Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan

The sun was already beginning its slow descent below the tangled canopy of the swamp when Viper finally slithered back.

He looked miserable. He was covered from head to tail in thick, foul-smelling mud, his obsidian spear was nicked from hacking through vines and webs of slime, and he was exhausted. He slithered into the hall, his lower coils dragging across the stone.

"My King," Viper rasped, dropping to one knee before Syris. He kept his head bowed, terrified to look at his face. "I have failed. I searched every tree, every branch, under every rock and in every cave in the swamp. The bird... he is gone. He must have flown away."

Syris’ amethyst eyes flashed with a dangerous light.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Viper was right. The Golden Eagle had indeed left or rather, in the process of leaving.

The Golden Eagle beastman was in his beastman form, his golden wings hidden as he silently moved through the swamp foilage.

He had waited in a tree for hours. He had watched and listened to Viper yell, threaten, and attempt to bribe him.

Ren had not returned though she said she would and he was beginning to not know what to do anymore. Altair looked down at the tiny, snoring bundle resting in the crook of his arm.

The white-and-black tiger cub was still fast asleep, its tiny nose twitching as it dreamed. Altair had no idea how to care for an infant feline. Did it need natural milk? Did it need meat? He was a beast of the skies and even the young of his own kind he struggled to understand.

Ren had asked him to care for the cub while she was gone, and Altair was going to honor that request with his life. The most sensible course of action was to head back to the village Ren had been building. The tiger beastmen there would know exactly how to keep the tiny creature alive.

Snap.

Altair didn’t stop walking, but his golden eyes instantly tracked the small sound.

"My, my. Leaving so soon, Your Highness?"

A smooth voice drifted through the drying trees. Stepping out from behind the trunk of a tree was Vex.

The Fox Shaman smiled, his orange eyes dancing with delight. He had effortlessly killed the two snake guards Syris had assigned to watch him and slipped out, just happening to spot Altair making his quiet departure when Viper had given up.

Vex’s gaze instantly dropped to Altair’s arms. The Fox Shaman’s eyes sparkled with joy.

"Is that what I think it is?" Vex purred, taking a graceful step forward, his three fluffy orange tails swishing behind him. "A conscious feral from birth? Oh, that is magnificent. The Snake King is currently tearing the swamp apart looking for you, bird. But I am a reasonable guy. I will pretend I didn’t see you out here... if you hand over the cub."

Altair stopped walking. He looked at Vex.

He said nothing.

The Golden Eagle’s face was a perfect, unreadable mask of stoic indifference. There wasn’t a single flicker of curiosity, fear, or even basic annoyance in his striking golden eyes. He just stared at the fox beastman as if Vex were a particularly uninteresting rock.

Ren had told him stories about this fox. She had complained about his tricks, his manipulative games, and his relationship with her. Altair knew exactly who Vex was, and because of that, Altair could not be tricked. He simply didn’t care about anything the fox had to say. His only priority was the sleeping cub.

Vex’s smile tightened slightly at the awkward silence.

"The cub is my property," Vex insisted, his tone dropping its playful lilt, replaced by a cold, demanding edge. "He is the result of my efforts. Hand him over. He belongs to me."

As if responding to the loud, annoying voice, the tiny tiger cub stirred. It let out a soft, high-pitched squeak, stretching its little paws. It blinked its sleepy eyes open, looked up at Altair, and reached a small hand up to gently touch the eagle’s jaw.

The second the cub’s hand made contact with his skin, Altair’s entire world vanished.

He wasn’t standing in the swamp anymore. He was ripped backward through time, sucked into the darkest, most painful depths of his own past.

He was a young fledgling again. He was kneeling on the freezing, jagged stone of the highest peaks of the Northern Mountains. The crack of a whip slashed across his back, tearing his flesh open.

"Cry!" a manic, desperate voice screamed in his ears. "Cry for me, you useless runt! Give me the tears!"

It was his father. The Mad Bird King. An old, decaying eagle desperate to cheat death and aging by harvesting his own son’s magical, healing tears.

