Favorite Comic Villains

Being an avid reader of comics, as well as a person who tends to find villains among the most interesting characters in any work of fiction, I thought I'd combine the two. After all, the ninth art-form has given us plenty of memorable evil-doers. Below are some of my favorites (in no particular order).

Sir William Gull (From Hell)

Although V for Vendetta and Watchmen are doubtlessly more well known, From Hell is what I consider to be Alan Moore's magnum opus. Its a dense, grandiose work about the Whitechapel Murders and the birth of the 20th century. At the core of this dark tale we find Sir William Gull, Queen Victoria's royal physician, who Moore puts into the role of Jack the Ripper. Moore's Sir Willaim is an amazing creation; a larger than life character who dominates the narrative of From Hell, even when he doesn't appear on page. The 30+ page long monologue in which Gull gets to lay out his beliefs and thoughts on history, religion men and women, is truly powerful stuff and establishes the good doctor as Moore's greatest and most terrifying creation. I can't think of any better villain to kick this list off with.

Johan Liebert (Monster)

Naoki Urasawa has a knack for creating memorable villains and his best example in that category has to be Johan, the titular character in his excellent thriller-manga, Monster. If I had to pick the most sinister villain in a manga, this guy would be it. Incredibly handsome and charismatic, Johan's polite, soft-spoken demeanor and angelical good looks only serve to make him scarier than he would be if his appearance and behavior was closer to that of what one would normally expect from a villain. Whether he manipulates an entire orphanage into killing each other, or driving someone to suicide, Johan more than lives up to his moniker.

Lucifer Morningstar (The Sandman)

I've found that a lot of the times, the line between an anti-hero and a villain-protagonist tend to get blurred (most of the time, its all a matter of perspective) and who better to illustrate this point than the devil himself? Lucifer is not pure evil and he helps save creation a few times, but at the same time he also has no qualms screwing people over in order to achieve his goals. Easily my favorite depiction of the devil in modern media. Well done, Neil Gaiman and Mike Carey.

Simeon Nevzorov (Ibicus)

Another anti-hero and although operating on a much smaller scale than the guy above him, just as compelling. I always have a great time following Simeon on his many misadventures throughout a Russia thorn apart by civil war, and later Turkey.

Krapal (District 14)

Among its gallery of interesting characters, District 14 sports quite a few memorable villains, such as Tiger-Man and Bollart the Stag. My favorite member of the comic's rouges-gallery, however, is Krapal the Toad. Not only is he easily the smartest villain (and perhaps character) in the comic, he also goes about his criminal activities with a certain sense of style, which makes it hard for me not to root for him on occasion, especially in the second season. In addition, his henchmen are all fun and likable as well. Whenever season 3 comes out, I look forward to see more of this guy and whatever nefarious scheme he will come up with next.

Askeladd (Vinland Saga)

If Johan is the scariest manga-villain I can think of, than Askeladd is arguably the coolest. Machiavellian, mysterious (he has a great backstory) and with an interesting relationship with the main character, Askeladd remains one of Vinland Saga's most memorable and intriguing characters.

The Phantom Blot (Disney Comics)

The very first moment I encountered The Phantom Blot, I was intrigued. This guy just had an aura of mystery and a sense of genuine menace to him that was lacking in the other Disney comic villains I had known up until that point. Needless to say he made a huge impression on me, which was further helped by him having a very simple, yet striking design. Since then I've read hundreds of comics featuring The Blot and while not all of them do the character justice (then again, the same thing can be said about any re-occurring villain written by many different writers during the course of several decades), he will always remain one of my favorite villains and Mickey's greatest arch-enemy.

Lincoln Red Crow (Scalped)

In an interview I read with him, Jason Aaron said that Chief Red Crow came about from his wish to create his own Al Swearengen and there are definitely similarities between the two men: Both of them starting out as fairly typical (albeit very well-written and, in one case, well-acted) villains; powerful men who run their little kingdoms with corruption and violence and eventually becoming the most nuanced characters in their respective works, far outshining the ostensible main character. I have not yet finished Scalped, but I've seen enough of Red Crow to know that he's a fantastic character and am interested to see how his story ends.

Pompeii (Duncan the Wonder-Dog)

Duncan the Wonder-Dog by Adam Hines is a comic that takes place in a world that's pretty much our own, with the exception that animals can speak human languages. One of its central characters is Pompeii, a female macaque who also happens to be the current leader of the terrorist group ORAPOST. As a character, Pompeii does not bring to mind any other female villain I can think of, as much as Tommy DeVito. Much like Joe Pesci's character in Goodfellas, Pompeii is prone to sudden outbursts of savage and explosive violence, making her an intense and frightening villain. In addition, her rants and monologues are among the best I've read in a comic.
 As the years go by, it seems more and more unlikely that we'll ever get another volume of Duncan. Hopefully, Hines will prove me wrong, because I really want to see more of his characters and especially of Pompeii.

Rasputin (Corto Maltese)

Some of my favorite type of villains are those that serves as a dark reflection of the hero and Rasputin is one of my favorite examples of this trope: Like his best friend/archenemy, Corto Maltese, Rasputin is a globe-trotter and adventurer, but that's where the similarities end. Whereas Corto is, at his core, a romantic, Rasputin is a cynic who cares only about filling his belly and lining his pockets. He also has no qualms about murder; killing with worrying ease (again unlike Corto, who only kills in self-defense). The relationship between these two are among the most interesting aspects of the comic. In addition, Rasputin is also the funniest villain on this list, with many of Corto Maltese's more comedic moments involving him in some capacity.

Zelie (Beautiful Darkness)

If there's any character on this lists that truly embodies the phrase "love to hate", its Zelie. She made me hate her in the best possible way and her comeuppance at the end was both richly deserved and oh-so satisfying.

