FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"The Crown"

by Calypso

CHAPTER ONE

"You can't catch me, Pola!" laughed Yang-Wo happily, racing on the wind away from his younger friend, his tawny fur catching in the morning sunlight.

Nearly one hundred years had passed since that harrowing night.

"Watch me!" Pola, a fifteen-year-old cougar girl and member of the Yunka-Shu, called back, focusing her Spirit and calling the wind to her aid.

The two cougars veritably flew over the hillside, laughing and chasing, zooming by the Temple at top speed, which of course annoyed the Priests and Priestesses, then racing down through the village, kicking up dust everywhere and infuriating their tribe. Yang-Wo and Pola were two of the biggest troublemakers in Beldai, the great city of the Yunka-Shu, the former seventeen, and-though he'd deny it-not very fond of someday becoming Elder of his people. Responsibility hadn't ever really sat well with Yang-Wo, and as he sprinted toward the citadel, knowing he would yet again beat Pola, he heaved an inaudible sigh at the thought of leadership.

"Hey Yang!" Pola called from behind him. "You wouldn't want to run too fast, you might run over your boyfriend Tifo!"

"WHAT?" Yang-Wo yelped, stumbling clumsily, his momentum nearly knocking him into a spiral of somersaults.

"Hahaha!" Pola cackled, zooming past Yang-Wo, her plan successful. She bolted inside the great doors of the citadel before her friend, who zoomed in a half second later, panting and wheezing with the effort of attempting a last-ditch win.

"You're...evil..." Yang-Wo huffed. "You know...that we're...just friends..."

"Yang, despite what the Elders have always said about...you know, two boys or two girls together..." she blushed, continuing, "I support love. It is my belief that there is more to this world than producing heirs to a throne." She smiled, the corners of her mouth curling in a wicked way. "And you and Tifo will make a beautiful couple."

"I'll get you for that!" Yang-Wo growled, about to make chase, when a booming voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"YANG-WO!" thundered Nihara, the Elder of the Yunka-Shu and Yang-Wo's mother, her power and rage echoing off the extremely high ceiling.

"Bye Yang!" Pola said, flitting off before the Elder could accuse her of distracting her son.

"You have been slacking all morning!" Nihara proclaimed, not a hint of a question in her voice. Her long platinum hair was braided down her back, and her fierce, commanding golden eyes were fixed on her son in fury. "You were commanded to await me in the courtyard for training at daybreak, were you not?"

"Yes, Mother," Yang-Wo replied weakly, his head bowed, though his icy blue gaze still held that of his mother. "I apologize, I was merely..."

"I am not interested in another of your pointless excuses, Yang-Wo. You will not be late for me again, is that absolutely clear?" she threatened.

"Abundantly," he responded, a slightly sarcastic tone to his voice.

Though Yang-Wo was nearing manhood, the cougar's build remained slight and agile, and he only now was taller than his mother, but barely. She had inherited him his near-white hair, his forceful personality, and his lack of patience.

"Yang-Wo, I am not hard on you because I enjoy it, I am hard on you because you have a great duty beyond that of any other cougar in this tribe. Before you know it, you will be Elder, and the weight of the entire tribe will rest on your shoulders. My only wish is to ensure that you're capable of bearing the load, when the time comes." She stared at him a moment more, then sighed, shaking her head and pulling him into her arms. He hugged her in return, glad that they were done with yelling and glaring. "Wo, you are my dear one...my only child. I only want for you to be able to protect yourself, to be strong and happy."

"Mother, I know," Yang-Wo said softly. "I am sorry, I will try harder in the future to ensure my lessons are attended to with the utmost of urgency." They looked at each other again, smiling each.

"Come," she said. "Your father is waiting for us at the southern conservatory for lunch."

And the two cougars, mother and son, made their way through the citadel, the beautiful building constructed by their ancestors centuries previous, each room drenched in the history of the Yunka-Shu. Murals and statues depicting great battles, historic occurrences, or important tribal figures had surrounded Yang-Wo for his entire life. His favorite statue, which he and his mother strode by, was of Elder Kon-La, Yang-Wo's great-great-grandfather. Elder Kon-La had married later in life, had his children later, and had died before Yang-Wo's grandfather was born. Yet, despite no one in the last three generations of his family knowing him, Yang-Wo had always felt that Kon-La had some sort of profound kindness about him, a wisdom and sincerity that no other painting, statue, or even person had.

