The Hybrid stood at his round table in his Dreyhal castle, discussing strategies with his most loyal advisors. The city had fallen to terrorism and rebellious attacks since he exiled Cadivus and Thermia over a month ago. They were still trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

“Why don’t we just call them back and execute them?” One advisor asked.

“Let me be clear: their death is off the friggin’ table,” The Hybrid said.

The advisors all spoke among themselves.

“I got an idea,” one said, “Why don’t we just have a bake sale but give a twenty-five percent discount to the rebels? Then when they get the discount, we gut em like fish.”

“Shut up! Duncan!” everyone shouted at once.

“Forgive me for thinking out the box…”

“I thought Cadivus and Thermia would have returned with the leader of that dang leafer village by now,” The Hybrid said. “The fact that they aren’t back yet…Well, gods only know what happened to those numbskulls. Any reports from scouts or spies?”

He turned to another advisor, who sighed before reading a report.

“Cadivus and Thermia have not been spotted since Pribbs, and we only know that much because we found the journal of one of our spies on his body outside of the town. Something is not right about any of this, my lord.”

He stared off into the distance, thinking the report over.

One man ran into the meeting room, screaming as loud as he could. “Fire! There’s a fire, sirs!” He doubled over and breathed heavily.

Everyone inside walked toward the small castle’s entrance and observed the news. Several large fires were lit all over the town. Panicked screaming and crying came from all directions.

“All members of the guard, douse those fires now!” The Hybrid ordered as he summoned the smoke toward him.

As the guards prepared to leave, a large crowd gathered outside the gate, chanting.

“Down with hybrids! Down with hybrids!” They banged on the gate with a battering ram until it broke open. When the doors blew open, two hundred people walked into the courtyard, continuing their chant.

The guards drew their bows and held position.

“Chill,” The Hybrid said, and they stood down. He approached the crowd on his own. “Who’s the leader of these dented muffins?”

A brown-haired middle-aged man stepped out from the crowd with a sword in his hand. He pointed it toward The Hybrid.

“We’ve had enough of the tyrannical lord! Over a hundred dead, and the killer roams free…We won’t stand for it.”

“So, you’ve decided to burn down the homes of the innocent to teach me a lesson? Is that the idea?”

“Well, yes, that was the idea. We had to show you how serious we were.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Let me get this straight. You depose me and then install yourself, I’m guessing. Do you arrest the people who set the fires once you’re the leader?”

“I would imagine some amnesty is in order, yes. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just wanted to be sure the people I’m about to kill are frickin fools! If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s hypocrites!”

The brown-haired man laughed, turning to the crowd urging them to laugh with him, which they did. He then aimed his sword at The Hybrid once more.

“I’ve heard the stories, sure, but I’ve heard stories of unicorns saving kids from wells too. I don’t believe a word of your bullshit legend.”

“Well, let’s pretend you came from a well then.” The Hybrid stood tall with his hands behind his back.

The brown-haired man, thinking he had an upper hand, charged in and swung his sword down. The blade passed through The Hybrid’s body. Once it was through, The Hybrid swung his own sword once, slicing the brown-haired man’s neck. He fell to the ground and bled out at The Hybrid’s feet.

The Hybrid looked toward the crowd, hoping the display would make them retreat. However, they screamed and slammed their weapons to their shields. He looked past them, at the many homes engulfed in flames. The image reminded him of Cadivus, and of her.

“Your discount militia has made a serious error on this day. For where there’s fire”—-he looked down as the crowd charged toward him—“there’s smoke.”

As the crowd charged, he crashed smoke down before him. They paused in the dense cloud—unable to see their enemy and unable to breathe. He lowered the cloud to the ground, giving them a few gasps of air, before wrapping his tendrils around their necks and entering their mouths to grab their lungs. It wasn’t long before the crowd succumbed to his smoke grasp. When the last body went limp, he released them and sent the smoke to the skies.

“Now, douse the flames,” he told his guard.

They ran past him and carried out their duties.

He stared at the bodies across the courtyard, trying to decipher how he felt about it. “Have I been idle for too long? How long have I sat behind these gates?” He clenched his fist and gazed far into the woods beyond. Where everything more important to him than Dreyhal held an unknowable fate. He almost allowed his emotions to show, but a terrible pain assaulted his stomach.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Gerald said, his spear in The Hybrid. “I can’t continue to witness your kind’s wrath against us. You let him leave. Then you kill twice as many…It ends now.”

“My name…” He tried to catch his breath. “Is no…no longer lord…No longer The Hybrid.”

Gerald twisted the spear.

“It’s Marcus!”

He phased through the spear, causing Gerald to fall onto his back. He grabbed him and launched him through the air. Gerald landed on his head, down the stairs. He walked down to Gerald while holding his wound closed. After kicking off Gerald’s helmet, he stabbed his sword through his head and let it stick into the ground.

The Hybrid moaned once more before falling onto his side. He rolled onto his back and stared at the clouds. “I’ll fix th-this…I-I’ll save…my—”

The world faded to black.

**********

Darion rode home by his lonesome. Even though he lost his men, a great sense of ecstasy carried him.

He never thought of his village until he was a few hours away. The whole ordeal then spun over and over in his head. He wondered if he had nailed the monologue.

He breached a dune and for the first time in weeks he saw his home. The walls were strong, and plumes of smoke filled the air. The deal with the crown proved to be fruitful after all.

As he approached the gate, the guards above halted him.

“Halt! What business have you?” one guard called down.

Darion lowered the cloth wrapped around his face. When the guard saw it, he screamed for the gate to be opened. The gate soon opened, and there stood Toonda with her husband. She held a baby in her arms. He jumped off his horse and greeted them, shaking hands with Doban and hugging her. She handed him the baby and he held the child and smiled.

“Is it over Darion?” Toonda asked.

He handed the baby to Doban.

“Yes…It’s…it’s finally over.” A small glimmer of emptiness betrayed him, yet she smiled all the same.

Behind them, the guards shouted orders, and bows were drawn.

“Halt! What business have you?” the guards shouted.

“Excuse me. Duty calls.” Darion told the couple before he ran toward the gates. When he approached them, he saw a dark-skinned woman standing in the sands before them, her skin covered in sweat and her breathing heavy. “Ekio?”