Chapter 20

Like all the great cities that is and eventually will be, the capital of Vinoli never truly slept. When the sun had relinquished its duties to the moon, the night-watchmen put on their boots and uniform and went on patrol, hard-working burglars kissed their spouses on the cheek and crept out into the night and special taverns that catered to a more nocturnal clientele opened their doors. In the palace, with the exception of those guards who had been assigned the night-shift,  most of the inhabitants were already asleep; from the most exalted courtier, to the lowliest scullion, they all laid in their beds dreaming dreams of love, of wealth, of power and whatever else that they longed for. After a long day of governing the country, the Queen of Vinoli had decided to retire for the night. Having slipped out of the ornate dress she had been wearing all day, Argath was currently admiring her reflection in a mirror, while one of her maids put a silk dressing gown around her shoulders.

"The wine and the fruit is on the table over there", the maid said, her eyes downcast. "Um...", she hesitated, biting her lip. "Is there anything more that Your Majesty require of me tonight?"

Argath shook her head.

"No", "We wish to be alone. You may go."

The maid bowed.

"As you wish. Goodnight, Your Majesty."

Argath did not answer, having already dismissed the maid from her mind. As far as she was concerned, she was already alone in the room.

Hanging on one of the walls was a picture painted many years ago, depicting the Queen when she was a child, together with her late brother Argeron. If a person were to study that portrait, they would find only a vague resemblance between the cheerfully smiling, bright-eyed girl in it and the Queen as she now appeared.

Back when Argeron was alive, the painting had hung in the palace's gallery. After his unfortunate demise, however, his sister had it taken down and put up in her own room. When she relocated to the royal suite, she took the picture with her. In the past, whenever she felt her resolve falter and long dormant feelings of tenderness towards her father and other siblings would begin to awaken within her, Argath would look at that picture and she'd remember: Remember her brother's demise and the people who, in her mind, were truly responsible for it. Then, her heart would harden and her mind would become polluted by murderous thoughts.

Now that her vengeance had been carried out, however, all the queen felt as she looked at it, was a sense of deep loss. This bothered her and so, she turned away from the painting, annoyed with herself. There was no longer any point in dwelling on the past, she needed to focus on the future. Yes, the future of her kingdom. No, not kingdom: Empire.

Tomorrow, I'm having that painting taken down, the Queen thought to herself. Sorry, brother, do not think less of me for doing so, wherever you are.

Having made that decision, the Queen went over to the table and poured herself some wine. She raised the jewel-encrusted goblet to her nose and after a sniff and a nod of approval, drank a mouthful, then put it down again. Noticing that it had gotten a bit chilly in the room, she decided to light a fire. Crouching down by the fireplace, she breathed on the logs and soon, the room was filled with the warmth of an open fire. She then helped herself to more of the contents of the bottle.
Eventually, the combined heat from the fire and the wine she had been drinking, overwhelmed the queen's senses and she fell asleep in her chair, a string of saliva forming in the corner of her mouth.

The Queen had not slept long before she sat up straight, eyes open. She had felt something brush against her face.
She looked around the room and saw someone standing in a corner: A tall, diffuse figure, wearing a cloak the color of smoke.

"Who are you?" She said, summoning all the authority she could muster. "How dare you enter my chamber? Answer, before I call the guards."

The figure did not reply. Instead, it reached up and lowered the hood that had obscured its features. Upon seeing her unbidden visitor's face, Argath involuntarily took a few steps backwards and tripped on her tail.

As she got up from the floor, the Queen stared at the person in front of her, hardly able to believe her
own eyes.

"No", she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "This isn't possible. You are dead. Dead!"

"True and yet, here I am.

Hearing that voice, which she thought she had silenced forever, caused a shiver to run down Argath's spine.

"I do not believe in ghosts", she said, barely managing to keep her voice steady.

"Who's to say I'm a ghost? For all you know, I could simply be a product of your imagination."

Argath's gaze wandered to the wine-bottle and seeing that there was still some left, she re-filled the goblet and raised it to her lips.

"Is that why you have appeared before me, father?" She asked, feeling emboldened by the alcohol. "To make me question my grip on reality?"

"I have a question for you, my daughter. It concerns your brother."

"If I answer the question, will you leave me in peace? No matter what you are?"

King Sharan nodded.

"Very well", the Queen said with a resigned sigh. "Let us get this over with, I want to go back to sleep."

At that moment, she was struck by a thought: What if she already was asleep and she had merely dreamed that she woke up? She didn't have time to ponder this theory further though, because the next second, her sire spoke to her again.

"Here is my question: What do you think would have happened, had things turned out different?"

"Different in what way? You mean with my brother?"

"Exactly. What if he had lived and inherited my crown, as I had intended. What role would you have served in his kingdom?"

Argath's heart began to beat faster, this was a question she had pondered from time to time and she had always ended up with the same answer.

"Simple", she said. "I would have been his most trusted confidant, his right hand. Together, we would have made Vinoli into the foremost nation in the world."

King Sharan looked at his daughter skeptically.

"Is that so? I must confess, I have a hard time seeing it. After all, Argeron possessed many fine qualities, but I can't say that ambition was one of them."

"Mine would have been enough for us both, he would have followed my advice."

The King shook his head.

"Most of it, yes, but deep down you know that any plans for conquest you'd have proposed, would have been firmly rejected. Argeron might have been the kindest member of our family, but he was not weak-willed."

Though she did it with reluctance, Argath had to admit that her father had a point.

For a brief period of time, neither of them said a word. They just stood there, looking at each other: Parent and child. Living and dead. Murderer and victim. King Sharan was the first to speak:

"Ultimately, your brother would have had the last word in all affairs of state. How long before your affection for him would have turned to frustration and resentment, I wonder?"

"How dare you?" Argath hissed. "That would never have happened. I loved my brother more than any other member of this family. When I heard off his death, I felt as if a part of me had died with him."

"I know very well that your grief was real. No-one, including me, felt the loss of the Crown-Prince, more deeply than you. However, underneath all the grief, there was another feeling, wasn't there?"

"Oh? And what feeling could that be? Enlighten me, father, since death have obviously granteed you the ability to gaze into the depths of my very soul."

During their conversation, King Sharan's face had been impassive. Now, something resembling a smile spread across it. He said one word:

"Relief."

