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It was a tradition among the tigers that the Great Khan would set aside a few hours each day to address the requests and concerns of his people. Not just those of his clan, but of the jungle as a whole. Even though no herbivore ever voluntarily approached the temple, there were still ways for the other inhabitants of the jungle to convey their concerns to the tigers. His warriors stood guard at the borders of their realm, and whenever traders passed by, they could speak with them; even the patrols that roamed the jungle along the usual paths could be approached at any time. These problems, fears, and hardships were then presented to the Great Khan.

It was then up to the Great Khan to decide whether, and if so, what he intended to do about it. Most of these audiences proceeded calmly and peacefully, for, much to his satisfaction, most of his tigers were quite content with their lot, and most of the jungle’s inhabitants had no cause to complain about their lives under the tigers. Of course, there were occasionally minor quarrels and disputes that needed to be settled, but the bulk of the problems usually resolved themselves without the intervention of the leader of the tigers.

Today, too, it had remained calm in the great hall that the Great Khan used as his throne room, and so he used the quiet time to reflect on his life and ponder his decisions. In fact, he had been doing this more often lately, for he was beginning to feel the first signs of old age as they crept into his body very slowly and stealthily. He was by no means old or even frail; on the contrary, he was still an outstanding fighter and a strong, capable ruler, but his best years were now behind him.

He had to smile; he already sounded like his father, who had always reveled in the past. Then he remembered that his old man had not been that much older when he had passed away peacefully. Even though they had now been living in peace for more than 200 years, most tigers didn’t live much longer than that. It almost seemed as if nature didn’t want predators to grow old and gray.

A shame, really; he would have liked to spend a lot more time with his girls and his wives.

His girls, exactly. The years had passed so quickly, and his daughters had grown up before his eyes in the blink of an eye. It seemed to him as if it had only been yesterday that they had lain in their mother’s arms as little cubs, and now they had already grown into such pretty young women. With mixed feelings, he thought of the future, when they would take one of his warriors as a mate. On the one hand, he envied the two warriors who would have the honor, for they would take beautiful, strong, and strong-willed young tigresses as wives; at the same time, however, he also felt sorry for them, for it would be easier to herd a sack full of fleas than to keep these two wild ones in check.

When they were still small, they had constantly played pranks on everyone and caused mischief all over the temple. They were always up to no good and were practically always on the run from the priestesses, their mother, and sometimes even from him ‒ which was understandable, considering that they wanted to teach the two girls such boring things as manners, etiquette, and history. Back then, they had always complained that they didn’t want to be princesses; they wanted to go on adventures, fight battles, and not spend all day studying. They hadn’t cared back then that the fate of their kingdom would one day rest on their shoulders ‒ it all seemed so far away, and besides, their father was the Great Khan, so why should they worry about it? He would always be there, after all.

There it was again ‒ he wouldn’t always be there…

On the other hand, if he was honest, he’d believed that back then, too; in fact, he recognized so much of himself in them. Smiling, he remembered how, as a little boy, he’d run away from the High Priestess because he’d rather learn to hunt and fight than how to engage in boring politics and perform ancient rites. As a little cub, he hadn’t wanted to know anything about the responsibility of being the Great Khan either; that was his father’s job, and he would always be there… and then he wasn’t there anymore.

He had ascended the throne quite early, when his father had died quite unexpectedly of a fever. He hoped he would have a little more time left to spend with his loved ones.

He turned his thoughts back to his two lovely daughters. In the end, despite all odds, they had made it; they had grown into two magnificent young women. But as graceful and beautiful as they were in their roles as heirs to the throne, as deadly elegant as they were as warriors, and as prudent and adept as they were as politicians, they could be just as ruthless and efficient as leaders of their armies.

His gaze shifted to his right, where Amelie, his older daughter and first in line to the throne, was seated. She was only a few minutes older than her sister, but it might as well have been years, so different was she from Emily. Amelie was the calmer, more methodical of the two. She was well-versed in politics, diplomacy, etiquette, and everything else deemed necessary at court. She was more reserved and cautious than her sister, but she had a strong will and would one day make a fine ruler; of that the Great Khan was certain. In her, he saw all that had made her mother such a good counterpart to him.

Then he let his gaze wander to his left, where Emily sat, his younger daughter. She was the complete opposite of her sister. She was wild, impetuous, and energetic in everything she did. She excelled above all else in combat and dueling; no one, not even the physically superior Tigers, could hold a candle to her in sparring, but she was a hopeless dreamer who constantly yearned for romance and adventure. One day, she would turn one of his warriors’ head so completely that he would likely never see straight again. In her, the Great Khan recognized many of his own character traits.

Behind Emily stood Pecada Dulce, the mother of his daughters, whose hand rested on the young tigress’s right shoulder. She looked as proud and strong as she always had. He loved them all with all his heart, and he would give up everything without a second thought if it meant ensuring that no harm would come to them. He wanted to protect and care for them forever, but he knew that he would soon have to let them go. The day when he could no longer hold them back was drawing inexorably closer, and like any father, he dreaded it.

Both Amelia and Emily were now of reproductive age, and soon they would choose a mate from among his warriors.

A mate who, in the case of his older daughter, would become the next Great Khan when he eventually abdicated the throne, for tradition dictated that only a male tiger could bear the title of Great Khan. However, this tiger would be Khan in name only, since his daughter ‒ Amelia, to be precise ‒ would become the actual head of the tribe. He hoped that Amelia would find a partner capable of navigating this balancing act between appearance and reality while still being there for her.

He was immensely proud of his daughters. They stuck together like glue, there was no strife between them, and the close bond they had shared since birth as twin sisters prevented them from ever feeling jealous of one another; which, however, did not mean that they were not in fierce rivalry with each other in everything they did. They outdid one another and thus spurred each other on to ever greater achievements.

They were so different, and yet they complemented each other perfectly. The Great Khan harbored the quiet hope that when Amelia finally ascended the throne, Emily would always stand by her side as her closest and most loyal advisor, and that they would listen to one another when it came to governing their realm.

Until that time came, he would remain the Great Khan, and he would lead his people and the inhabitants of the jungle to the best of his knowledge and belief.

While the Great Khan was still lost in thought, the massive double doors at the other end of the hall were thrown open, and he was rather rudely jolted out of his musings. All four turned their attention to the entrance of the hall and watched as the guards dragged a battered and ragged figure into the throne room. It was clearly a jaguar, hanging between the two massive tigers and barely able to keep up with them. His curiosity piqued, the leader of the tigers sat up straight on his throne and heard his daughters beside him do the same.

It was not exactly customary for the border patrol to take prisoners when one of the other carnivores invaded their territory; it was clearly stipulated that such individuals were to be killed on the spot, and their carcasses were generally displayed at the borders as a deterrent. That was why it was rather rare for them to capture one alive and drag it into the temple.

The guards dragged the prisoner through the hall toward the Great Khan and threw him to the floor before the throne, where he lay for the time being, breathing heavily. Two of the guards pointed their spears at him, while the third stepped forward and knelt before the Great Khan and his daughters to pay him due respect.

“Great Khan, Leader, we apprehended this intruder at the eastern border of our territory along with two others of his kind. His companions immediately attacked us and had to be killed, but this jaguar was already severely wounded before we encountered them and surrendered immediately without a fight. Since he did not resist, we decided to bring him to the temple for interrogation.”

Reported the tiger in a firm voice accustomed to authority, waiting for his leader’s reaction. The Great Khan finally nodded and motioned for his subordinate to rise.

“Thank you for your efforts; we will hear what the intruder has to say in his defense before we pass judgment. You may withdraw; return to your squad.”

Replied the Great Khan, though a certain tension spread through him. The Border Guard rose, only to bow once more immediately afterward, before turning on his heel and leaving the hall. He left the jaguar in the capable hands of the temple guards, under the watchful eyes of his leader and his daughters. When he finally passed through the great portal at the other end of the hall, the double doors closed behind him, and for a brief moment an oppressive silence reigned in the throne room. Only the ragged breathing of the defeated jaguar pierced the silence, while the smell of blood and sweat filled the air.