The vision suddenly shifted. Altair saw the day he finally broke. The day he leapt from the mountain peak, his wings burning with exhaustion as he flew for days, desperately seeking an escape.

The vision shifted one final time. He was perched high in a tree, nursing his wounds, numb to the world. Then, he looked up. He saw a tiny, red-haired female literally fall out of the blue sky. She plummeted through the branches, landing in the dirt with a thud, in the path of a feral white tiger. She was holding a flat, black iron rock.

It was the first time he had ever laid eyes on Ren. He had watched her with distant, detached disinterest, expecting the tiger to eat her.

Altair gasped, the vision releasing him just as abruptly as it had seized him. He stumbled back a half-step, his golden eyes wide with shock as he stared down at the tiny tiger cub.

How? How could this infant beastman show him all of that? He had projected Altair’s own memories back into his mind with a single touch.

Vex, watching Altair’s sudden, dramatic reaction, was very confused and even more intrigued all at the same time. The fox’s tails bristled with excitement.

"Fascinating," Vex breathed, stepping closer. He was getting impatient. He wanted to play around with the cub. He needed to dissect its abilities. A beast born with the feral madness, but conscious? It was the biggest breakthrough in his research since Ren had introduced him to her madness-curing food. Vex knew with certainty that Ren’s cooking had altered the cub’s development.

The cub wasn’t the monstrous, violent little killing machine Vex had originally envisioned, but at least, tame like this, he would be very easy to handle. If only the stupid bird would just hand it over.

Vex remained sly, deciding to drop the pleasantries.

"You aren’t half as mysterious as you think you are, little birdie," Vex threatened smoothly, crossing his arms and smirking. "I know exactly who you truly are. You are the Golden Eagle Prince of the Northern Mountains. Your father is the Mad Bird King."

Altair’s expression didn’t change a fraction. He looked at Vex blankly.

"I know the King has a rather hefty bounty on your head," Vex continued, pacing slowly around Altair like a shark. "I wonder..." Vex hummed, a cruel, mocking sound, "...what exactly will happen if the Mad Bird King finds out exactly where you’ve been hiding?"

Altair stared at him. For a long moment, the only sound was the rustle of the leaves.

Then, with a flex of his back muscles, Altair’s glorious golden wings sprouted fully from his back. They snapped open, casting an intimidating shadow over the smaller fox beastman.

Altair looked down at Vex.

"Oh," Altair said simply. His voice was flat, devoid of any panic or concern.

He paused, adjusting the cub in his arms.

"You still won’t get the cub."

Vex’s jaw tightened so hard his teeth audibly ground together. He fought to mask his boiling frustration. He felt as though he was talking to a brick wall. He didn’t like this bird’s personality at all. Where was the fear? Where was the panic?

"Do you not hear me?!" Vex asked angrily, dropping the suave act entirely. "You don’t fear your father knowing where you are?"

"No," Altair responded calmly.

It was the truth. Altair didn’t fear his father anymore. After the many moons and brutal seasons of mistreatment, torture, and abuse, the eagle had grown numb to many of his own emotions. Fear was the very first one to die.

He had to fend for himself after running away. He had to protect himself from the countless beasts his father had sent after him. The jungle had stripped away his softness, making him stronger, colder, and taught him how to fight to kill. His father was just an old, dying eagle desperately clinging to life.

Altair was done being used. If his father did end up finding him, Altair wouldn’t run. He’d simply kill the old bird and be done with it.

Vex let out a frustrated growl. He really didn’t want it to have to come to this, but the eagle was leaving him no choice.

"Fine," Vex sneered, playing his final card. "Sit in a tree and play babysitter. But know this, Prince. Ren will die if you don’t come quickly. The Snake King cannot save her."

Vex knew she wasn’t dying; she had only fainted from exhaustion catching up to her. But Vex wanted Altair and the cub. He wanted the joy of watching Syris freak out, and he wanted to milk the chaos of the situation before she would eventually wake up.

"So," Vex smirked, tilting his head mockingly at the Golden Eagle. "Won’t you heal your precious mate?"