Argath felt the blood rush to her head. She grabbed the nearest available object, the wine-bottle and with a roar, hurled it at the king. It smashed against the wall, breaking into a million pieces, the remainder of its content staining the wall.

The Queen looked around, she was all alone in the room. Had it all been a dream, after all? She pinched herself hard in the arm and winced. The pain was real enough. Then she heard a voice inside her head, faint like a whisper.

"Farewell, daughter. We shall meet again, in your nightmares."

There was a knock on the door and then, a male voice called out:

"Your Majesty,is everything alright? We heard screams."

Argath, who had been staring at the broken glass, tore her eyes from the sight and went and opened the door. Two guards stood outside.

"Fetch Us the royal physician", she ordered, "and a servant to clean up this mess. Now!"

As the guards hurried away, Argath raised her hand and clenched it into a fist

Just you wait old man, she thought. Ghost or not; I buried you before and I shall bury you again.

Thoughts on An American Tragedy

Four-hundred pages into Theodore Dreiser's novel, An American Tragedy, I realized with a sort of dread that I wasn't even half-way through the damn thing yet.

Look, I'm an avid reader and I certainly have nothing against a so-called "door-stopper" every now and then. However, the difference between An American Tragedy and, say, Anna Karenina is that Tolstoy's novel never felt long. I think a big reason why An American Tragedy does is the fact that Dreiser's prose frankly, isn't very good. In fact, I'd even daresay that my own prose is better (and that's not something you'll hear me say often in regards to professionally published authors) and its become more and more noticeable the further into the book I've progressed

"Wait", you protest. "There must be something worthwhile about this book? Otherwise, why would you have read so many pages of it already?"
You're absolutely correct, dear reader. I can, in fact, point to two positive things about this book: First of all, the main character, Clyde Griffiths, with his flaws and weaknesses, is portrayed well. Secondly, the central premise of the novel isn't bad, someone like Flannery O'Connor would have made a great novella out of it.
That said, its not really a story that needed over 800 pages to be told and quite frankly, there are other books more worthy of my time (and yours).

A Brief Rant Concerning The Gem Show

Its never pleasant having to write something negative about a thing that you enjoy, but nevertheless, there are times when it must be done.
Steven Universe, created by Rebecca Sugar, is a show that I have a deep fondness for, and is there any wonder why? In addition to being creative and imaginative, the show also boasts engaging characters, fascinating lore and some really excellent songs. However, recently, I must confess that I've started to be a tad frustrated by the show. More precisely, what frustrates me is the rather staggering amount of so-called filler; that is, episodes that are mostly inconsequential and do not further the plot in any way.

The latest episode, Room For Ruby is a good (or not) example of what I mean. Yes, I enjoyed the character of Navy and how devious she turned out to be, but in the end, I can't help but wonder what this episode accomplished in the grand scheme of things. Is the fact that the characters no longer have access to a spaceship going to be important down the line? One should hope so, otherwise, I can't help but wonder what the purpose behind the episode was.

Do not get the wrong idea, I have nothing against the more small-scale, character-focused episodes per se, but at this point, we already know the characters well enough. I want to find out more about Homeworld, about the diamonds, about the circumstances that led up to Rose Quartz's rebellion. How Pearl joined up with Rose and so forth. The show is at its fourth season; its high time that it gained some momentum and started to give us answers to some of these questions, instead of meandering about. Otherwise, I fear that the show may end up like Adventure Time and that is not something I wish to happen.

Chapter 19

From the journal of Nasari:

I write these words with a feeling of guilt inside me. Yesterday, I did something that I never thought I would do, not even in my wildest dreams. I guess this shows how little a person truly knows about herself. What did I do? Simple, I was unfaithful to my husband, the father of my children. I have not made up my mind as to whether or not I should tell Jeraddin about this; I fear that it would break his heart and he, in no way, deserve that. Still, I feel that I need to confess my wrongdoing somehow and this journal will be as good a confessor as any. 
By the time I'm writing this, I have been part of the Queen's personal retinue for some time. Beside myself, there are nine other women whom have the same position. All of them are young and, I must admit, very pretty. 

I am unique in our group for two reasons. First of all, I am by quite a margin the oldest one here, with none of the others having reached the age of thirty and the youngest one not having celebrated her twentieth birthday. The second reason is that I am the only married woman here. I do not know what the Queen has given as a reason for why the wife of her General should live separate from her husband, if she even thinks that's something anyone should know. 

At the very least, no-one except for the Queen and myself is aware of the truth; that I am a hostage, kept close in order to make sure that my husband obeys the Queen's command and does not get tempted to divulge the truth about the old King's death. Jeraddin knows that Lorenzo, the queen's fox have spies and informants everywhere and if he were to tell anyone, words would reach the palace and my life would be forfeit.

I will give credit where credit is  due; if the Queen has any particular favorite among us, she doesn't show this openly. That's not to say that the atmosphere here is particularly pleasant. As a mistress, the Queen is unpredictable and capricious: When she's in a good mood, or satisfied, its not uncommon that she rewards the person who has won her favor with small gifts, such as a fine ring or candy. However, if the Queen is in a dark mood or someone does something to displease her, she is quick to mete out punishment. Said punishments vary depending on the Queen's whims, ranging from beatings to being forced to go without food for a day. Was she like this when she was still just a Princess? I can not say.

I wish I could tell you that I felt some sort of kinship with my so-called colleagues, but the truth is, I don't. On the contrary, I don't care for them and I'm certain that the feeling is mutual. To every rule there is an exception, though and in this case, I met said exception upon my first day in the palace. I had noticed that a painting of Carazzio, one of my favorite painters were hanging on the wall and so, I stopped for a moment to study it.

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice that you were admiring this painting. I think its beautiful, don't you?"

I had been so absorbed in Carazzio's masterpiece that it took a few seconds before I registered that someone was talking to me. Turning around, I noticed a young female raccoon standing before me. From her clothing; a white blouse with an unbuttoned collar and a black skirt that ended just above her knees, I gathered that she was one of the Queen's handmaidens.

"Yes", I agreed. "Its truly a magnificent work of art."

"My name is Miranda", the raccoon presented herself. 