"And how is my wild, raucous, whimsical and utterly incorrigible son this beautiful noon?" Yang-Wo's irreverent father Hensei asked, his white robe fluttering in the light breeze, short, dark hair kempt and pristine, as usual. Despite his overly clean, overly royal appearance, Hensei was extremely sweet and loving, not to mention sarcastic and playfully witty.

"As well as can be hoped while in present company," Yang-Wo sniped, grinning. He and his father embraced in the large, sunny, green conservatory, patting each other on the back and seating themselves at the lone stone table, which was planted directly next to the fishpond.

"I have heard tell from the Elder that you were slacking and racing instead of training this morning," Hensei chided, unable to keep a smile from his face. He may as well have been congratulating his son, for how terrible he was at reprimanding him.

"That sort of behavior, as I've communicated to our son, is unacceptable and will not be tolerated in the future," Nihara said seriously, as if discussing a deadly illness. "And since when do you call me 'Elder,' Hensei?"

"Well, when you assert your authority, I must admit that 'sweetums' seems rather inappropriate," Hensei chuckled, helping himself to the beautiful spread laid out before them by servants.

Yang-Wo snorted audibly, and Nihara gave him a reproachful look that melted into an expression of affection. She really couldn't be happier that her son was so much like his father, despite the resistance to responsibility that came along with that personality.

"Mother, I realize that you still think of me as a child, but I really think I ought to know what's going on with the war," Yang-Wo said suddenly. For the past three years, at every unsuspecting moment, he had brought up the subject of the war with Zanat-Ven in the hope that he might somehow catch his parents off-guard, which would lead them to confide in him the goings-on at the borders of Beldai. So far, this plan had proven unsuccessful.

"I suppose you're right," Nihara said after a pause, and both Yang-Wo and Hensei stared at her in disbelief.

"I am?" Yang-Wo asked incredulously.

"Unfortunately, I've realized of late that I should have been telling you sooner. You're going to be a man soon, my little cat, and I can't baby you forever." She sighed. It seemed like she had been thinking about this subject for some time, despite her knee-jerk reaction of 'NO!' whenever it had been brought to her attention previously.

Yang-Wo still looked disbelieving, but he couldn't help his curiosity, his excitement that he was finally old enough, mature enough, or whatever his mother's requirements were, to know about the struggle that had kept the people of Beldai pitted against Zanat-Ven for over a century.

"Yang-Wo, despite rumors you may have heard, the war doesn't seem to be coming to a close, and we're not really at a stalemate. While open attacks have been limited in the last few decades, our people and the enemy remain vigilant, and there have been casualties." She allowed this statement to settle, as if it had been a meteor that had released an ominous cloud of dust.

Yang-Wo said nothing, but felt that deaths shouldn't surprise him, and yet they felt like a bucket of ice water being thrown over him.

"Most of the times that the Ulcouri have penetrated our borders, we've been able to stop them before they even reached the outer village, thank the Spirits. The last time any wolf from Zanat-Ven made it to the citadel was that over eighty years ago, the very reason we are at war with the wolves. The night they took Ryoshi's daughter, Kevna, away from him forever." She bowed her head, as did her husband and son, in respect for this tragedy. "As you know, Kevna was half wolf, thanks to the insidious deeds of her father and grandfather. I suppose they took her as if to lay claim to her, to announce to all of the Yunka-Shu that she was theirs. And our tribe has never seen her since."

Yang-Wo had heard this story countless times, but it suddenly had so much more meaning. His ancestor Yumika had died giving birth to Kevna, the mysterious half-wolf child who was taken when she was only twelve from her adoptive father. Ryoshi, filled with grief and rage, urged Elder Leev, his sister by marriage and Yang-Wo's great-grandmother, to mount an attack against the Ulcouri, and the tribes had warred since.

"Currently, our position is strong at the border, but the Spirits have been restless lately...they bring news of unrest, of great upheaval within the enemy. Something is going to happen soon, and when it does...I fear we all will be in very real danger," said Nihara grimly, her brow furrowed, eyes intense. Yang-Wo had never seen his mother with such fear in her eyes, and it unsettled him more than anything she'd said.

"What do you think will happen, my love?" Hensei asked. He had already heard his wife's communications with the Spirits, and had himself attempted to gain insight into the future, but the way forward was murky at best.

"My guess is a massive strike, but not directly...they've seen how unsuccessful simply forcing themselves on us has been. Our powers are too evenly matched, no one makes progress. No, I feel something more sinister...a shadow in the night, washing over our people and attacking from within." She was nearly trembling at her own words, clearly visualizing just how horrible the wolves' attack might be.

