound that rumbled deeply within his chest.
“ I suppose there’s no harm in blending in with the local customs, just for a little bit. I’ll just consider it a necessary step in lulling the enemy’s defenses.”
All the while, Leon never stopped scratching and petting away, oblivious to the huge grin that had long come to fill the entirety of his drool-encrusted face.
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“Ah, I thought we were going to cart some manure,” Leon blurted out as he followed Skyle into the wooded area deep within the snowblade tigers’ den.
“We were going to, but I felt kind of bad about the whole killer beast incident, so we’ll skip that for the day and go straight to playtime,” Skyle shrugged sheepishly.
Leon barely managed to hold back a contemptuous scoff. If that was the best attempt at an apology the farmboy could manage, he had another thing coming when Leon finally unleashed his vengeance upon him. Already, he could visualize the hundreds of court attendants that he would unleash upon the unsuspecting boy, scraping and bowing, simpering and flattering nonstop, trimming his nails and curling his hair - all the while ignoring the panicked farmboy’s hoarse cries of protest.
A grin of unfettered evil almost escaped Leon’s lips, but not quite. Such vengeance was far too sweet to ruin by giving up the element of surprise. Better that he strike from the shadows, when the farmboy would least expect it.
Skyle seemed to interpret his friend’s silence as a quiet, grudging sort of forgiveness, so his step grew lighter as he led them past thick foliage and many majestic trees. Surprisingly, Ash stepped up at this moment, growling deep within his chest as he grabbed hold of Skyle’s sleeve between his jaws.
Skyle seemed to have expected this.
“Ash, let go. I must do this,” Skyle said flatly, and Leon would be a fool if he didn’t recognize the fighting words for what they were.
Ash growled louder as he shook his head, scrabbling with his paws on the ground as he tried to forcibly drag Skyle back.
Ash was as big as a full adult hound, and only slightly smaller than a young pony. He easily outweighed the small farmboy, and this match of physical strength was one Skyle was bound to lose.
“Ash, stop it - now,” Skyle said in the same, even tones, but a hint of steel had entered his voice. “This needs to happen sooner or later, and it is better we get it out of the way now.”
Ash hissed as it gave one last, forceful tug upon Skyle’s sleeve, but finally relented under the steely glare of his master’s eyes.
“Don’t worry, Ash,” Skyle said comfortingly as he reached down to stroke the young cub’s head. “I’ve grown a lot stronger than I look.”
If a snowblade cat could ever roll its eyes and slap its own forehead in complete and utter hopelessness, then surely it would not have been any better than Ash’s scornful flick of his grimacing snout.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, you little traitor,” Skyle muttered, smacking his pet tiger’s head in mock fury.
“What’s going on farmboy? Who are you fighting?” Leon asked.
“It’s no big deal, Leon. Just follow me and whatever happens, do not interfere.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re probably all that’s keeping a dozen man-eating beasts from tearing me apart limb by limb,” Leon rolled his eyes. “Besides, how can I get your back if you won’t explain what’s going on?”
“It’s just snowblade streak politics. You wouldn’t understand,” Skyle sighed while moving forward, a reluctant Ash following behind.
“Try me,” Leon growled.
“Ash got into a fight with an older tiger and got mauled. As his older brother and guardian, it falls to me to redeem his honor or surrender all claims and power over Ash.” Skyle scratched his head, grunting in frustration. “It sounds a lot more childish than it actually is. It makes a lot more sense from a tiger’s point of view.”
“It looks and sounds like a street brawl between two kids over who’s got the bigger pair of balls,” Leon muttered.
Skyle could only shrug. “Yeah, you pretty much nailed it dead on.”
Leon only gave a non-commital grunt.
“Hey, you could even call it a streak brawl,” Skyle added brightly.
“Ugh, kill me, please,” Leon moaned at the terrible pun.
“Anyhow, it’s just business as usual at the pack, the human equivalent of a street brawl - nothing for you to worry about.”
“It’s the other way around, Skyle. Those can be the deadliest, most pointlessly vicious fights of all,” Leon said quietly. “At least with wars, there are rules and conventions to be adhered to. In a petty street brawl, there are no rules except for those your own strength can enforce.”
Skyle paused for a moment, looking at Leon with an approving gaze.
“You know what Leon, you might make a pretty decent snowblade tiger yourself,” he chuckled.
“I’m the Lion of Draxas, you punk. I’ve been brawling with other ‘kids’ from all over the Great Duchies ever since I could walk,” Leon said with a tired air.