"Pleased to meet you", I replied. "I am Nasari."

Miranda smiled.

"I know, you are General Jeraddin's wife, right? Is your husband here too?" She asked, looking around, as if expecting Jeraddin to appear around a corner.

I shook my head.

"No, I am hear my own. Due to certain circumstances, this is to be my home from now on."

"Oh? May I ask what you'll be doing here, my lady?"

"Certainly and there's no need for you to call me 'lady'. After all, we are about to become colleagues.

From the expression on my new acquaintance's face, I could tell that she had not been prepared for this. 

"Really?" She asked, tilting her head to one side. "Don't get me wrong, you certainly have the looks of a handmaiden, but usually its not a position open to married women."

"I know that, but I am a special exception and I can assure you that I won't be required to do anything that breaks my vows."

"You're still going need a uniform though. Come with me and we'll see if we can find one in your size."

*****

That's how I met Miranda. We immediately took a liking to each other and soon became the closest of friends.  I am now going to skip ahead in time to the day before today. Earlier, I wrote that the Queen's in the habit of doling out gifts or punishments depending on her whim. I have never received a gift from her and if I did, I'd get rid of it when I could be sure that no-one was watching, but I had also been fortunate, or careful, enough to not incur her wrath in any way. Until yesterday, that is.

The Queen had an hour of spare time and so, she ordered a servant girl, who possesses some musical talent to play something for her. While we all gathered to listen to the music, the Queen  ordered her jewel-adorned slippers  to be removed, to let her feet be aired.

"Our toenails are in need of trimming" she observed and then, turned to me. "Nasari, fetch the nail clippers. You shall be granted the honor of performing this duty."

With dismay written all over my face, I rose and fetched the appropriate tool; a pair of nail clippers that were made to cut dragon claws and thus, were sharper then usual.  With these in my paws, I knelt in front of the Queen and went about my job with the utmost reluctance. Meanwhile, the Queen signaled for the music to continue. The Melodies that the servant-girl weaved on the lute, soon made me quite forget the disagreeable task in which I was currently engaged, when suddenly, I heard  the Queen's voice cry out in pain.

The Music stopped. All eyes turned towards me. Looking at the Queen's foot, I could see blood pouring out from a wound and realized that I had cut into the toe itself.

"You clumsy trollop!" The Queen growled at me. "Can you not pay attention to..." She stopped and her eyes became like two slits. "You did it on purpose" she said, through clenched teeth.

"Your Majesty" I said, "I swear that I was merely distracted by the music"

"Be Quiet!" The Queen cut me of. "Do not contradict Us."

She stood up, towering over me, her face was terrible to behold. 

"Normally" she began. "Willful cause of bodily harm to Our Royal person would lead to the loss of your head. However, since you are the spouse of our General Jeraddin, We shall show mercy. Guards!"

Immediately, two guards, who had been waiting outside rushed in. The Queen pointed at me.

"Seize her!"

The Guards did as they were told and I felt a pair of strong, heavy paws grab me by the shoulders. Meanwhile, the Queen turned to two of the chamber-maids; a lizard and a moongoose, neither of which is a friend of mine.

"You" she said, pointing at the moongoose. "Remove her garments, but be sure not to tear them, if you do, its coming out of your pay. As for you...go fetch me the castigator.

I could feel my heart sink. The Castigator is a tool I have seen the Queen use before to punish her chamber-maids. It is a long, wooden paddle of the type used by parents to discipline unruly children. The Difference between the castigator and its more common brethren is that merely one side of it is flat; the other is covered by small pieces of metal, all of them sharp enough to draw blood. So far, I had only viewed this awful tool from a distance, but now it seemed that I was about to become intimately familiar with it. 

No! I chastised myself. Do not shed tears, before the punishment has begun. They will think you are afraid, do not give them the satisfaction.

The Lizard returned with the castigator and presented it to Argath. The Queen took it and approached my exposed backside. I shut my eyes, waiting for the punishment to begin.

"On second thought" she said, "Our shoulder is bothering Us somewhat. Miranda, you shall carry out the punishment in our stead."

Turning my head slightly, I could see the look of horror on my friend's face.

"Your Majesty" she pleaded, throwing herself in front of the Queen, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Do not make me do this, I beg of you."

"Do as We command" the Queen said, unrelentingly. "Or you shall take her place, though your punishment will be twice as severe."

Hanging her head, Miranda stood up and took the castigator. 

"Forty strokes on each cheek" the Queen commanded. "Oh, and Miranda? Use the teethed side."

It is not that I am unfamiliar with the concept of corporal punishment. As a young girl, when I misbehaved, my parents would put me over their knees and warm my bottom and when I became a mother myself, I did on one occasion spank my eldest, when she had behaved in a way that I found completely unacceptable. I shall also mention that, in the nuptial bed, my husband and I have sometimes taken turns spanking each other, as foreplay. Something which I must confess,  has brought us no small amount of pleasure.

However, while I usually accepted the punishment inflicted on me by my parents, it was because I knew deep down that they would never spank me, unless I gave them good reason too.This though, was different. To be punished like this, for an accident and by the command of a person whom I knew to be the most heinous of  villains; a patricide and a regicide both, the injustice of it all stung almost worse than the physical pain. 

Not that the physical pain was anything to sneeze at. As the castigator bit into my rear end, I screamed louder than I have ever done before.

After what felt like an eternity, the beatings stopped. The lizard and the mongoose let go of my arms and I dropped to the floor. The Queen loomed over me, I could hear her voice, but it sounded as if it came from far away.

"Good. Let us leave this room, I need the doctor to administer to my injuries."

As soon as I was alone, I made an effort to stand up. My legs carried me as far as to a nearby couch, there I collapsed. 
As I laid there, my face buried in one of the cushions and my rear-end feeling as if it was on fire, I felt a relief knowing that I was the Queen's hostage and not my daughter, as that tyrant had originally wanted. 