"But how? They can't penetrate to the village, you said so yourself!" Yang-Wo asked helplessly.

"I'm not sure, Yang-Wo. I've pondered that very thing so much that my head hurts, yet I cannot think of how they might accomplish such a task. Yet I know something is coming. I feel it. Sometimes I wish my father were still alive..." Nihara confided. She would never say something like this but to her family.

"Elder Tethus' death was tragic, and I admit, his wisdom would be helpful," Hensei brooded, as much as such a man can brood.

"The question is, then, what can we do? How can we protect our people?" Yang-Wo asked concernedly. It had been so much easier minutes before when the war had been such a mystery. Now it seemed like the time he'd spent that morning racing was childishly wasted, and he felt deeply guilty for not taking his training more seriously.

Elder Nihara looked at her son incredulously for a moment. "Wo, I'm...I'm ashamed to say it, but I'm surprised. You sound like an Elder."

Yang-Wo wasn't sure whether to be flattered or abhorred. He decided a courteous, "Thank you, Mother," would suffice.

"To answer your question," Hensei filled in, "we've doubled patrols around the borders, tripled the guard in the main city, and we've been connecting with the Spirits for news as often as time and energy allots."

"The problem is, the wolves are shrouding their activities. The more I try to ascertain from the Spirits, the foggier the vision. They're up to something, something big enough that they'd take beyond the usual precautions to protect it." Elder Nihara sighed deeply, a heaving, woeful thing. She looked exhausted, an expression and manner Yang-Wo had never seen in the eyes and face of his lovely mother. It frightened him and worried him, as though he hadn't had enough of those feelings.

"But, that is enough discussion of war," Hensei said with finality, his grin returning, though it looked to be much more fabricated than it had before.

"Yes, let us continue with your training, Wo. You've mastered the free and unencumbered Spirits of the air, and you're accomplished in commanding the forceful and determined Spirits of the earth. Now, we can begin work on-"

"Fire!" Yang-Wo exclaimed happily, desperately hoping he was right.

"Water, dear one," Nihara corrected. "Fire is to be learned last, because it demands the most control, patience, stamina, and power. Fire can be the heart of all life or the root of all destruction, depending upon who commands it, and how."

"Urgh, water...boring..." the Prince mumbled softly.

"Hardly," his mother said with a slight grin, and with a sweeping motion of her arm, commanded some water out of the pond to splash her son.

"MOTHER!" Yang-Wo gasped, affronted. He spun in place, commanding the wind to sweep through his clothes and fur and dry him, and in moments, all the water had been pushed out by the breeze.

"Water is a powerful force, and you must master it, Yang Wo. Now come," she said with an air of finality, and he obeyed.

That night was difficult for the Prince. He tossed and turned, his conversation about the war with his parents fueling his unrest. He'd never felt so responsible for the welfare of his people, and the thought that one day he'd be Elder, and he'd be the one at the head of the war was terrifying.

Yang-Wo's lessons hadn't gone very well. He'd naturally been drawn to air when he was a child, and he'd always been talented with manipulating the wind. Earth, air's opposite, had been relatively easy for him, because he'd simply just had to reverse his usual thinking. Water, however, was extremely challenging for him. It was new territory, an element that took a completely different mindset. Water was cool, calm, collected, and tranquil-in other words, all the things Yang-Wo wasn't.

This is exactly the reason I wanted to do fire first, he thought to himself, fuming.

The following weeks were even more frustrating and challenging. He spent day after day trying to command water to do his bidding, and day after day, he was disappointed. He made mist when he wanted ice; he tried directing streams of water at his mother and ended up splashing himself in the face. Many times, he got so angry that he'd start moving water with currents of air, which infuriated his mother, and ultimately just got him wetter.

Furthermore, the war efforts-now that he was aware of them-were making him anxious. Hensei guided Yang-Wo to all the different guard stations in Beldai, helping the young cougar Prince understand his tribe's defenses. Hensei actually arranged a meeting with Elder Nihara and the generals as an opportunity for Yang-Wo to be formally introduced to the commanders of his guard.

Nihara had taken her son by surprise by asking his opinion on their current strategy, wondering what he thought of their defenses and their plans for protecting the city in case of attack. Yang-Wo had been dumbfounded, simply agreeing with the current plans. He felt as though he'd gone from child to adult overnight, from boy to Prince, and it was overwhelming, to say the least.