The Great Khan leaned forward on his throne, resting on his elbows, as he focused all his attention on the prisoner. He observed the once-mighty warrior, whose battered body was struggling heavily against the multitude of injuries.

“Rise, Talon.”

He finally commanded, watching closely what the jaguar did. The jaguar stirred, but was unable to obey the Khan’s command on his own. The leader of the Tigers waited a moment longer before repeating his order.

“Stand up, Talon, like the proud warrior you are. Show my daughters why your tribe was once feared like no other for its skills.”

The Khan demanded, and the battered warrior tried once more to rise. Only after faltering several times did he finally manage to stand up from the ground, trembling, though he could barely stay upright. He swayed heavily from side to side and threatened to collapse again, whereupon the Khan signaled to the guards, and they took the jaguar between them and held him upright. Despite the guards’ support, he still seemed unsteady on his feet.

When he saw this, the Great Khan slowly shook his head in disbelief, but before he could say anything, his younger daughter blurted out:

“Pull yourself together, Talon, you’re standing before the Great Khan, the leader of the tigers, the undisputed ruler of the jungle, your judge, jury, and executioner, so show a little more respect…”

But she didn’t get any further before her father cut her off and her mother’s claws dug into her shoulder. Emily ground her teeth audibly and flattened her ears, but finally swallowed her anger before she could make another comment. She knew she had gone too far, but her anger at the lack of respect the jaguar had shown had overwhelmed her before she could restrain herself. She knew she would have to listen to a lecture from her mother later about how a young woman, even if she was the princess and even if she was right, should sometimes exercise a little more self-control. It wasn’t the first lecture of this kind, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

On the other side of the throne sat Amelia, calmly observing the prisoner. She studied the once-feared enemy, committing his features to memory, and waited for her father’s reaction. He leaned further forward in his throne and examined the wounds that had been inflicted on the jaguar. None of them were directly fatal or truly severe, but there were a great many of them, and some were infected. Most of these wounds, however, were clearly too old to have been inflicted by his men. Finally, he sat up straight again and looked into the jaguar’s eyes.

“Tell me, Talon, why are you in such a state? What led to a mighty warrior like you being brought down in this manner? And what drove you and your companions, against your better judgment, to invade our territory at this very moment?”

Asked the leader of the Tigers, and there was genuine curiosity resonating in his voice. He was willing to be patient with the captive, for apparently he was truly at the end of his physical strength. It took another moment before the jaguar finally lifted his head slightly, and when he answered, his voice was a broken whisper, merely a shadow of what it should be for a jaguar of his stature.

“Don’t… don’t call me that… I have no right to claim that title for myself. Our tribe is broken, and its remnants are scattered across the land. There are only a few of us left, and nothing remains of the glory my people once claimed for themselves…”

He whispered, his rattling breath interrupting his words more frequently. Before continuing, he swallowed hard and glanced briefly at one of the guards.

“After our tribe was driven from this land by your forefathers, we had to make do with whatever prey was left to hunt. It wasn’t much, for the lands outside this jungle are not so bountiful. Eventually, the jaguars had to abandon the concept of a great clan living and hunting together, and with it the traditions we had upheld for generations.”

He explained, licking his lips before swaying dangerously, but the guards kept him upright. It took a moment for him to regain his composure, and he leaned heavily against one of the guards.

“These days, the jaguars hunt alone. Only rarely do we come together and spend time with one another, but often there isn’t much more time than a brief, shared meal, and when the opportunity arises, we try to ensure our survival. But… but since ‘they’ came down from the mountains, even that little bit of solidarity has been lost, out of fear of falling prey to those things. They have hunted us, driven us to the brink of extinction.”

He finally concluded and groaned. The Great Khan, who had been listening intently the whole time, ran a clawed hand over his chin and raised his eyebrows. He signaled to one of the guards, who then went to one of the tables and filled a goblet with water. When he returned, he poured the life-giving liquid into the jaguar’s mouth, and the jaguar drank it greedily. Meanwhile, the Khan waited, pondering what had been said. Only after the jaguar had emptied the cup and was receptive again did the ruler of the tigers turn to him once more.

“Who came from the mountains? Who lives there and hunts predators?”

The Great Khan wanted to know, but the jaguar only shook his head slowly. He did not know.

“Oh mighty Khan, I cannot say for certain, but they are a new kind of predator. We have never seen or fought them before, but those I was able to see from a distance with my own eyes walked on their hind legs, like all of us, but they lacked fur or hair. They wore the skins of the prey they killed, and the little skin I could see was leathery and pale. I cannot say more, Sire; the creatures were too far away, and approaching them is deadly. They fight from a distance, without honor or pride. They use weapons that spew fire and thunder and can kill a full-grown water buffalo with a single blow.”

He explained in a trembling voice, but then he slumped back to the ground before the guards could catch him. Crouching on his knees before the Khan’s throne, he propped himself up on his forearms and did not dare lift his head to look the leader of the Tigers in the eye.

“You can neither reason with nor argue against these predators, for they speak a language I have never heard before. They kill completely indiscriminately. Men, women, children, the old and the young, the healthy and the crippled ‒ it makes no difference to them at all. They came down from the mountains to kill. They do not hunt, for those who hunt eat their prey, but they ‒ they come only to kill; and every time they venture down from the mountains, they penetrate further into the jungle and kill more.”

His breathing was now labored, and his voice was rough and hoarse, but he continued nonetheless:

“They… they don’t even eat their prey; they just skin them and take their teeth and horns and who knows what else… trophies… sick trophies, taken without being earned in fair combat… and every time they’ve taken their share, they simply retreat back into the mountains…”

He added, gasping, as he mustered his last strength to report to the Great Khan. Finally, he raised his head, trembling, his eyes filled with such pure and unbridled hatred that even the Khan flinched slightly.

“Savages…”

He whispered, then finally collapsed and lay motionless on the ground. For a moment, silence reigned once more in the hall, and the Great Khan continued to gaze at the big cat lying unconscious on the floor. Thoughtfully, he scratched his chin before slowly straightening up and leaning back in his throne. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to his guards.

“Take him to the dungeon, but treat him well. Have the healer tend to his wounds and give him something to eat. Who knows, we might need him later.”

He ordered calmly, though the tension within him was quite palpable. The two guards bowed deeply before lifting the unconscious feline from the floor and slowly dragging him out of the great hall.

When the portal doors closed behind the guards and the Great Khan was alone again in the throne room with his daughters and his partner, an oppressive silence fell over the room. The Khan was deep in thought, and his companions knew better than to disturb him now. He tried to make sense of what the jaguar had told him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t. It simply didn’t make sense that a predator would hunt another just to kill it, but not to eat it. He could understand the trophy aspect to a certain extent, but then why leave the meat behind?

It was all very bizarre, yet at the same time he didn’t believe the intruder had lied to him ‒ that would make even less sense, wouldn’t it?

His gaze drifted to the right, to his older daughter, who also seemed deep in thought, stroking her chin in an imitation of his own gesture while furrowing her brow and laying her ears back. He caught himself smiling slightly and was about to tell her that the wrinkles didn’t suit her, and that she was still far too young to worry about such things, but he held back; after all, it was precisely these things that made him want his daughters to be present at the audiences ‒ they should learn what might lie ahead for them once they took the reins of their people’s destiny.

He turned in the other direction and looked at Emily and Pecada. The two of them were intently whispering things to each other that he couldn’t hear. It bothered him when there were things he didn’t know, or wasn’t supposed to know, especially when his beloved wore such a serious expression. He waited a moment longer, then put on an understanding smile before addressing his first concubine:

“Would you like to share your thoughts with me, my love?”

He purred through his smile, winking at her as he did so, and his companion’s expression brightened almost instantly. She squeezed her daughter’s shoulder one last time and then let go to walk over to her leader and partner. She used the few steps to sway her hips seductively and let her elegant tail swing lasciviously back and forth. She knew exactly how to distract the mighty tiger on his throne when she placed her clawed hand on his cheek and gently stroked him.

“My dearest, this is a matter that concerns only a mother and her daughter.”

She purred softly, gazing deep into his eyes, her smile that of a predator with its prey in its sights. She was playful and hungry, and he knew it.