I could hear the door opening, followed by the sound of soft footsteps. I looked up and saw that Miranda had returned, she was carrying a small jar. Without a word, she took of the lid and dipped one of her paws into the jar.  When she took it out it was covered in a white salve. She proceeded to apply the cool ointment to my bruises. It stung at first, but as Miranda kept massaging my abused buttocks, a feeling of intense pleasure began to spread throughout my person, causing me to purr loudly.

"Do you feel better now?" Miranda asked once she had finished.

"Much better", I said. "Thank you."

Propping myself up on my elbows, I looked at Miranda and saw that her tears were red from crying.

"Nasari, I'm so sorry", she said. "I didn't want to.."

"I know", I said, hugging her. "Don't worry about it."

Then, to my surprise, she kissed me.

I know what I should have done then and there. I should have pushed Miranda away and with a shocked expression on my face left the room. I did no such thing. Instead, I returned her kiss, pressing my own lips against hers.

Why did I take this cause of action? 

Perhaps it was that at the moment I felt a desperate need for affection? Jeraddin wasn't there; at the time I'm writing this I haven't seen him since the coronation and Miranda was. Maybe the recent events have created a gap between me and my husband that can never be truly repaired? Or perhaps, there exist in all of us, male or female, the desire, no matter how deep its buried, a desire to be intimate with someone of our own gender, at least once? 
After all, Miranda is my only friend here and as I mentioned, all the Queen's maids are very pretty. 

At the time, none of that mattered to me, nor did I feel any guilt or shame (that came later). All I could think of was how good Miranda tasted and the new world that was opened up to me in that moment. 

I did not even protest when Miranda slid a paw under my blouse and touched my breast, her fingers teasing my nipple to turn into a rock.

At night, I had a dream. I was with Jeraddin, we were floating together in a void, both of us naked, our bodies pressed together. In the dream, I reached down to lovingly caress Jeraddin's erection, when to my shock I noticed that the hard phallus I had expected to get into my hand, had turned into something soft. Opening my eyes in the dream, I saw to my surprise that my husband had been replaced by none other than Miranda.

I woke up and was unable to go back to sleep after that.

Chapter 18

"My friends", said Dr. Hieronymus, while standing up. "Its with great pleasure that I bid you - all of you - welcome to my home. I want you to know that my doors will be open to you for as long as you wish, I do not lack space and its always nice to have some company." He paused and looked affectionately at Amelia, who was seated next to Leorin. "I'm sure that you agree, Ame; it must be nice to have some people closer to your own age in the house, instead of having to make do with your dusty old uncle. Anyway, I won't bore you with any long speech. "Cheers!"

With an elegant gesture, the platypus raised the glass to his beak and allowed its content of white wine to run down his throat.

The others followed his example, though the doctor, Merees and Risha were the only ones who drank wine. The glasses of Amelia, Leorin and Luke were filled with juice made from the fruits of the island. The meal, which stood on the table consisted of a pasta with a salmon sauce, which could make one's mouth water merely by catching a whiff of its smell, accompanied by bread and a green salad with small tomatoes.

Everyone ate heartily and the sound of food being chewed and glasses being drained and filled up, were mixed with the sound of the doctor's voice, as he entertained his guests with stories from the travels he had made when he was younger and before he had returned to this island, the place of his birth and using his hard-earned fortune, had bought the house in whose dining room they were now gathered.

"My mother used to wash the linen for the family who owned this house before me", Hieronymus said. "It had always been my dream to one day return and buy the house from them and, as you can see, I made that dream a reality."

"What happened to the family?" Risha asked.

"Oh they moved away somewhere. They had fallen on hard times and had no choice but to accept my offer for the house and garden. It was quite a generous amount too."

At that moment, the conversation was interrupted by someone knocking loudly and insistently on the front door. The knocks were accompanied by a female voice calling for the doctor.

"Who could that be?" Hieronymus wondered. He stood up and wiped away some sauce from the corner of his beak.

"I'll get it!" Amelia called out excitedly. She jumped out of her chair and was gone in the blink of an eye. Her uncle followed her, but he had not even made it out of the dining room before Amelia returned, this time in the company of a red-haired vixen, wearing an apron.

"You must come quickly, doctor" the vixen pleaded, clasping her paws. "A fight broke out between two of our customers, one of them had a knife and..."
Before she could finish the sentence, Hieronymus interrupted her:

"Amelia, fetch my medicine-bag. Its in my office. Hurry!"

With the seemingly boundless energy of youth, Amelia ran away to fetch the requested object. Clutching his medicine-bag, Hieronymus followed the vixen out into the evening. Amelia looked after them and then turned and headed back to the dining room.

When she returned, the others asked her what had happened.

"Oh, it seems like someone got hurt in a fight at the local bar", she said nonchalantly, while stabbing a piece of salmon on her fork.

"Was it serious?" Merees wondered.

"Nothing that my uncle can't fix. By the way, you don't have to stop eating because he's not here. You can never know when he gets called away or how long he'll be gone."

"That's good to know", Luke said, "because I'm still hungry." He backed up the statement by shoveling a large amount of food into his mouth.

After awhile the food was gone, save for the doctor's portion, which Amelia put an empty plate over, to keep it warm. They all leaned back with full, round bellies and eyes that could barely stay open.

"By the way", Leorin asked, while stifling a yawn. "Whose turn is it to do the dishes?"

"No idea", his sister replied. "I just hope its not me."

"It should be you", Merees said jokingly. "Seeing as how you've been loafing around in bed for so long."

"I know", said Amelia. "Why don't we vote? Anyone who thinks Risha should do the dishes, raise a paw. Or claw", she added, with a look at the princess.

The motion was carried nigh unanimously, with only one vote against. Risha turned to her brother and shook her head, while making a tutting sound.

"Even my own brother is against me", she said. "Oh, that hurts."

"Sorry, sis", Leorin apologized with a shrug. "I just really don't want to do the dishes today."

The lynx paid him no heed, she stood up and supporting herself on the table, she rose her left paw to her brow in a theatrical fashion.

"Betrayed by my own flesh and blood", she wailed. "Woe is me. How sharper than a serpent's tooth, etc, etc..."

Leorin rolled his eyes.

"Drama queen."

