“I never thought it would actually work. You are one hell of a gambler, Anarim.”

“You can never win without some sort of luck by your side, even after all that planning and risk assessment,” replied Anarim. “Though to be honest, I think in this instance, a third party joined the fray.”

“Nevertheless, this will help give more credence to our efforts.”

“Oh, don’t bet on it. For now, let’s focus on how we maintain our new frontline defenses, hmm?”

Anarim’s advice was good and made a lot of sense. The Council of Avicelis asked Anarim to come to Summinat to congratulate his successful, yet risky, plan. The old vulpine hellhound humbly accepted the compliments and decided to enjoy Avicelis’s natural city, intending to relax after days of being a strategist for his resistance cells.

But even after taking a dip in the hot springs and tried to relax, he still had a lot of things in his mind. That call with Eshdar regarding the ‘EW’ monogram crest held more than just a coincidence. He knew that, due to the Uprising, there was a chance that the hellhound enemies and their demonic allies would appropriate many former properties of the monarchs they deposed.

Yet, Anarim already had a sneaking suspicion that the whole uprising, and the resulting hellish incursion, would not start without a spark beyond the commoners’ desire to be independent and not to be ruled by the ruthless monarchs. Someone was responsible for starting that fire.

And the discovery of the crest gave him a grim thought. It was something he expected, yet never had the courage to face. It was a past that he must face, no matter how painful it was.

“(Will this be your legacy, my boy?)” he whispered to himself. “(Or was it my fault for not seeing this earlier?)”

As he relaxed his red-furred body, he started to reminisce his olden days, long before everything started to go wrong.

***

In the years before the Uprising that destroyed the Kingdoms of Drundas and Utensha, but several years after the House of Brindor was deposed, there was a kingdom in the plains of the Outer Realms, populated by a hellhound subrace that resembled the werefoxes of the surface. They called themselves Hunters of the Outer Realms, but they preferred to be called Hunters.

While they were considered a kingdom, their culture, and their clothing style suggested something less than a monarchy, at least when compared to the other hellhounds living in the Inner Realms. In fact, it could be argued that their clothing and culture was closer to that of the Death’s Jackals, which consisted of loincloths and jewelries, but nothing else. Of course, the priests who blessed the Hunters, and the members of the court, were far more clothed than the commoners.

The vulpine hellhounds had a reason for this. True to what they called themselves, they lived among the beasts of the Outer Plains. While the rest of the hellhounds chose the Outer Plains as a staging area for either a hunting ground or a dangerous rite of passage, the Hunter Hellhounds chose to domesticate these beasts, turning them into docile beasts. Their strength, however, also came from this domestication, in which the Hunters were notorious for utilizing war beasts that could match the weapons of the other kingdoms. So, far, only the Hunters managed to tame these beasts and turn them into an instrument of war, giving them complete authority of the Outer Plains. It also intrigued the rest of the Underworld.

And it all fell apart when the weakness of the heart turned into a seed of destruction.

The Kingdom of the Outer Realms had no definite name as they took the name of their kingdom from the dynasty that currently ruled. Thus, it was called the Kingdom of Winsel, taken from the dynasty of Winsel, one of the longest-reigning royal hellhound family, and arguably the most peaceful. Unlike the tumultuous reign and the ruthlessness of the hellhounds, the Kingdom of Winsel was peaceful and always tried to end a conflict with diplomacy, only taking arms when all else failed. Being an accomplished strategist, the kings and queens of the Winsel family managed to hold off attackers and quell any distress that might pop up from time to time.

That, of course, did not mean the reigning monarchs were always the best leaders. Some of the kings and queens of the kingdom almost ended the dynasty when they failed to quell the revolution caused by their oppressive rule, or simply because they had corrupt advisors with personal gains. In essence, despite their peaceful nature, the kingdom was not always the stable one. Like many other royal hellhounds, its livelihood was a balancing act; they would have to keep struggling, or else they would tip over and everything was over.