“After all, girls have to have their secrets.”

She added, as he rested his head against her hand and smiled at her with his eyes closed. He listened to her and visibly enjoyed the contact before finally nodding slightly and lifting his head from her hand.

“Yes, of course. Where would we end up if we men ever fully understood you? That would surely be the downfall of our civilization.”

He replied cheerfully, though he was really trying not to let on that this secrecy was actually bothering him. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes and finally both began to giggle, while Emily blushed slightly. The Great Khan placed his large paw on hers, which was much more delicate, and stroked it with a smile.

“All is well, my love… but that wasn’t what I meant at all.”

He finally said, turning to his daughters as well.

“What do my girls think about what the jaguar told us? I’m eager to hear your thoughts on this dilemma.”

He asked quietly but encouragingly, waiting for his daughters’ input. Amelia was the first to speak up. She cleared her throat softly, drawing the others’ attention. She looked a little uncertain, but took a deep breath and raised her voice.

“I’ve never heard of a species of predators that kill just for fun or as some kind of competition, as the trophies suggest. All the predator species I was taught about by the priestesses always killed only to sustain their own lives or at least in self-defense, and even in that case, a predator wouldn’t let its prey go to waste but would eat as much as possible. We don’t kill for the thrill; we didn’t even do that in the old wars. It was never about killing as an end in itself; it was always about survival and food.”

She explained, looking at her hands and shaking her head.

“I can only agree with the jaguar ‒ savages, uncivilized, primitive savages. No one with even the slightest understanding of sustainability or honor would kill just for the sake of killing.”

She added, looking at her father, the incomprehension in her gaze clear. He nodded; he would certainly agree with that as well. Then he turned to Emily and his mate. His younger daughter had her lips pressed together and nodded slightly as well.

“I agree with that as well. Even in the worst of times, we didn’t simply kill our enemies. But what fascinates me even more is his description of these strange predators. No fur, pale, leathery skin, and they wore the furs and hides of their victims. I have never seen a creature that fits that description. The few furless species we know of don’t have pale skin. Such skin would be only moderately suitable for camouflage, and besides, light-colored skin is much more vulnerable to the sun. In high mountains, where there is less vegetation, the light color might be better suited for camouflage, but then again, they would lack fur to protect them from the low temperatures. Perhaps that is why they take the pelts of their victims to camouflage and protect themselves.”

She explained her own train of thought, which her father nodded in agreement with. He could follow this line of reasoning with a clear conscience as well. His daughters would make good rulers if they thought this way and didn’t simply rush ahead. It was important to understand an opponent first before fighting them. Finally, his gaze wandered to his mate, whose own expression seemed closed off. She had her ears laid back and looked dejected, but she knew he wouldn’t let her get away with it so easily without at least sharing some of her thoughts with him, and so she finally nodded.

“All these assumptions are correct and important, but what do these newcomers ultimately want? If they’re hunting just for the thrill, just for sport, if they’re collecting trophies to better camouflage themselves or hide in the jungle, what do they want with all of this? The jaguar has reported that with every hunt, they venture a little deeper into the jungle. They are pushing back the inhabitants of the areas outside our territory, not just the predators. How long will it take before first the refugees and then these unknown hunters invade our territory? If the jaguars, who are excellent warriors, cannot stop them, how can we stop them? He said they kill from a distance with weapons that spew fire and thunder. What can we do against such a threat if we don’t even know whether our armor can withstand them? We need more information. We must learn more about this enemy, or else we might suffer the same fate as the jaguars.”

She said, her voice tinged with concern and, to some extent, fear. However, she was not so much worried about herself as she was about her loved ones, for she knew that her companion, should a battle arise, would fight on the front lines, since he was the leader of their army, and he would lead from the front.

The said companion nodded silently. Her thoughts were also his thoughts. Neither of them had ever experienced the hardships of war. They had all been born and raised during the most peaceful era the jungle had ever known. Peace between the herbivores and the tigers had now lasted for over 200 years. The pact, first forged by their ancestors and renewed only a few years ago by him and the herbivores of this generation.

Peace and prosperity, unprecedented in history, were the result of this agreement, and yet this new, as yet unknown threat could end this peace faster than they could ever have imagined.

He took a deep breath and leaned back against his throne. His thoughts were in disarray, vying for his attention. What was he to make of all this? What would he do now? What options did he have? Could he do anything at all, or were his hands tied? He pressed his fingertips together and rested his head against the cradle he had formed. He did not like the fact that he did not know the answers to these questions and, at the moment, did not know exactly where to look for them. With his eyes closed, he thought for a moment longer before finally turning to his beloved:

“It’s not easy for me to admit this, but we’ll have to wait until our… guest… has at least recovered a little so we can question him again. In the meantime, I’ll consult the High Priestess. Double the border patrols; I want spears at every entrance to the jungle at all times. No one gets in here without us noticing.”

He decided in a calm tone and closed his eyes briefly once more before finally nodding, as if to reaffirm his decision to himself. Then he looked at Pecada, who had returned to her place, to the left behind his younger daughter.

“Will you accompany me, my love?”

He asked softly with a faint smile, and when she returned a gentle smile of her own, he turned to his daughters:

“And you two are relieved of your duties for today. Return to your studies. I will send for you as soon as there is news.”

Declared the Great Khan, and Emily was about to protest, but her mother’s clawed hand, resting on her shoulder, reminded her once again not to contradict her father at such moments. She paused in her movement and finally nodded before looking over at her sister. Silently, they both rose and approached the throne, where they respectfully knelt before their father and ruler.

Benevolent and smiling, he placed a paw on each of their heads and nodded.

“Rise, my children.”

He whispered, signaling for them to rise, and they rose from their knees with infinite elegance. He nodded. They were picture-perfect, just like their mother, and they were growing up far too quickly.

“Now go, my little devils; I will send for you as soon as there is news to report.”

His smile widened, and he practically shooed them away as they bowed, then strode quickly out of the great hall. The portal doors weren’t even closed yet, and their excited chatter could already be heard. Smiling, the Khan raised his hand to Pecada’s face and gently stroked her cheek.

“It’s all happening way too fast for me. Just yesterday they were still little kittens…”

He murmured softly, lost in thought, and Pecada held his paw to her cheek and stroked it gently. She loved his soft side so much, and she knew better than anyone else that his hard and unyielding outer shell was merely a facade for a much softer, more sensitive core.

“Indeed, they’re still far too young to succeed you. So you can’t step down yet, and you certainly can’t die. I won’t let that happen ‒ do you understand me?”

She replied with a certain cheerfulness, causing her lover to smile.

“As you wish, my mistress.”

He replied, offering a small kiss. He knew she didn’t mean it that way, but he loved her for her refreshing sense of humor, which always managed to snap him out of his gloomy mood. She winked playfully, and his smile widened again.

“Will you tell me your secret?”

He asked jokingly, though he already knew the answer. He had to try anyway, but Pecada gently shook her head.

“Oh no, my beloved, this secret is something that concerns only Emily and me. Not even the Great Khan is allowed to know it. At least not yet.”

she replied, wagging her index finger in front of his eyes, which made the mighty tiger grin and elicited a deep, guttural growl from him.

“So there’s a slim chance that I might actually find out someday…”

He concluded, more to himself than to her, but he knew she’d picked up on it anyway. And sure enough, she leaned down toward him and kissed her beloved companion on the head.

“We’ll see… Maybe…”

She whispered meaningfully into his ear before pressing another kiss on his cheek. The Khan sighed heavily.

“We should make our way to the High Priestess; I have a feeling I might learn something new today.”

He finally said, rising slowly from his throne.

…

The Great Khan walked through the winding corridors of the temple alongside his first concubine. He was deep in thought, and several times he caught himself slowing down until he finally came to a complete stop. Pecada, who was always by his side, gently placed her delicate hands on his shoulders and snuggled up to him from behind. She rested her head on his strong shoulder and lightly stroked his neck.

“What’s on your mind, my love?”

She asked softly, and the smile on her face was clearly audible in her voice. She was pretty sure she already knew the answer, but it was important to hear it from him, and so he murred softly and enjoyed the caresses of his chosen one for the moment before raising his hand and gently stroking her cheek.