"Fine", Risha said with a resigned gesture. "I'll do the dishes, but one of you are going to help me dry them."

******

"Amelia, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure", Amelia replied, taking the warm, dripping wet plate that Risha handed to her and drying it of with a towel.

"Its a pretty personal one", Risha continued, as she once again plunged her arms into the dish-water. "So, if you don't want to answer it, I understand."

"That's fine, ask away."

"The Doctor....is he your real uncle?"

Amelia shook her head.

"Nope, but he was a very close friend to my parents and I've known him since I was born, so I think of him as an uncle."

"I see."

Risha decided not to breach the subject further, but she couldn't help but notice that Amelia had referred to her parents in the past tense.

In a way, I suppose this place is like some sort of orphanage, she thought to herself, as she kept scrubbing on a fork. Well, Leorin and I aren't technically orphans, but we might as well be. Merees has lost her father and as for Luke? Well, I don't know anything about him. I should probably ask him, when I get the chance.

When the dishes were done, Amelia jumped down from the chair she had been standing on.

"I'm going to find the guys and see if they want to play hide-and-seek", she said. "Do you want to come?"

"No, I think I want to take it easy."

"OK, see you later" and with those parting words, the otter girl rushed out of the room.
As for Risha, she decided that she was in the mood for something to read. Earlier that day, while showing her around the house, the doctor had made halt outside of a door which had the word LIBRARY written on it, in golden letters.

"I heard that you like to read. Feel free to make use of my modest collection of books, whenever you want", he had said.

At the time, she had thanked him and the tour had continued. Now, it was time to take the Doctor up on his offer. Remembering where the library was, she went there, opened the door and stepped inside.

The first thing she noticed upon entering the library was a painting, a portrait made in oil, hanging on the wall. The portrait depicted two otters, one male and one female. The female was seated in a chair, holding a book, while the male stood behind her, his left paw resting on her shoulder.

These two must be Amelia's parents. I wonder who the artist is? Could it be?

Risha leaned closer to the painting. There, hidden in the right corner, almost impossible to notice, was the Doctor's name.

I thought so. 

Having finished studying the portrait, Risha began to look around the bookcases, which  lined the rest of the library walls. In his lifetime, Dr. Hieronymus had managed to build up quite a collection of books of all sorts; there were books of fiction and non-fiction, books intended for children and books that were meant for adult eyes only (these were on the top-shelf). There were novels, collections of short-stories, poems, essays, books that were part of a series and books that were stand-alone. Risha's eyes swept over the shelves, until they came to rest on a title which had caught her attention:

"The Ghost of Grenge Hall: A Timothy Sparrow Adventure", she read out-loud. Sounds interesting.
She took the volume from its shelf and looked at the cover, it showed the titular hero looking up at a cloaked figure, posing sinisterly on the top of a hill. All of this was rendered in striking red - and - black.

Intrigued, Risha opened the book and stared at the page in surprise; this was unlike any other book she had ever seen before: It was somewhat similar to a picture-book, but instead of the pictures serving as illustrations to the story, here the pictures were the story and you had to look at them in sequence, in order to grasp the plot. Above the head of the characters hovered white bubbles, which contained their dialogue.

Excited over having discovered something she had never seen before, Risha took the book under her arm and went out to the veranda. There, she parked herself on the couch and under the warm glow of a lantern, began to read. Soon, she was completely absorbed in the story and thus, its no wonder that she failed to notice that someone else had appeared on the veranda. It was only when that someone sat down next to her and addressed her that she became aware of their presence:

"Sorry", Risha said, looking away from the book. "I wasn't paying attention, what did you say?"
"I was only asking if the book was any good", Merees replied.

"Yeah, its pretty good."

"Mind if I sit down?"

"Be my guest".

Risha scooted over and Merees sat down. As she looked at the dragoness next to her, the lynx realized that now was the perfect opportunity to confess her feelings.

"Princess" she begun, closing the book.

"What is it?"

Risha took a deep breath and looked Merees in the eyes.

"I really like you" she blurted out.

"I like you too" Merees replied, squeezing Risha's paw.

Risha shook her head.

"No, I meant that I Like you" she said, putting special emphasis on the word like. "I want us to be more than just friends."

"That's what I meant too."

"Of course, if you aren't into girls that way, I completely understand" Risha continued, hurriedly. Then, she paused, realizing what Merees had just said.

"You mean you..." Risha began, but for some reason her tongue seemed to have been tied into a knot. Merees nodded in affirmation.

"Since when?" The lynx finally managed to ask.

"Since we first met" the dragon answered.

"Than, why didn't you tell me?"

Merees let out a sigh.

"Fear of rejection, I'm afraid. I suspected that you and I were the same, but I couldn't be sure, so I decided to let you take the initiative. I'm sorry, it was craven of me, I know."

"Its fine, one of us had to be the first one. I'm just so happy that you feel the same way for me."

The two of them leaned closer towards each other, their lips were just about to touch, when suddenly a small shape appeared on the veranda and with lightning speed, ducked under the couch. Vexed, Risha stood up and crouched down in order to see who - or -what, had caused this interruption.

"Psst" Leorin said. "Don't let Luke know that I'm here."

"Its my brother" Risha explained, as she sat down again. "Stupid kid" she muttered, crossing her arms. "Why did he have to pick this as his hiding spot, of all places?"

"His timing could be better" Merees agreed. "Though in all fairness, there was no way he could have known."

"Yeah, you're right" Risha conceded. "Still, he's kind of killed the mood. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, we can just sit like this for awhile."

And so they did, with Merees wrapping her arm around Risha and the lynx resting her head on the dragon's shoulder. If anyone had seen them at this moment, he or she would have found them the very picture of serenity. After awhile, Merees spoke up:

"By the way, there's this place on the island I've been dying to show you. If you want, we could go there tomorrow."

There was no answer. Surprised, Merees looked at Risha and realized that she was sleeping. The calmness of their surroundings and the sound of the lynx's breathing had a hypnotic effect on the Princess. She felt her eyelids grow heavier and heavier, until she could no longer keep them open.