That precarious balance, one that was kept in place for generations, started to tip, before finally fell over, when the last monarch of the House of Winsel fell to the clutches of demons. It also exposed a conspiracy years in the making, one that resonated throughout the Underworld, and changed the lives of every hellhound, Hunter, and Jackal alike.

The last reigning king of Winsel was named Ensalder Winsel, who was bestowed the title of king by the previous monarch, who chose to retire his kingship to become an advisor to his son. The monarch, king emeritus Anarim Winsel, had determined that his eldest son was ready and came to respect his decision for a peaceful rule, inspired by the kingdom of Utensha and their loyal, but prosperous, subjects.

Anarim, of course, was known to be a careful strategist who was still in his prime when he retired. He considered all possibilities and all situations, expecting a high standard for the inheritor of the throne. He chose Anarim over his siblings, who either did not wish to bear the responsibility or were unfit to rule due to their personality and growth. Even so, Anarim never considered his successor to be faultless. He never wanted perfection, anyway. Ensalder, like any normal Hunter, made mistakes. However, he owned his mistakes and tried his best to avoid falling into the same situation. The ability to own one’s mistakes and the willingness to rectify it made Ensalder the most likely candidate to the throne. He already made sure that his other children accepted this decision, all of which unanimously agreed that the humble and kind Ensalder would make a great peacetime king.

Unfortunately, despite his carefulness, Anarim could not anticipate everything.

Anarim had always been wary of several of his former advisors who desired conquest over peaceful coexistence. While he respected and understood the logic behind their advice, he always reminded them that there was no need for them to expand their kingdom when they already had a vast plain full of bountiful harvest and resources to be self-sufficient.

Unfortunately, his idea was derisively received by several of his advisors, though most eventually relented and agreed with Anarim on the right course of action. One of them did not relent, and even revealed his overt paranoia, causing him to be dismissed by Anarim from the court for causing a political crisis that could lead to war.

This was the planting of the seed of betrayal. This was the start of the corruption that took over the hearts of the hellhounds. And unfortunately, Anarim did not realize this until the moment it happened. Even until the present, he wondered if he should just execute the Hunter before he could ever do anything damnable.

In fact, maybe he shouldn’t hire an insane hound to begin with.

Back to the past, it had always been a ceremonial occasion to bestow the title of king or queen and the appropriate regalia from the monarch stepping down to the monarch taking over the reign. It started with Anarim, the retiring king, to ceremoniously step down from his throne to greet his son, who was kneeling in the presence of the king. Anarim soon walked down the seat of his throne, removing his regalia from his antlers to be given to his son’s, then the staff of command, and finally, his ceremonial cloak. It was his latest cloak, not a cloak given from his own father when he retired 25 years ago. It symbolized the burden a king or a queen would carry on their shoulders until the time came for them to step down. In the rare cases when the king or queen died, the consort would do this. If none survived, then the regalia would be given by the next highest authority, which was that of the priest.

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As per tradition, after giving all the ceremonial regalia, the previous monarch would silently kneel and be humbled by the next monarch, who would bow in respect. This part was very subtle and unnoticeable by the general public. Thus, no one but Anarim noticed that, instead of bowing in respect, Ensalder strode to the throne, as if in a hurry, and quickly sat on the throne. Anarim was slightly surprised by this, but it wasn’t unprecedented for this to happen, which usually was the case if the relationship between them was cold.

Except it wasn’t the case between Anarim and Ensalder. They were close, with Anarim even considering Ensalder more as a son than a successor. Anarim wondered if something happened, and Ensalder did not want him to know.

He did ask Ensalder about it, in which his son asked for his forgiveness for it, reasoning that he forgot that part. Anarim, ever the caring father, only told him that it was alright.

“(And when it’s your son or daughter’s time to sit on that throne),” said Anarim. “(Make sure you remind them of it).”

Unbeknownst to Anarim, it was the first sign that something was wrong with Ensalder. Unfortunately, it was too subtle for him to realize.