“Is it that obvious?”

He replied, thinking about what to say to her. Pecada nodded gently.

“To someone like me, you’re an open book; you can’t hide anything from me…”

She replied, pressing herself closer to him.

“I’m worried. If there’s even a shred of truth to what that jaguar said, then we’re in grave danger, and I don’t know how to respond to that.”

He finally replied truthfully. The thoughts in his head were spinning faster and faster around the question: What if? What if the jaguar was right? What if this previously unknown enemy, while they were still hesitating, was already mustering his armies to invade their territory? What if they were truly so outmatched that there was nothing they could throw at them? What if the jaguar had brazenly lied to them, hoping to save his own skin?

Pecada sensed his doubt, his hesitation, and pulled him tightly against her own body, feeling their warmth mingle. She kissed him tenderly on the neck and let her hands wander over his broad chest before pressing him against her with all her strength.

“I know, my darling, but we’re not in immediate danger yet, so relax, my big, powerful chieftain, or I might be forced to relax you in a different way…”

She whispered softly and seductively, as her hands continued their journey across his muscular chest. The Great Khan purred loudly and rested his head against hers; he would have been only too happy to surrender himself unreservedly to her attentions, and his body was already making it unmistakably clear to him what effect her touch, her scent, and her voice were having on him. She had always had ways and means of getting her way with him. He took a deep breath and visibly relaxed before slowly turning toward her and looking into her beautiful, yellow-green eyes. He smiled gently and tenderly touched her forehead with his.

“Oh, my lovely Pecada, how I would love to accompany you to our quarters right now and spend the rest of the day there, playing with you in the most indecent way imaginable until both our bodies are too exhausted to do anything but sleep, but unfortunately we must first consult the High Priestess.”

He murmured softly as he rubbed against her gently yet with complete devotion. A shudder ran through him as even this subtle touch already gave him such intense pleasure. His partner smiled and returned the gesture, her breathing deepening noticeably as she was tempted to wrap her leg around the Great Khan’s waist, but managed to restrain herself just in time. She purred softly and didn’t let him go ‒ quite the opposite. She couldn’t get enough of him. It was true, she wasn’t the only concubine in his harem, but since she was the mother of his only children, she possessed certain privileges over the other tigresses in his harem, though she didn’t mind sharing him with them. In fact, it wasn’t a problem, because the Great Khan had always managed to keep all his wives happy and satisfied, and sometimes they were even quite glad when he didn’t pay them any attention. Pecada, however, had always been a bit more greedy when it came to spending time with her mate.

She relished having his undivided attention, not having to share him with anyone or anything, even if it was just this brief, fleeting moment in the temple corridors. She relished his touch and his love, his desire and his passion, which he shared so freely with her; yet at the same time, she knew he was right ‒ this was not the right moment to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh; they would have plenty of time for that later. Now was the time to gather as much information as possible. And so she reluctantly pulled away from the Great Khan and gave him a little kiss right on his big nose.

“You’re right, of course, as always, my beloved. Let’s question the High Priestess and find out as much as we can.”

She whispered softly, yet without banishing the seductive undertone from her voice, and as a final sign of her rebellion against the task now before them, she tenderly ran her hand over the growing tent that his manhood was erecting beneath his robe. Her partner drew in a ravenous breath and shuddered at her touch. His smile betrayed how much he was enjoying it, even if he didn’t want to show it directly. Nevertheless, he loved her cunning way of always managing, against all odds, to coax at least a few concessions out of him. This time, too, he was basically ready to let her have her way, but his sense of duty kept him strong and restrained. Too much was at stake for all of them, even now.

And yet he couldn’t help but return her little, naughty gesture, and so he let his hands glide gently over her cheeks and neck first, which made her close her eyes and sigh softly, and then his large, strong hands tenderly roamed over her ample breasts, briefly cupping one of them as he watched her features relax almost instantly. She visibly enjoyed his attentions and gave him her consent in the form of a breathy moan. He could be just as mischievous as she was when it came to getting what he wanted, but he also had enough discipline to pause and let go of his lover.

Even though it pained him not to give in to it now, he withdrew, giving Pecada room to breathe, and looked at her with a certain sparkle in his eyes that promised more as soon as time allowed. Finally, they both nodded and turned back toward the path leading to the High Priestess’s chambers. With renewed energy and vigor, the Great Khan strode ahead; the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he would be able to devote himself to more pleasant matters.

While a significant portion of the temple complex was reserved for rituals, the priesthood, and, not least, the Great Khan and his harem, there were distinct barracks at the rear of the complex that belonged to the Tigers’ troop quarters. In the past, during the time of the Great War, this part of the temple had been even larger, but since the Tigers were bound by the agreement and the “manpower” stipulated therein, a large portion of the barracks had been dismantled, and the Tigers’ forces made do with the existing quarters. Since about a third of the Tigers were always on patrol, the two large dormitories that remained were sufficient. Adjacent to these were the armory and the chamber of the captain of the guard.

The Great Khan’s order reached, at that very moment, the very chamber where the captain of the guard resided and was poring over the guard schedules. He was a huge, massive tiger, whose countless scars stemmed from just as many battles and who was known for his gruff manner. The messenger, who had come directly from the great hall on the Khan’s behalf to deliver the leader’s order, handed the order to the captain with a small but respectful bow. The captain glanced briefly at the parchment before taking a deep breath.

“Double the border patrols? Spears at every entrance to our territory? What on earth is he thinking?”

He practically shouted at the messenger, who took two steps back but otherwise stood his ground. The captain’s eyes seemed to bore into the messenger as he ground his teeth and pricked up his ears. Everyone in the guard knew how quick-tempered and impulsive the captain could be, and no one ever wanted to be on the wrong end of one of his outbursts. He was known for destroying things when he was angry, and that wasn’t necessarily limited to objects. If the captain weren’t such an exceptionally skilled fighter and as natural a leader as he was, the Great Khan would likely have relieved him of his post long ago, but as things stood, both the Khan and the High Priestess overlooked the Tiger’s occasional outbursts.

At the moment, he was pacing excitedly back and forth in his small quarters, like the caged tiger he was, and growling softly while muttering incomprehensibly to himself. It took a while, during which he kept pausing at his desk, glancing at the maps, shifting markers back and forth, only to then shake his head and resume his restless pacing. Finally, he stopped at his desk one last time and turned to the messenger, who was still standing there waiting for instructions. He pressed his chapped lips together and gave the young tiger a grim look.

“I’ll take care of it. Go and report to the Khan. His guard will secure the borders of our territory, and nothing will be able to sneak in or out, no matter what may happen.”

He growled softly, and when the messenger didn’t move immediately, he added:

“Do you want to put down roots here? Make sure you earn your keep, or you’ll be forcibly recruited right here and now!”

Now the messenger hurried off and left the small chamber. His footsteps could still be heard as the captain ran his calloused paw across his face and studied the map on his desk once more. They would have to spread out a hell of a long way if they wanted to have even the slightest chance of covering the entire border.

“I clearly don’t have enough warriors. I’ve always said we need more tigers, but nobody listens to the captain of the guard. Now we’re in a fix. Damned herbivores…”

He muttered, taking another deep breath before pushing past his desk to leave his quarters and inform his warriors of the situation. As he stepped out of his chamber into the corridor that would lead him to the dormitories, he drew his club and let it slide along the wall. The hollow pounding that occurred with every impact against a new stone accompanied him on his way to the first door. When he finally stood before the door, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath before flinging the door open with a forceful shove.

“All right, up and at ’em!”

He bellowed in his best parade ground voice into the darkness of the dormitory, instantly rousing even the last of the tigers gathered there. Even though the room was almost completely dark, the captain could clearly see how his warriors reacted. The effect his shout had on most of the tigers was almost like a reflex: they leaped out of their bunks before they were even fully awake and stood at attention at the foot of their cots. The scarred tiger nodded and grinned a particularly crooked smile.