When the cougar Prince wasn't being bombarded with new information about the war, he was training. Night and day he trained with his mother and father, attempting to conquer water. However, water was nothing like air or earth; while air bounced and sped and rushed, water flowed and slipped and slithered. Earth was stubborn and solid; water was fluid and utterly confusing to the poor cougar. It seemed like the harder he tried, the more he failed.

Then, one night, while sitting at the edge of the Great Lake, watching as his father demonstrated the proper way to channel water out of the lake and manipulate it, something finally clicked. He was nearly falling asleep at how bored he was by the whole thing, irritated with going over something so basic and not having improved at it, when he noticed something. As Hensei crouched and pulled the water from the lake, guiding it around in streams and spirals, Yang-Wo saw the slightest change in his stance, something that couldn't be taught with words. Hensei's feet moved his weight toward his toes, a much lighter, more agile stance than he'd normally take, and his body swayed and flowed with the water.

"I want to try it!" Yang-Wo exclaimed suddenly, startling his father with his abruptness.

"All right, Yang, but don't be disappointed if-"

Hensei stopped mid-sentence.

Yang-Wo was pulling water perfectly from the lake!

"Yang, you're doing it! That's perfect!" Hensei exclaimed excitedly, so proud of his son.

Yang-Wo didn't respond, he just continued to stream the water around himself, making it circle and loop and spin. Just that shift in his weight, that slight change in his movement and stance, was enough to help him understand weeks of training in an instant. After nearly encasing himself in streaming water, looking as though he were in a large, transparent chrysalis, he suddenly tightened his arms and chest, inhaling deeply. The entire cocoon became a massive cylinder of ice.

"Excellent, Yang!" Hensei praised, clapping his paws together.

With a slow, fluid motion of his arms downward, Yang-Wo exhaled, and the cylinder splashed down around his feet, not a drop hitting him, all of it water once more.

Hensei just beamed at his son, filled with a warm love for him and deep respect for the young cougar's talent and abilities. "What changed, Cricket?" he asked Yang-Wo. Cricket had been his nickname for him since he was a very small child.

"I suppose I just watched you, Father. I noticed your shifting weight, your breath, your stance, and I made them my own. You're a better teacher than you know!" the Prince replied happily.

"Well, we shall certainly have to demonstrate your newfound abilities to your mother this evening. Perhaps after supper?"

"Let's practice some more, first!" Yang-Wo said, grinning for the first time in what felt like ages.

That night, Hensei went into raptures over his son's natural abilities, commending him for commanding water relatively well in only a few short weeks. He said that in a year's time, Yang-Wo would certainly be a master of all four Elements, and would perform his duties wonderfully as Elder, when the time came.

Elder Nihara ate faster than usual. She clearly was interested in a demonstration of these talents, and Yang-Wo was happy to oblige, never having been the shy or nervous type. After supper, the Royal Family went to the Central Courtyard, a large, open garden at the center of the citadel, where Yang-Wo immediately spun water from the pond there, streaming it and whipping it like a weapon, turning it to shards of ice and to mist, controlling it with ease. He splashed himself a couple of times, but rather than getting frustrated, he simply kept his stance light and pulled the water from his fur and clothes, spraying the flowers with it.

All in all, Nihara was very impressed. She remembered that water had been particularly difficult for her to learn as well, and it had taken her a couple of years to get to where Yang-Wo had gotten in only a few weeks.

"Wo," she said with a smile, her special nickname for him, "you are destined for greatness as Elder, I can tell. You have a power and skill that is as natural and forceful as the Elements themselves. I bow in honor of your talents, Prince." And with that, she bowed very formally, a sign of absolute deference coming from the Elder.

Yang-Wo had never felt so flattered and honored, and his eyes very nearly welled, the young cougar giving a hug to his beautiful mother.

After retiring to his room later that night, Yang-Wo was amped up, excited about his progress with water, and exasperated at how much praise he'd received in such a short time. Only a few months previous, he remembered how he'd shirked his responsibilities as a royal and would have rather spent his time lounging in the sun with Pola and Tifo, playing games and running and being as free as the air. Now, he realized with a slight frown, he hadn't seen his friends in over a week, and when he did see them, it was very brief.

Pola was actually more than a friend to Yang-Wo; she was his second cousin, and technically a royal herself, though distantly. Her father was Yang-Wo's cousin and one of Elder Nihara's most trusted military advisors.