In fact, there was nothing to indicate that Ensalder would betray his trust when, in the next five years, the kingdom of Winsel was still prosperous and stable, with public opinion being positive. Ensalder was also an active king who would go to the streets wearing humble clothing to blend in and listen to the commoners of their plights and complaints. The sight of their king wearing less clothing than what he usually did made them respect him. Even Anarim, who only rarely did so, respected Ensalder for his dedication to the people of his kingdom. His relationship with his father was still as warm as ever.

Anarim, also knowing that his days as a king was behind him, enjoyed his retirement to his fullest. He kept his mind sharp by conversing with Ensalder about the kingdom’s status and even going hunting in his spare time, often netting Blood Beast that were worthy of being Anarim’s opponent. Of course, this was helped by his young retirement of around 45 after 30 years of being a king. He ascended the throne when his father was killed in a hunting accident. Anarim, of course, did not want to repeat history, so he rarely hunt when he was still a reigning king.

Seeing how much Ensalder had grown and how he handled the burden of a king well, Anarim initially thought that it was a right decision, even if he started wondering why his son seemed more and more distant as the years went by. The present Anarim wondered if it was a way to make him lower his defenses and become easy prey for his enemies or was it because he enjoyed his retirement too much to even realize that he fell into a trap.

Fortunately, he started to think that something was wrong before it was too late. Unfortunately, it was far too late when he confronted his son about it. Then, after confronting his son, he was presented by yet another twist that he did not expect.

It all started in fifth year of Ensalder’s rule, during the time when a distressing news swept through the Underworld: a revolt of the commoners against their monarchs, apparently triggered by the ruthlessness of the monarch rule and the violent suppression and crackdown of dissidents, which angered the masses instead of scaring them. Anarim took in the news with seriousness, knowing that, while the Hunters were content and peaceful, there were still insurgents that could end up becoming popular and threatened the integrity of the royal hellhounds.

But, even after acknowledging that fact, Ensalder seemed unfazed. Rather, he seemed to not take it seriously and simply focus on other plans that seemed to be straining the relationship of his rule and his court. Worried that the king might not see the bigger picture, he requested a private counsel with his son, intending to talk to him about the situation.

He was granted it, being invited to talk his study. It was there that Anarim saw some questionable objects. Ensalder’s study contained several skulls of Blood Beasts, but also some Anarim did not recognize then. Several tomes and candles were positioned in such a way that it suggested a possible ritualistic activity. This part was the part that worried Anarim, as the ritual looked too ominous to be anything he recognized.

After he walked into the study, with Ensalder writing a draft for his statement, he bowed and remarked, “(Having a little experiment, my boy?)”

“(You can say that),” said Ensalder with a smile. “(Come and sit by me, father, and tell me your grievances).”

Grievances? That sounded a little too on the point, thought Anarim. Perhaps he realized Anarim’s intentions and tried to find a reason to explain it. Without suspecting a thing, Anarim simply sit on a nearby chair.

“(It’s nothing much, but it is important),” said Anarim. “(I hope you know the troubling news from our neighbors, Ensalder).”

“(I do, and I deem it less important than the kingdom’s own problems),” said Ensalder. “(Or are you suggesting we risk our own people to protect what’s left of our neighbors?)”

“(You don’t seem to take this seriously. You can’t expect your people to simply sit by and not have second thoughts about the royals. You’ve seen how some insurgents made rants about us).”

“(Yet they don’t seem to attack me),” said Ensalder, staying calm. “(All they can do is bark. The people still trust us).”

“(That’s not what I see, Ensalder),” said Anarim. “(There are more threats than it’s supposed to be. These rants become more and more frequent. You can’t brush them off as harmless anymore. Do something about it).”

“(If it’s up to me, father, I think giving them a more…fearful threat could make them shut up. I can round one of them up and punish him for all to see).”

Anarim, appalled by Ensalder’s suggestion, said, “(You will do no such thing!)”

Ensalder then laughed, but it made the talk even more uncomfortable. “(I jest, father. It is a thought, not a decree. Whatever I said in this room is…my way of venting my frustration).