“Listen up, my little kitties, the Great Khan has learned of a great danger lurking right at our borders. In the jungle outside our territory, an as-yet-unidentified enemy lies in wait, taking out its targets from a distance and then taking only trophies. This enemy, completely unknown to us, is wreaking havoc in the thicket and has already decimated the local jaguar population ‒ which doesn’t bother us in the least, but by all appearances, he doesn’t stop at the local herbivores either. As things progress, we estimate that this enemy will also approach our borders and will then hunt us down ‒ or, may the ancestors prevent it ‒ our allies.”

The last part of his announcement dripped with so much sarcasm that even the captain couldn’t help but let out a brief chuckle. It was a joyless, brutal laugh, but he caught himself almost instantly and continued his address:

“So we will secure our borders and report anything unusual we encounter immediately. Now, my little killer kittens, get ready ‒ we’re going to war! We’re moving out at full strength and with full packs. Pack up the gear of the others who are already in the field; we have no time to lose.”

He ordered, punctuating his speech with menacing growls. His eyes glinted in the dim light of the dormitory, and his scarred face twisted into a grimace that could only be identified as a smile with a great deal of imagination. The older tigers, who had served under the captain for some time, knew that he had long held the view that there had been no real challenge for the tigers for far too long and that he yearned for a genuine conflict. For him, the occasional tournaments and rare skirmishes with intruders were not enough. He needed a real battle, with real consequences ‒ a new war.

While the massive tiger was still standing in the doorway, already pondering strategies, the members of the guard had already begun feverishly gathering their own gear and that of the other tigers who were already out in the field. He nodded with satisfaction and pointed with his thumb toward the second door behind him.

“And please, someone should let the recruits know what’s on the agenda. If I go in there now, those wimps will just shit their pants again from here to Friday…”

He barked and turned on his heel to stomp back to his quarters. He would gather and check his own gear. Just the thought that he would finally be going to war made him all tingly, and he had to hold himself back hard not to giggle like a madman the whole time.

After he had laid out and checked all his gear and weapons, he turned his attention back to the maps. The messenger’s note stated that the attack would most likely come from the northeast, so he would have that border guarded most heavily. It would make sense to set up an advanced command post somewhere between the temple and the border to keep the lines of communication between the front and headquarters shorter and thus be able to react more quickly. He studied the maps and marked a few spots that would be suitable for a command post, then drew routes to the locations where an attack was most likely. He worked on his plans for several more hours, sending some of his recruits out to consult with the quartermasters about what was possible and what was not before settling on a plan.

Away from the bustling activity in the barracks, the Great Khan had reached his destination. He stood before the large, red double doors leading to the priesthood’s ritual chambers. They were guarded by two members of the honor guard to ensure that no one could gain unauthorized access to the temple’s sanctuaries. They were large, statuesque tigers, their flawless bodies adorned with ritual bands and their fur painted with runes of purity and protection. As soon as they saw their leader, they knelt reverently and bowed their heads. These warriors were among the best and most respected their clan had to offer, and it was considered a special honor to be chosen for guard duty at the gate to the ritual chambers.

The Great Khan smiled gently and nodded, satisfied with the display of their deep respect for their leader. Slowly and without haste, he stepped between the warriors and placed one of his paws on each of their shoulders. He waited a brief moment, paying his guard the respect they too deserved, before removing his hands from them and whispering:

“Rise, my warriors.”

Whereupon the two guards rose again. Their slow but powerful movements displayed a kind of effortless grace that testified to their excellent body control. The Khan took a step back and regarded his warriors with pride and satisfaction.

“I require an audience with the High Priestess; is she available?”

he finally asked quietly, careful to show the necessary respect for the spiritual leader of their community. One of the guards replied in a tone as quiet as it was respectful:

“My Khan, the High Priestess is in the bath. She is currently performing the ritual cleansing before tomorrow’s opening of the Path. She takes the responsibilities of her office very seriously.”

The Great Khan nodded thoughtfully, paused for a moment, and then looked at Pecada.

“Can you go in and explain the situation? I’ll wait in the courtyard.”

Even though, on paper, the Great Khan was more than just the leader of the Tiger Clan, there were still certain rules that applied even to him and that he had to follow. One of them was that he was not to enter the temple’s ritual areas. These sanctuaries were reserved solely for the clan’s priestesses and priests‒and, of course, the tributes who came to the temple every other week. He hadn’t set foot in those areas since childhood, but he had a premonition that would soon change.

Pecada nodded and turned to the guards, who opened one wing of the double doors a crack for her. With a little wink, the chieftain’s lover slipped through the opening and vanished into the darkness behind the door. The guards bowed slightly and closed the door again behind the concubine.

Now the Khan was alone again with the guards, and there was nothing left for him to do here, so he nodded appreciatively once more to his subordinates and then turned to leave. He would wait in the large courtyard for the return of his beloved, who would hopefully bring him answers.

The ritual chambers of the temple were always shrouded in an oppressive, gloomy atmosphere, which had less to do with the absence of light and more with the knowledge that whoever entered these chambers generally never left alive. While this essentially applied only to the tributes, even most of the tigers did not feel entirely at ease in the presence of so much death. Few tigers, apart from the priestesses and priests, entered this part of the temple voluntarily, and in fact, most were even forbidden to do so.

Pecada herself avoided the ritual chambers whenever possible, but sometimes it simply could not be avoided. She knew, as did all the other tigers, that their way of life ‒ indeed, their very survival ‒ required the death of others; this was unavoidable. They fed on meat, after all, but that did not mean she had to take pride in what happened in those chambers when, every other week, the tributes sent by the herbivore tribes came down the path; when the innocents voluntarily allowed themselves to be led by their executioners to the slaughter, sacrificing themselves for the greater good and the maintenance of the ancient truce they had once made with them.

For both the tigers and the herbivores, it was a necessary evil, but at the same time also the lesser evil they had chosen back then, over 200 years ago, instead of continuing with the old ways: hunting and killing as needed, indiscriminately and without mercy.

They all convinced themselves that this was the more civilized way to implement the law of the jungle ‒ to do what was necessary to preserve their own survival and that of others. After all this time, it was so deeply rooted in their minds and souls that they already considered it a sacred dogma. Even most of the herbivores had by now become convinced that this was the only right way. In the end, however, after all the excuses, explanations, and justifications had been voiced, nothing had changed at the core of the dilemma: they were still killing one another to survive, and that was what ultimately prevented them from ever forming a true alliance.

Pecada crept through the first chambers, lit only by a few scattered oil lamps; the scent of herbs and oils hung heavy in the stifling air. The clan’s priestesses were preparing the blessed oils with which the tributes were to be anointed before the rituals, when the Path would be opened the next day. The mixture of essential oils and fresh herbs they used smelled beguiling; the psychoactive ingredients, selected for their numbing effect, ensured that the tributes lost their fear and neither resisted nor hesitated when they were finally led to the slaughter. The positive side effect ‒ that they felt no pain during the final ritual when the Shepherd ended their existence on this plane ‒ was a bonus that was all too gladly accepted. It was the only mercy the Tigers could offer their tributes.

The priestesses, who produced the oils and came into contact with them practically every day, had by now become largely immune to their effects; Pecada, however, could do nothing but inhale the sweet scent. And so she soon felt her mind begin to cloud over and a certain euphoria spread through her. She turned a corner into a small passageway that led her deeper into the priesthood’s quarters and ritual chambers. Fortunately, she no longer had to search for one of the priestesses; instead, she was spotted by one of them, who stopped what she was doing and called out to her.

“What are you doing here at this hour, Pecada?”

The priestess asked, and the Khan’s concubine turned to her with a smile. It was Rayas, sitting in one of the small alcoves that dotted these rooms, grinding dried herbs in a mortar. The priestess could tell from Pecada’s posture, her dazed gaze, and her relaxed smile just how much the miasma of the oils was already affecting her leader’s mistress. She struggled to stifle a giggle as she set the mortar aside and rose from her seat to walk over to Pecada.

“Oh dear, you’re already quite intoxicated, aren’t you?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but they knew each other well; outside of their official roles and duties, they were close friends. Otherwise, Rayas would likely have been much more cautious and respectful toward such a high-ranking member of the Khan’s harem. But since they were quite close, she took Pecada’s hand and led her deeper into the sanctuary, away from the thickest miasma. The giddy tigress let herself be led without resistance and giggled softly now and then.