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Skyle didn’t say anything else as they walked deeper into the forest. Only upon finally reaching a wide clearing did he finally stop, grinning at Leon’s gape as his worries over Skyle’s upcoming match were driven clear out of his mind by the breathless awe that overwhelmed his senses.
Before them stood an ancient mountain that had been previously hidden by the thick cover of trees. Huge boulders and crags formed numerous pillars that had weathered the passage of countless years. Upon the nearest rockface lay the openings of countless caves, each with several snowblade tigers casually lying nearby. Most seemed to be sleeping, but Leon did not fail to notice several more vigilant tigers slowly prowling near the perimeter.
“What is this place?” Leon breathed, his eyes taking in at least twenty different caves and as many as two dozen mature tigers, with many younger cubs by their side.
“The Den. It’s their home, their seat of power where they breed and raise their youngest,” Skyle whispered, the lines of his face not relaxing in the least.
Several streams of water fell from high above the rocks, splitting up into many achingly beautiful waterfalls that formed shallow pools where younger tigers happily splashed about. The whole scene seemed taken from a poet’s utopian dream of what an idyllic retreat should be. That it was filled to the brim with deadly snowblade tigers did not seem to concern Skyle at all.
Leon was filled with much more confidence after dealing with Mittens. The rest of the tigers - Mauler, Thresher, Cutter and Ripper, among others - had turned out to have much more mellow, even homey names. Only then had Leon come to learn that snowblade tigers were much like Ash, choosing to keep their snowblades tucked inside and only revealing them when fighting other snowblade tigers or while on the hunt. Their playful expressions had almost instantly disarmed Leon, revealing that it had all been one massive joke played upon the unsuspecting outsider. That the cats had played their roles so zealously did not surprise him too much once he came to understand just how smart and playful these young cats were.
“ They probably don’t get many outsiders to play their nasty little pranks on, do they?” Leon had scoffed ruefully.
“ No outsiders are allowed here at all, Leon. You’re the first in nearly five years,” Skyle had replied with somber tones. “ If you were not accompanying me, bearing our family’s scent, and they hadn’t heard about you from Ash, you’d be fighting for your life right now.”
That had taken Leon aback, forcing him to reassess his petty vengeance against these tigers. Well, give up altogether was closer to the truth. Getting even with their human handler would have to suffice.
“Anything you want to, uh, tell me ahead of time, farmboy?” Leon mumbled under his breath.
Skyle grinned at that. “Nope, just enjoy yourself but don’t touch anything you’re not supposed to and don’t look an alpha in the eyes. They will take it as a personal challenge and they will feel compelled to answer with deadly force.”
“Uh, which ones are the alphas?” Leon said dubiously, quickly scanning the many tigers in the area.
“You’ll know it when you spot one. There are three in the streak at the moment, and you really can’t mistake them for anything but the old monsters they are. They seldom bother with the rest of the pack unless their dignity is challenged, so you shouldn’t need to worry too much.”
Leon had barely begun to nod at that when he heard a deep, rumbling growl that shook the leaves of the nearby trees. The fire summoner barely resisted the temptation to summon Draco, as he held his breath and searched across the clearing for the source of the sound.
All of the younger cubs leaping playfully about had suddenly come to a stop, turning as one to stare in the boys’ direction. Even the sleeping adult tigers quickly roused themselves, until every single snowblade tiger in the entire den stood gazing at the newcomers with quiet intensity.
Leon shifted nervously as he considered his chances, should he summon Draco and decide to go all out.
A firm hand took hold of his arm, stopping him.
“Relax. It’s all part of the plan,” Skyle whispered softly, his eyes fixed upon one of the thickest pillars of rock at the very center of the den. “Just remember, no matter what happens, don’t do anything stupid. Don’t even think about interfering. That goes for you as well, Ash.”
Ash growled in his chest, the fur on his coat standing on end and several snowblades rearing up from his body.
“Ash, stand down. I mean it,” Skyle growled, and the snowblade tiger cub reluctantly complied.
“ What the feck is going on here,” Leon complained to no one in particular in his mind.
He had already resolved in his heart that should things go south in this brawl, he would instantly call upon Draco and summon a fiery hell on earth, and the consequences be damned.
Already, he had failed his young friend once.
“ Never again”, vowed Leon grimly in his heart.
“I’m here, Razor. You hurt my streak brother, and for that, you must answer to me. I stand before the Den and challenge you before the entire streak.” Skyle took one final deep breath before raising his gaze toward the very top of the rock spiral that rose well over a hundred feet into the air. “Let’s get this over with.”
The answering roar seemed to shake the very air around them, leaving his ears ringing with a sharp whining whistle as Leon recoiled from the powerful sound.