“(Ensalder),” said Anarim. “(Do you know why I snapped at you? You cannot fight them like how the Schelkzes do thing. Their ruthlessness is effective, but for how long?)” Anarim then put his hand on Ensalder’s shoulder. “(I know you have many things in your mind, and I can tell you understand what I say. But, as an advice, do not underestimate the people under your rule. They are many, and you are one. One moment of weakness will spell doom to us all. That weakness can come in many forms, including unjust oppression).”

“(How is that supposed to be considered weakness? You exert your dominance, letting them know who is their king).”

“(That is a form of weakness: an abuse of power. Keep it up, and things will get worse for you in the long run. As an advice, try and listen to your people’s demands and find a compromise to minimize the disappointment).”

“(You have a point, father),” replied Ensalder. This time, Anarim noticed his response seemed monotonic, almost like he did not listen and simply acknowledge what the older vulpine hellhound had to say. Anarim caught on this.

“(Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?)” he said.

“(I do. I am not working on this alone),” he said. “(You are my advisor in life and in rule).”

Anarim, satisfied by the answer, sighed, before he said, “(Well, that’s that, I suppose. One thing I’ve been having in my mind for now. What’s with the décor? I know you have your own interests, but I don’t know you have a taste of gloom).”

“(It’s…something I like for a while),” said Ensalder. “(Is collecting my own hunt seem weird?)”

“(Isn’t it better to stuff them instead of…keeping their skull?)”

“(S-stuffing them will deprive them of their true anatomical beauty),” said Ensalder, who seemed to hesitate. “(I am more fascinated by their bones, not by how they looked).”

“(I…see. Well, I won’t bother you any longer. I bet there is a line of advisors waiting for me).”

“(I…don’t like making bets, father. I…act).”

That answer seemed weird, and it started to make Anarim worried that he was planning something that might backfire.

But instead of a poorly made plan, it was something far worse.

His wife, Khielis, gave birth to a healthy cub that same year. Ensalder wasn’t around to witness it due to his diplomatic mission with a neighboring country, apparently heeding Anarim’s remark about the Uprising and he was trying his best to support the royal families affected, possibly also rescuing them from further persecution. Ensalder never told Khielis his choice for the newborn’s name, requiring Anarim to give the cub’s name. After deliberating about it, he settled on a name.

“(How about Eshdar?)” he suggested. “(It’s the name of my father’s uncle. I am rather fond of him when I was young).”

“(Eshdar…it is a good name),” said Khielis. “(A shame my king is away).”

“(A shame he never told you his choice of names),” said Anarim. “(What the hell is wrong with you, Ensalder?)”

Ensalder did return after his diplomatic mission. When Khielis showed him his son, he looked elated and even hugged the child. Anarim, however, saw something different on his face. It was malicious, with his smile looking like a devilish, toothy grin that almost look like he was elated not because of the cub’s birth, but because his nefarious plan succeeded. The older hellhound did not seem to think about it much and dismissed it as his imagination. He already had suspicions of Ensalder’s attitudes, one that seemed to be quelled when he looked happy with Eshdar’s birth.

But that face was not an imagination, as Anarim later realized. Rather, that face implied what it really was: that Ensalder had a plan for his son. Whatever it was, it would be sinister.

***

Anarim shuddered as he started to remember the nightmare he had to go through before he could escape to the surface. He lamented the fact that he completely missed the signs, and he and everyone he cared suffered as a result.

His relaxing evening became an evening of regret, knowing that he should’ve seen it thirty years earlier. If he did, everything could’ve been prevented. Ensalder could have been freed from the chain that ensnared him. In fact, the hellish incursion could’ve been prevented. Rather, his blind love destroyed everyone’s livelihood. Not just him, but Eshdar’s, Ifrit’s, Rhynsa’s, and even Anubis’s. In fact, he should include Lilac for becoming involved with the problems from the Underworld.

Yet, the traumatic event he suffered was part of it, and the old hellhound only had himself to blame. He did not want to wallow in his own guilt, however.

In any case, remembering the pain he experienced gave him a new appreciation of his own efforts. And so, he kept reminiscing.