“I… I have to speak with the high… hmmm… she’s not actually that tall… hnhnhnhn… I have to speak with the priestess… gnihihihihi… the Khan sent me; he’s not allowed to… come…”

She finally managed to say, though she couldn’t stop giggling. Rayas nodded understandingly; she had already suspected something like this. None of the tigers who didn’t absolutely have to be in the ritual chambers came here of their own accord, at least not in the days leading up to the opening of the Path. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; some of the youngsters would sneak into the forbidden wings now and then to stick their noses into the oil cauldrons, only to be thrown out again by the guards… though usually only “after” they’d gotten what they’d come for. No one really minded.

On her way deeper into the labyrinth of small corridors and chambers, Rayas led Pecada past the individual cells of the priestesses, toward the baths. Even though the priestesses normally used the temple’s public baths, there were still a few basins reserved exclusively for the priesthood. One of these basins was the High Priestess’s private bath, where she performed the ritual purifications required before each of the more important rituals. The two tigresses came to a stop in front of the simple door separating the corridor from the bath behind it, and Rayas turned to the concubine. She studied Pecada closely, looking for signs that the effects of the oils had already worn off.

“Are you feeling better?”

The priestess asked quietly, and her companion nodded silently while scratching her head sheepishly.

“Yeah, sort of, but that stuff is really strong, isn’t it?”

Pecada replied, her voice still slurring slightly and her movements appearing slightly uncoordinated, but Rayas merely nodded.

“Well, it has to be potent to serve the purpose for which we use it. But yes, if you’re not used to it, it can really knock you out.”

Whispered the priestess, always careful not to speak too loudly, not least out of respect for the many dead souls that roamed these halls, but above all for the High Priestess, who was on the other side of the thin wooden door. Pecada’s eyes darkened slightly at the thought of the purpose, but she nodded.

But before the two of them could lose themselves further in their thoughts, they heard the high priestess’s soft voice muffled through the door:

“You two are too loud to go unnoticed. Come in.”

She didn’t sound angry, more tired, but both Rayas and Pecada flinched nonetheless. They both felt as if they’d been caught in some sort of prank and were embarrassed. Rayas was the first to regain her composure and cautiously opened the door. The small chamber they now entered was illuminated by a kind of bioluminescent algae that covered nearly all the walls, its pale green glow lending the room an eerie, almost ethereal atmosphere. In the center of the room was a small plunge pool filled with water that seemed to glow with the same greenish-blue light as the algae. The High Priestess lay completely naked but relaxed in the pool, soaking in the cold, shimmering liquid. Her eyes were closed, and she did not even open them when the two tigresses knelt beside the pool with their heads bowed.

“I know it is you, Rayas, but whom have you brought with you?”

She asked in a whisper, her voice but a breath in the silence of the small chamber. Rayas did not lift her head as she replied:

“Yes, it is I who disturbs your holiest of all rituals, High Priestess. I have brought Pecada Dulce, the Great Khan’s consort. She has urgent matters to discuss with you; otherwise, she would have waited until your bath was finished, High Priestess.”

Rayas whispered softly. Now the High Priestess slowly opened her eyes and carefully lifted her head from the small pillow on which it had rested, so as not to have to lie directly on the stone of the basin’s rim. She blinked several times to let her eyes adjust to the light again and then looked at Pecada, who was kneeling beside Rayas.

“What brings you here, Pecada? What is so important that the High Priestess must interrupt her purification ritual before the opening of the Path?”

Asked the young tigress, and her voice still sounded neither angry nor annoyed; in fact, it sounded completely calm and composed. There was a reason why the old High Priestess ‒ before her death ‒ had chosen her as her heir and not one of the other, more experienced priestesses. She was as resilient under pressure as she was capable of recognizing what was essential and acting upon it, and her deeply calm demeanor helped everyone else in her presence keep a cool head. She was wiser than her age would suggest, for she was even younger than the Khan’s daughters. If the ancestors so desired, she would hold this office for many years to come and be an asset to the community.

Pecada bowed her head lower and paid her respects to the young tigress, for although she was more than twice the High Priestess’s age and was the Great Khan’s first concubine, her rank in their society was far lower than that of the High Priestess.

“The Great Khan sends me with his greetings, for he is not permitted to enter these realms. However, we need your knowledge in matters of the utmost importance for the peace of our realm. Unfortunately, these matters cannot wait until after the path is opened, for a new threat lurks beyond our borders, one that threatens to exact a heavy toll on our entire society ‒ not only on us, but also on the herbivores.”

She explained, the concern in her voice palpable. As she spoke, she harnessed Rayas beside her, and when Pecada was finished, the High Priestess nodded gently before slowly rising to her feet in her bath. The splashing of the water was unnaturally loud in the silence of the small chamber. As the young tigress rose from the water with an infinitely elegant movement, her wet fur clung tightly to her slender form. The High Priestess felt no shame in the traditional sense; she had seen so many animals naked, and many of her rituals required her to be naked herself, so she stood completely at ease before Rayas and Pecada, patiently waiting for the water to slowly drain from her fur without wringing it out. On the one hand, it was part of the ritual purification that the water had to drain on its own; on the other, it gave her time to reflect on what Pecada had told her. Only when the small torrents turned into trickles and finally into individual drops did the High Priestess reach for the simple robe that had been laid out for her next to the basin, but Rayas was quicker, picked it up, and helped her superior put on the robe. She received a respectful, grateful nod for her efforts before the High Priestess took her final step out of the basin.

“You may return to your duties, Rayas. I will take care of this matter.”

She whispered softly, nodding to the priestess, who bowed deeply once more and then withdrew silently from the chamber to return to her herbs. As she watched her go for a moment, the High Priestess smiled gently.

“I am glad to have her in my entourage. She is so eager and helped me so much, especially in the early days, to settle into my role. More than most others, she has helped me shoulder the burden that comes with this office.”

she explained quietly, looking at Pecada, who was still kneeling beside the basin with her eyes cast down.

“Rise, Pecada Dulce, Chosen of the Khan and Mother of his Daughters.”

It wasn’t often that anyone used her full name, and it was even rarer that anyone used her full title, but coming from her mouth, it sounded truly respectful. She rose cautiously and straightened up. Now that she stood beside the young High Priestess, she towered over her by nearly a head.

“And now tell me of this threat, so that I may prepare myself before the Great Khan takes me by surprise.”

she demanded in a gentle but serious tone, pointing toward the door as she made her way back to the upper chambers of the priesthood, where she would receive the Great Khan.

While Pecada and the High Priestess made their way to him, the Great Khan was already in the large courtyard, enjoying the silence. The courtyard had already been prepared for the arrival of the tributes the next day. The priestesses and priests had put everything in order, gathered up all the fallen leaves, and the herb and flower beds had been meticulously tended. The shrubs had been trimmed, and they had set up the benches where the herbivores could wait until it was their turn.

This courtyard was one of, if not the most beautiful and peaceful place in the entire temple. The atmosphere conveyed a sense of security and calm that one wouldn’t necessarily expect in a temple full of bloodthirsty tigers. The Khan walked slowly along the flower beds, letting his paw brush over the blossoms and his thoughts wander aimlessly. For the moment, there was nothing he could do but wait and enjoy the peace.

He looked around. Normally, this courtyard was also a bustling place during the day, though it was mostly the priestesses and priests who gathered here, while in the other courtyards the guards held drills and training matches. Nevertheless, it was never truly quiet here either; only on these nights, before the Path was opened, did this courtyard usually remain completely empty.

He remembered how, as a little boy, he had always played in this courtyard and run away from the priestesses whenever they tried to teach him some boring story again. He remembered how they had forced him every other week to stay away from his favorite playground, and how unfair he found it that the Tributes were allowed to use “his” courtyard, but he ‒ even though he was destined to become the next Great Khan, chosen to be the ruler of the jungle, a carnivore and clearly superior ‒ was not allowed to use it for play. The realization of his mistakes had come to him much later, and it was only a certain event that had truly opened his eyes. Now that he was older, more experienced, and himself the father of two wonderfully wild daughters whom he had to forbid from playing in this courtyard, he walked across the silent courtyard with entirely different eyes and ears, listening to the distant sounds of the jungle that reached him only muffled over the high walls, and observing the deep shadows that were everywhere in this temple.