Chapter 17

When captain Cerewan returned to Vinoli, he was in a foul mood. The last few days had truly been some of the worst the captain had experienced in a long time; starting by the day when he had woken up only to discover that the passengers had disappeared from the ship, taking the cabin boy with them. As if that had not been enough, the scoundrels had practically emptied out the ship's supplies. It was evident to the captain that Luke had told the passengers what had happened to those who had traveled aboard captain Cerewan's ship before. Of all the ungrateful traitors in the world!
All day, the captain's mind had been filled with murderous thoughts, concerning what he would do to the squirrel, if he ever had him in his grasp.

Even worse, was the fact that the crew had grown discontent. Many of them had not been paid for quite some time and so, they had counted on this latest catch to be their meal-ticket. Now, however, with the catch gone, they had grown sullen and could often be found gathered in groups, whispering to each other.
For the first time in his life, Cerewan felt the fear of a mutiny take hold on him. In order to prevent this, he ordered the crew to gather on deck.

"Men, listen..." He began, but for once, the crew paid no heed to their commander's words.

"What about our money?!" One of them shouted. "When will we get it?!"

The speaker then began stomping his wooden leg, while shouting:

"We want our money!" "We want our money!"

The call spread like a wildfire and soon, every member of the crew was stomping and shouting the same phrase, over and over. Then, someone shouted the words that the tiger had feared the most:

"Hey! Why don't we chose a new captain?"

"Good idea!" Agreed another crew-member. "Someone who doesn't try to cheat honest, hardworking sailors!"

"Let's get him!" A third sailor shouted.

Captain Cerewan, fearing in that moment for his life, pulled out his gun and fired a warning-shot in the air. The noise caused the crew to stop dead in its tracks.

"The first one of you who puts a foot on these steps", growled the captain. "Will be filled with lead."

"You can't shoot us all!" Shouted the sailor, who had first suggested that they should have a new captain. "Come on, boys! Let's get him!"

With a defiant look in his eyes and a knife in his paw, he put his right foot on the step. The next second, a bullet from the captain's gun had pierced his heart.

The crew stared at the corpse of their comrade, too stunned to do anything; never before had one of their own been killed in this way. Some of them looked at the captain with fear in their eyes.
Cerewan saw that fear and found it pleasing.
However, he realized that there was a chance that said fear could turn back into rage at the drop of a hat and the dead man had not been wrong; he would run out of bullets eventually and besides, there was a risk that one of them would rush him while he was reloading the gun. No, he had to win the crew back on his side and he had to do it now.

"Why take out your anger at me?" He asked in a harsh voice. "Its not I who have deprived you of your - our - prize, but your treacherous shipmate, Luke. He is the one responsible for this unfortunate business. Now, I ask you: Shall we let him get away with that?!"

"Nay!" The crew shouted angrily.

"Listen", Cerewan continued. "Neither Luke nor any of the others are experienced sailors and all they have is one life-boat. After we've replenished our stores, we'll go after them, they can't have gotten far. Now, are you with me? Am I still your Captain?"
"Aye!"
The tiger allowed himself to relax, mentally congratulating himself on his deft handling of the situation. As he stepped down on deck, the satisfied smile on Cerewan's face vanished, as suddenly as it had appeared.

"But first, we shall hold a funeral service for our fallen shipmate. I did not wish his death, but it was him or me."

The crew nodded in understanding, though some of them regarded their captain with wary eyes.
Having commended the dead sailor to the waves and replenished their stores, the ship set sail and the crew, now placated, worked hard; eager to catch up with the lifeboat. Soon, the sound of old sea-shanties filled the air.
Then, the storm came upon them...

When it was over, two sailors had been swallowed up by the ocean. Cerewan gave the order to repair any damages. As he stood on deck, he suddenly noticed something floating in the water. Curious, he called for a nearby sailor.

"Yes, Cap'n?"

"See that thing in the water? Fetch a boat hook and retrieve it."

The command was carried out and soon, the Captain and some of the crew were gathered around the object, which turned out to be a waterskin.
"How did this end up here?" One sea-dog wondered.

"It looks mighty familiar to me". mused another. He bent down to study it closer; as he did, an oath escaped his lips.

"What is it?" The others sailors wondered.

"Look at this, it has our ship's mark on it. Its one of ours."

Under his striped fur, Cerewan went pale. This could only mean one thing; namely, that Luke and the three others had perished in the storm. After all, what hope could they possibly have had of survival? Four people, none of them experienced sailors, left to the mercy of the elements. For all he knew, none of them were even able to swim. This fact started to dawn on the crew as well and once again, they faced their captain with murder in their eyes.

*******

In the end, captain Cerewan had managed to avert a mutiny once more, though it had cost him dearly. Not only had he been forced to pay the crew out of his savings, but they had also managed to squeeze an extra day's shore-leave from him. With all that in mind, it was understandable that the tiger was not in the sunniest of moods, when the ship returned to Vinoli. Once back home, Cerewan went straight to his favorite watering-hole, ordered a rum and sat at the bar, pouring his sorrows into the sympathetic ear of the armadillo behind the bar.

On the bar stool next to Cerewan sat a young vole, who seemed more interest in the book he was reading then the drink in front of him. Occasionally, he would turn a page, showing no sign of paying attention to the captain's alcohol-induced ramblings. Eventually, the vole paid and left, leaving his drink almost completely untouched. Seizing the opportunity, Cerewan grabbed the drink and swept it.

Much later, Cerewan left the inn on unsteady legs. He was heading back to the ship when, suddenly, the drinks he had consumed were filled with an intense desire to evacuate the system. Holding one paw over his mouth, the tiger stumbled into a nearby alley. Soon, the combined stench of vomit and urine filled the air.
As he stood there, shaking of the last few drops, Cerewan caught the sound of footsteps coming up behind him. In his state, he did not have time to react, before his vision was completely obscured by a sack. Then, someone hit him on the back of his head and he collapsed.

When Cerewan woke up he found himself tied to a chair in a dimly lit room. Grunting, he tried to break the ropes, but it was all in vain; whoever had tied these knots was as good as any sailor the Captain had ever met.
The door opened and a one-eyed fox, dressed entirely in black, entered the room.