For a moment, Leon was unsure where this great roar had originated from, but as soon as he followed the solemn gaze of Skyle, Ash and every other snowblade tiger upon the clearing he had his answer.
Now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
Perched upon the very peak of the pillar of rock stood a majestic snowblade tiger so large and imposing that not even his wildest nightmares could have possibly conjured it forth. Its head was riddled with old battle scars, and one eye was missing where a particularly vicious scar crisscrossed the puckered eye-socket. Its head was easily over six feet across, and from snout to tail Leon reached a mind-boggling figure of nearly sixty feet in length!
Even as Leon watched, monstrous fangs slowly emerged from its jaws, extending inch by inch until they protruded a full five feet from its mouth. Not a single snowblade was visible yet, but even from this distance the giant tiger still managed to exude such a ferocious air of menace that it set Leon’s teeth on edge and had his heart thundering in his ears.
“So, that’s an Alpha,” Leon managed between clenched teeth.
There was no answer forthcoming, but then again, none was needed.
Suddenly, a sick feeling twisted his guts. “Please, farmboy, don’t tell me that’s Razor.”
“Yes, that’s Razor, one of the oldest and most vicious alphas of the streak,” Skyle whispered back, his calm eyes meeting the grim gaze of the battle-scarred tiger straight on.
“Fuck me, Skyle. You don’t do things by half-way measures, do you?” Leon cursed under his breath.
Instead of answering, Skyle set his feet apart and inhaled a great mouthful of air.
“I challenge you Razor! Meet me in battle, or forever lie under my claw,” Skyle shouted at the top of his lungs, and finally there was an answering stir from within the watching tigers below.
“ Shit, shit, shit,” Leon snarled in his mind, scrambling to find a way to rescue his friend from the inevitably quick and dirty demise that was sure to follow. “ I knew he was depressed, but hell if I ever imagined he’d bring me this far only to commit suicide by pissed off cat.”
At long last, Razor showed a reaction to Skyle’s words. The old snowblade tiger slowly parted its lips to display a deadly array of wickedly sharp teeth. Then it dipped its head to Skyle with an almost human-like intelligence within its eyes, almost if acknowledging the challenge.
Immediately after, it gathered itself and jumped high into the air, its soaring shadow cutting a striking figure of primal power as it sped through the air.
“ The hell, is it going to brain itself against the floor and spare us the trouble?” Leon half-prayed to himself. “ Surely, not even such a great beast can land inpunely from such heights.”
As if to answer Leon’s doubts, a single snowblade flicked out from underneath each claw. In total, four blades stabbed deeply into the rocky face of a nearby pillar. There was nearly no resistance as the blades smoothly sank in, and as the full weight of the tiger dragged the blades down the length of the stone, they left four deep gouges in their wake. They scored the granite surface as easily as a hot knife slicing through butter.
Nearly thirty feet from the ground, the tiger alpha gracefully leapt off the rockface, soaring across the air and landing smoothly not fifty feet away from Skyle. Unbelievably, there was nearly no disturbance at all upon its landing except for a great cloud of dust. The expected rumble in the earth and loud explosion did not happen at all, and this silence only sent lances of ice stabbing into Leon’s guts.
“ Just what kind of monster has this stupid arsing farmboy provoked this time?” Leon cursed heatedly in his head.
They stood quietly like this for a long moment, during which none of the other tigers dared emit a single sound. The wind howled across the clearing and stirred the folds of Skyle’s clothes, sending his hair flying wildly in the air. His eyes were still unflinching as they met the great alpha’s gaze, matching it stare for deadly stare.
The moment seemed to stretch for an eternity of silence, the tension so heavy it could have been cut with a knife.
Then, as sudden as its arrival, the stillness was finally shattered as Skyle shouted loudly and sprang into motion at the exact same instant Razor pounced forward, deadly intent overflowing from its deafening howl.
It was the uneven clash of boy against beast, and all odds seemed to cast doom upon his friend. However, at this moment Leon caught a dazzling light burning brightly within Skyle’s eyes.
Leon could clearly remember this light. He had witnessed its power, and it kindled within his heart a precious spark of hope.
Skyle’s gift was back!
Leon well knew that even all the horrors of Sanctuary combined had proved unworthy of being his brother’s match - let alone a mere overgrown cat. This thought sent a fierce roaring crashing against the walls of his chest, until he could hold it no longer and it burst out in a great, rumbling cry.
“Kick it's ass, Skyle!” Leon shouted with all the force he could muster from his lungs.
Immediately, the entire clearing was drowned by a collective roar as countless voices howled in breathless, frenzied anticipation.
This was a streak brawl, and it was time to throw down.