He felt the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders more here than anywhere else in the temple. It was a burden he had felt growing heavier over the years, yet it was not an unpleasant one; rather, it was a constant reminder of what was at stake. He looked around again, saw the benches, and realized once more that he had, in essence, always been surrounded by death. This temple was permeated by death, which was probably also the reason why the tigers had settled here. He knew that it had not been the tigers who had originally built this structure. It had already existed long before the first tiger had set foot inside, and long before they had claimed it for themselves, the builders had already used it as a ritual site. Many of the chambers inside the temple had been used for ritual sacrifices ‒ far more than they had ever used them for such purposes ‒ but the deep red patina the granite had taken on over time betrayed what the rooms had originally been used for. Blood had always flowed in this temple, and it continued to do so.

They were the embodiment of death, and this temple was the place where death made its home. It was a place of death, a place where animals were slaughtered. He wouldn’t change that…

He was deep in thought as he crept around an ancient stone altar, running his hand over its rough, weathered surface. It had been placed in the middle of the courtyard by the original builders, and even though its surface had weathered heavily over the centuries, its function was unmistakable.

In ancient times, the sacrifices had been performed right here, in the open air and visible to everyone.

He ran his finger over the surface, tracing the faint lines that were now barely discernible, and a chill ran down his spine. Whoever had built this temple had once been the embodiment of death, had reveled in murder, and had ended countless lives within these walls. They didn’t know what had driven the original inhabitants of this structure away long ago, and no one knew for certain, but the Great Khan was fairly certain that no one had ever really investigated the matter. The only thing certain was that the temple had already been uninhabited for a very long time when the tigers finally claimed it for themselves.

“And now, now we are the embodiment of death…”

He murmured quietly to himself before looking around once more. For more than 200 years, the tigers had been the measure of all things; no one had been their match, but now, somewhere out there, beyond their borders, there was a power that would hunt even tigers. A power more deadly than death itself.

At this thought, a chill ran down his spine once more. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath before removing his hand from the altar and examining it.

“Here you are…”

Suddenly torn from his thoughts, the Great Khan literally flinched when he heard the High Priestess’s voice behind him. He turned to face the young tigress, who stood in a simple, long robe only about four paces away from him. The gentle smile gracing her lips showed just how much it obviously amused her that she had managed to sneak up on him so easily. His mate stood behind her, grinning from ear to ear. She apparently had to restrain herself from simply bursting out laughing when she saw the frozen expression on his face.

It was, however, only a brief, fleeting moment; then he regained his composure and bowed deeply to the High Priestess, who returned his gesture, though she did not bow quite as deeply as the Great Khan had. This was not out of disrespect for their leader, but because tradition demanded it. Although the Great Khan was nominally the clan’s head to the outside world, the High Priestess was the spiritual center of their culture and therefore deserved everyone’s respect, even if she was young enough to be his daughter.

She smiled gently as he straightened up again. She was aware that while all these gestures of respect were not meaningless, she would not receive the same respect from him or any of the other tigers as her predecessor had, primarily because of her youth and lack of experience. Most of the elders had watched her grow up and still saw her as that young, inexperienced thing who had yet to earn their respect. She had no doubt, however, that she would earn that respect in time.

“So, Khan, tell me, what advice are you seeking?”

She asked in her own calm, empathetic manner, her warmth and open demeanor already reminding him very much of her predecessor. It helped him somewhat to ease his tension and stress. Once again, he understood why the old High Priestess had chosen this young tigress as her successor. He opened his arms slightly before finally speaking.

“The border patrol has intercepted a group of intruders from the areas east of our territory. Three jaguars. So far, nothing unusual; even the fact that all three were in a desolate state is nothing we haven’t seen before. Two of the intruders were killed on the spot because they resisted capture, but the third surrendered without a fight and was brought to the temple for interrogation. That, too, would normally be nothing I’d bother you with, but what he’s telling us about the events beyond our borders is causing me great concern.”

He began his account of what had taken place earlier in the throne room. He spoke softly and tried to keep his voice steady, but his agitation was still clearly palpable. His listener listened attentively and nodded from time to time to show that she was following him.

“The prisoner reports a new threat spreading from the mountains to the east. He describes a new kind of predator, which he called two-legged hunters, without fur of their own and with pale skin. They wore the hides and furs of their prey; whether for camouflage or protection, we do not know for certain. They fight from a distance, without pride or honor, using weapons that ‒ according to him ‒ spew fire and thunder. They hunt everything and everyone, and when they kill an animal, they take only the fur and trophies, but leave the meat behind.”

he continued his account, and the High Priestess gently raised her hand as he neared the end, signaling that she wanted to interject. When he finally reached the end of his report, he nodded and waited patiently. Meanwhile, the High Priestess raised her hand to her chin and pondered what had been said. Again and again she tapped her chin, looked up at him, and began to reply, only to break off each time. She turned around, took a step or two, only to turn back to him again. Finally, she shook her head.

“Hmmm, but why don’t they eat their prey? They must be carnivores, after all ‒ why else would they go hunting?”

It was more of a loud musing as the High Priestess turned and motioned for both the Great Khan and Pecada to follow her. She led them slowly back to the priestesses’ chambers. When they reached the large red wooden door with the stylized tiger skull, however, the Great Khan hesitated for a moment, which the High Priestess noted with satisfaction. She looked over her shoulder and nodded gently.

“This time, you may accompany us into the priestesses’ chambers, for what I am about to show you might help you find the information you seek.”

she explained quietly, waiting for the guards to open the door for her before slipping through the opening, followed by Pecada and finally the Great Khan, who nodded once more to his guards.

“As you surely know, we tigers are not the first to inhabit this structure. There was at least one other civilization before us. We don’t know all that much about them, for the runes and wall paintings are already too weathered in places, and translating them into our language is difficult even under ideal conditions.”

She continued as she led her through the large reception hall to a mural that covered nearly the entire back wall of the room. In places, the relief had been worn away beyond recognition by centuries of weathering and study by the clan’s acolytes.

It wasn’t that the Great Khan hadn’t seen this relief before as a child, but back then it had simply been an intriguing work of art that had held no further significance for him. Now, many years later and with the suspicion of a threat looming in the background, it had a completely different effect on him.

The High Priestess, standing next to him, pointed to some highly stylized figures on the upper right side of the relief.

“We’re pretty sure these figures are jaguars. The implied claws, the fangs, and the spots on their bodies basically leave us with no other conclusion.”

She explained as she pointed out the individual features. She then pointed to some depictions on the other side of the mural.

“Those over there ‒ we’re also pretty sure they represent water buffalo. The large horns, the massive bodies, and the fact that they’re clearly eating grass and leaves also make this identification quite easy.”

she continued, finally pointing to some rather faded figures at the bottom of the artwork.

“We’ve always thought these might be tigers, but we were never entirely sure, since the depictions are quite weathered and the details are, at best, rather vague. However, since the figures are bipedal, carry some sort of weapon, and have the appearance of hunters, our Acolytes assumed they were depictions of tigers. We know for certain that wolves are depicted differently…”

she added, stepping back from the mural to allow her leader and his companion a closer look.

“…but considering what the prisoner told you, I would assume that the figure depicted here might even be the creatures he described. We know that neither jaguars nor buffalo used tools at that time, and we can’t be so sure about ourselves, since we have no documented history of our clan from that period. “That’s why we were glad we could use these murals and runes as a reference and build on that. But it’s quite possible that we, too, weren’t using tools yet at the time this relief was created.”

She explained calmly as she turned toward the throne where she would sit the next day to receive the tributes. It was covered from top to bottom with runes, inscriptions, and reliefs. She circled the throne, carved from a single stone, and ran her fingers over the worn runes, muttering something incomprehensible to herself and seemingly searching for something.