"My apologies for the rough treatment, Captain", the fox said, "but it was necessary to get you here without any objections on your part."

"Who the hell are you?" Cerewan growled. The smug look on the fox's face annoyed him immensely and the dull headache he suffered from did not make things any better. "What do you want?"

"There's no need for you to know who I am", said the fox. "All I will tell you that I have the ear of a most exalted person. As for what I want? Well, Captain, I want you to answer some questions. Oh, I should point out that no-one saw you enter this room and no-one will see you leave it alive, unless you cooperate."

In Cerewan's brain, anger and shame fought for dominance, but found themselves tied. The tiger could not believe that he had allowed himself to be overpowered in a rare moment of weakness and was now at the mercy of this smug vulpine. Who were to blame for all this? To the Captain, the answer was obvious. Unfortunately, they were beyond his revenge.

"Very well" he said, resignedly. "I'll answer your question, what is it?"

"Your ship is a cargo-ship and yet, you have from time to time allowed passengers aboard, have you not?"

"I have, but to my knowledge that's not illegal. Unless there's some new law that I'm not aware of?"
"Don't worry, there isn't one. The reason we're having our little chat is because one of my spies overheard you at the bar. During your ramblings, you happened to mention three passengers, all of whom apparently drowned. Who were they?"

"Two girls and a boy. The older girl paid the agreed fare."

"What species were they?"

"The boy was a cat and the younger girl a lynx. They were siblings."

"What about the older girl?"

Cerewan shrugged.

"Its strange but I can't remember. When I looked at her I saw a tiger, but everyone aboard seemed convinced that she was a member of their own race."

"Didn't you find this a tad strange?"

"Of course I did!" Cerewan snapped. "She wore a cloak all the time. I suspected that it was a magic garment which shielded her true appearance. I never asked her about it though, my passengers are entitled to their privacy."

"How commendable of you", the fox said and smiled. "So, these three; how did they drown?"

"It all happened so suddenly", the captain lied, figuring that it was best not to let the fox know that passengers hadn't even been on the ship at the time. "The storm was upon us in an instant. They were swept away by the waves, along with my cabin-boy. We searched for them, but to no avail. The ocean, the merciless ocean took them immediately."
Having said that, the tiger lowered his head in a show of sorrow.

"You seem to have taken their deaths quite hard", the fox said, his voice completely devoid of sympathy. "However, I'd think that someone in your profession would have been used to see people drown on occasion."

"True, but its always sad to see young lives get snuffed out. Besides, as the Captain I felt a responsibility for all of them."
The fox nodded.

"Well, Captain Cerewan, I'm going to leave you for a moment and consult with my employer. I apologize for not loosening your bonds, but one can never be to careful. Ta-ta!"

With a mocking wave the fox left the room, leaving Cerewan alone with his thoughts, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

*****

Knowing that the Queen was resting up for her meeting with her ministers in an hour, Lorenzo made his way to the royal suite. Upon approaching the door which led there, he could hear a moaning sound coming from the other side. 

Sounds like she's not alone, the fox thought. Well, it can't be helped.

He knocked and an irritated voice answered:

"Yes?"

"Its Lorenzo, my Queen."

"I can hear that. I thought I told you that I didn't want to be disturbed?"

"A thousand apologies, but I bring important news that cannot wait."

"Very well, wait outside for a minute."

Doing as he was told, Lorenzo leaned against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. He did not remain in this position for too long, before the queen's voice called out to him again:

"You may enter."

Opening the door, Lorenzo stepped into the antechamber of the queen's apartment. He was immediately met with the sight of his sovereign, reclining in a chair with a bored look on his face. Standing next to her was a female poodle, wearing only her underwear. The moment Lorenzo entered, she lowered her eyes demurely and covered her breasts.

"Well, Lorenzo, I'm all ears", Argath said as she took a grape from the silver-bowl which sat on the table next to her and popped it in her mouth. "What are these important news."

Lorenzo bowed.

"If Your Majesty don't mind, its something I'd like to discuss in private." Approaching the queen's chair, he leaned in closer and whispered in her ears.

"It concerns your half-sister."

The dragon's eyes grew wide and she turned to the poodle.

"Leave us."

As soon as they were alone, Lorenzo divulged to the Queen all of which he had learned from Cerewan. Argath listened without comment, resting her chin on her hand. When Lorenzo had finished, she rose from the chair and began pacing around the room.

"This Cerewan, are you certain he speaks the truth?"

"I see no reason why he should lie, he knows well that his life is in my hands."

Argath nodded, satisfied with this answer.

"No-one must know about this", she said. "Least of all Jeraddin and Nasari."

"Agreed, you can still control the general, as long as his wife is your hostage, but if she finds out that her children have perished.."

..."She'll have nothing to loose", Argath agreed.

"What do you want me to do with your guest? Shall I silence him? It would be easily done."

"No, I'm feeling merciful. Release him and give him a token sum as a sign of our good will, then tell him that unless he wants his lifespan drastically shortened, he is not to mention this to anyone who lives in my realm. Now, you may leave.

Lorenzo bowed.

"As you command, my Queen. I take my leave now, to execute your command."

He was just about to exit the room, when Argath called his name.

"Oh, Lorenzo?"

"Yes, my queen?" He said, stopping in the doorway.

"Tell the girl to come back inside. I still have some time left and besides, my ministers won't die if they have to wait for a bit."

Lorenzo found the poodle-girl seated on the floor in the corridor, knees pulled up to her ears.

"Go back inside", the fox said.

The poodle raised her head and looked at Lorenzo with pleading eyes, but seeing no sign of compassion on the fox's features, she sighed resignedly and walked back inside. As he began his walk back to the dungeon, Lorenzo ran into none other than Kashmir. 

"Where are you headed to in such a hurry?" He asked.

"I must see the queen, immediately", Kashmir said and Lorenzo noticed that there were tears in his eyes.

"No can do, she gave strict orders not to be disturbed."

"But I bring sad news", Kashmir protested. "Its her brother, my master, he...he is dead."