Tifo, on the other paw, was a friend that Yang-Wo wasn't exactly supposed to have, though his parents looked the other way. Tifo was a commoner, one of the cougars of Beldai, whose father had passed and whose mother was one of the Elder's maids. So, while Tifo resided in the citadel with Yang-Wo and Pola, their relationship was sometimes strained by their differences in class. However, Yang-Wo had always felt a deep connection to Tifo that had developed into a small crush, though he had a hard time admitting that to himself. If he were being honest, Yang-Wo would say that unlike most boys his age, he hadn't really taken much interest in courting and relationships and sex. He'd always been such a free spirit that he couldn't imagine being encumbered with a feeling of attachment, not to mention feeling slave to bodily urges. Plus, with the added pressure of being the only Prince of his people and the heir to the throne, he didn't feel it would be appropriate now to examine his feelings on the subject of lovers any deeper.

With a heaving sigh of accomplishment, laced with the bitter taste of his weakened ties with his friends, Yang-Wo climbed into his gorgeous bed of silk and finery and drifted off to sleep, tired from an exhausting day.

Yang-Wo awoke to the sound of a gut-wrenching scream, followed closely by a blast of fire shooting through his window and smashing into the opposite wall. The Prince shot out of bed at lightning speed and immediately dashed out of his room, his instinct to look for his mother and father.

Only ten steps out his door, Yang-Wo was confronted by a hulking figure shrouded in shadow. When he stepped into the light, Yang-Wo gasped; it was a black wolf, one of the Ulcouri, the enemy, the evil wolves of Zanat-Ven. This wolf gave Yang-Wo a mixture of a snarl and a grin and commanded the air to shoot a powerful gale at the cougar Prince.

Big mistake! Yang-Wo thought, easily intercepting the wind and streaming it around himself, firing it back at double the velocity. The surprised wolf was knocked on his back, and Yang-Wo soared over him, all the while searching for his mother and father.

"COWARDS!" shouted Nihara from ahead, the entire citadel seeming to shake with her rage. "You'll regret stepping foot on my land!"

Yang-Wo rushed toward her voice, desperate to help, when he was assaulted by three wolves coming from his left, two female and one male. One had manipulated the air and shot Yang-Wo against the wall, and the other two fired bricks of earth from the citadel at him, the cougar barely dissolving them into sand before they crushed him. Yang-Wo had been surprised, because he had been looking carefully, and had seen no one there a moment previous. Yet here these three wolves were, materialized from nowhere, and they were shooting balls of fire and streams of water at him so fast that he could barely dodge them, still trying to escape in the direction of his mother.

He called the wind to his aid, and he was flying down the corridor away from his lupine assailants, his heart skipping a beat as he heard his mother shriek in fury. As he turned right, appearing at the gaping, crumbling entrance to the Central Courtyard, where he'd been only hours previous, he nearly screamed in sheer terror.

There were at least thirty huge wolf warriors circled around his parents. The two royals were standing back to back in the center of the courtyard, ferociously battling all of these warriors at once. Yang-Wo had never seen either of his parents in battle, much less forced to exert their considerable skills, and he was impressed and immensely afraid. But, the Elder and her husband were winning! They were pushing the wolves back with great walls of earth, shooting great balls of fire from their fists, firing shards of ice...the young cougar became so caught up in his parents' fight that he lost his sense of self.

"Cease, Elder, or the Prince will breathe his last," came a firm, calm, raspy voice. Before Yang-Wo even knew what was happening, his hair was latched firmly in the palm of the enemy, and an enormous blade was pressed to his exposed throat, the pressure of it nearly drawing blood. The Prince was shaking in fear, fear for his life and for the lives of his parents, as he saw them lower their arms, the Elements falling around them.

Elder Nihara gave the most pitiful, frightened, saddened, terrible expression Yang-Wo had ever seen on her beautiful face, and she kneeled down, offering her arms in surrender. Yang-Wo felt tears roll down his cheeks as the blade continued to press on his delicate neck, and he thought, If I hadn't been here, they wouldn't have had to surrender, and they would have won. This is all my fault.

As Hensei followed his wife's example, several wolves rushed forward to arrest and imprison them, and Yang-Wo screamed, "NO! Mother! Father!" and began to thrash against his captor.

"Silence, you insolent piece of feline garbage," the female holding him said in a deadly undertone, pushing harder at his neck with her massive sword.

Yang-Wo immediately silenced himself, and he nearly choked on the blade and on the shame.

"You will comply with my instructions to the letter, or your mother and father will suffer my blade. Do I make myself plain?"

Yang-Wo only nodded very slightly, not wanting to open his mouth, for fear the answer might cost him his head.

"Good."

And all Yang-Wo remembered was her arm quickly pulling the sword away, and then immense pain in his head, and darkness.