As Pecada continued to examine the relief in detail, the Great Khan turned to her and watched the High Priestess for a moment before speaking.

“Do you believe these are the same hunters who are now coming from the eastern mountains?”

He asked quietly, respectfully, as he slowly made his way over to the throne to examine these runes and inscriptions as well. The young tigress looked at him and shrugged.

“I can’t say that with absolute certainty… not yet. I’d have to see one of them to confirm it with more confidence. As you can see, the depictions are highly stylized and not exactly accurate, but I’d say it’s reasonably likely that these new predators your prisoner reported are the same creatures seen in these murals and mentioned throughout the runes.”

She replied softly, as she ran her hand over a few runes and traced their weathered lines.

“Nea-Phi-Lim … at least that is the pronunciation we have found to be the most accurate for these runes. That is how they referred to themselves in the texts. It is not easy to translate, but one meaning is ‘Tyrant-Slayer.’”

She spoke softly, with an almost reverent tone that barely masked the excitement stirring within the High Priestess. The Great Khan listened intently, perhaps even more so than he had at any time before.

“Neaphilim … ?!”

He murmured, softly at first, then repeated the name again, louder …

“Neaphilim … !?”

It was almost as if he had to savor the word first, test its weight, before turning back to the young tigress standing on the other side of the throne.

“Hmm … but what do you mean by saying that they refer to themselves that way in the runes?”

The High Priestess smiled gently and gave him a moment to answer the question for himself. It actually took only a moment for the realization to hit him, but then he looked around the chamber in shock yet awe, letting his gaze wander over the reliefs and runes that covered practically every surface of this room. Finally, his eyes found their way back to the High Priestess, who nodded quietly in confirmation.

“Well, yes, most likely it was they who built this temple in the distant past. Back when we were no more than wild animals killing one another without rhyme or reason. They could be thousands of years ahead of us. The reliefs depict these creatures with simple tools ‒ spears, knives, and the like. Tools made of wood and stone, like the ones we still use today. And we wouldn’t be able to build a temple like this, let alone carve this stone in this manner. The murals are older than our civilization. By the Ancestors, who knows what they’re capable of now? You mentioned that they use weapons that spew fire and thunder and can fight from a distance…”

She explained, her words trailing off as she circled the throne to stand before the Great Khan. Her demeanor conveyed calm confidence, but her eyes allowed a glimpse deeper into her soul, beyond the carefully constructed facade, revealing her uncertainty and fear. Her leader took in what she said and thought it over; finally, he nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, you’re right. If they were able to build this temple long before we were even capable of using simple tools, then they’re probably far ahead in everything else as well, not least in warfare. Nevertheless, we cannot and will not simply yield to this threat and retreat without a fight. We have too much to lose, and that applies not only to us; the herbivores in our territory have also invested too much to get to this point. We have all fought too hard to build this society and this civilization; it may not yet be perfect, but it is the closest thing to a utopia of anything that has ever existed before.”

He said with conviction, and both the High Priestess and Pecada agreed with him. The latter slowly approached him from behind and placed her hands on his broad shoulders. The moment he felt her delicate hands, his posture softened, and he looked over his shoulder at her.

“Well, my beloved, what shall we do now?”

She asked softly, her ears flattened, with a worried look, practically taking the words right out of the High Priestess’s mouth. The Great Khan pressed his lips together and considered his options, placing his hand on hers before making a decision.

“Nothing. For the moment, there’s not much we can do. We’ll wait until the jaguar has recovered at least a little before we can interrogate him again. In the meantime, border patrols will be doubled. We’ll have to gather more information. We can’t just go into this confrontation blindly; that would be our certain doom. I would really appreciate it if you and your priestesses could do a little more research in the runes and archives; perhaps you can find something else that makes more sense in light of these new insights. Every little detail could help.”

He spoke his thoughts truthfully. He had to radiate calm and self-confidence; he was the Great Khan, the leader of this clan, and if he now projected weakness or uncertainty, it could have devastating consequences. The High Priestess nodded slightly.

“I will have the acolytes search the ancient writings, but first we must tend to the Path. The rites and traditions must be upheld, for they are the foundation upon which this society is built. After tomorrow, when everything is settled, we will focus on the research as best we can.”

the young tigress replied in a calm but firm voice that brooked no contradiction, whereupon the Great Khan bowed slightly.

“Of course, High Priestess, we cannot allow the peace with the herbivores to be broken in any way.”

The addressee returned the gesture respectfully and then gently gestured toward the door that would lead her back to the outer chambers of the temple, away from the priestesses’ quarters.

“Very well. Then everything has been said and done for the moment. I would be very grateful if you would now take your leave, for I ‒ and surely my other priestesses as well ‒ still have many preparations to complete for tomorrow’s rituals.”

It wasn’t that she sounded impatient or even indignant ‒ quite the contrary ‒ but she was nonetheless practically shooing the two of them out of her quarters. The Great Khan knew better than to defy the High Priestess; instead, he bowed slightly once more and complied with her request not to disturb her any longer that night. Slowly but without dawdling, they made their way back to the large, red double doors that led them out into the courtyard, but even before they reached the doors, they were already being opened by the guards.

They left the quarters and thanked the guards before retiring to their own chambers. They would rest, for at the moment there was simply nothing else they could do. Now they had to wait until the prisoner had recovered enough for them to question him again.

The days following the first encounter with the captured jaguar passed relatively quietly. The Khan’s orders had been issued, and the machinery was slowly getting into gear. The Great Khan’s warriors set out to secure the borders, while inside the temple, life went on more or less as usual.

The leader of the Tigers stood at one of the windows in one of the temple’s highest chambers, once again surveying the surrounding jungle. The scene before him was that of a vast, green ocean that seemed to be frozen in the midst of motion. The gently undulating landscape, with its rolling hills and valleys, was reminiscent of the gentle waves of a peaceful ocean, interrupted only by the occasional columns of smoke indicating where the various tribes of herbivores had established their settlements.

This peaceful impression was deceptive, however, as the Great Khan knew all too well. Beneath the undulating canopy of trees that spanned the jungle like a roof, it was still a dangerous place, even now that the feud between the herbivores and the tigers had largely been settled. In this impenetrable thicket, there were still many ways to get hurt or even die, even without a carnivore’s claws coming into play.

Poisonous plants, insects whose bites could transmit terrible diseases, swamps and quicksand, but also simply the tropical heat, which could get to you faster than you’d like. If you didn’t know exactly how to find your way in this green hell, you were already dead before you even realized it.

Nevertheless, he loved “his” realm. He had never left their part of the jungle; there had never been any need to do so. There was more than enough food in this territory, and so far they had never really been in danger ‒ at least not since they had made the pact with the herbivores.

Even the incursion of other carnivores from outside their realm was a rare and distant problem. The jungle stretched far beyond their borders, and the areas beyond were just as rich in food and other resources. There was no reason to expose oneself to the danger of being caught and killed by their border patrols. However, the tribes and clans out there had never been fortunate enough to form a similar pact among themselves, and so they continued to live in the old way… hunters and the hunted. A careful balance between predators and prey had to be maintained; otherwise, the system would collapse sooner or later.

So far, everything had worked out quite well; for over 200 years they had enjoyed this supposed idyll and hadn’t really worried about whether things would be the same the next day. And now they were in danger. In real danger.

He had decided to visit his prisoner once more to interrogate him again. His healers had assured him that the jaguar was back in good health and that his wounds, tended to by them and the priestesses, were healing quickly and well. They had provided him with enough food so that he had regained some of his lost muscle mass.

Now he was once again a fearsome opponent, an enemy best not to be underestimated, for otherwise he would tear one to pieces in close combat.

He was still too weak to pose a real threat, but he was recovering quickly, and soon he would be a challenge for the Khan’s guards if he were given even the tiniest chance. For the moment, however, the priestesses assured him, he was quite content not to tempt fate. The jaguar knew full well that he was only being kept alive because he was still useful, and as soon as that changed, he would surely be executed. That much had already been revealed to him. It would be a public execution, a spectacle to further secure the trust of the herbivores.

A fate the warrior would prefer to avoid if possible, if only they would let him.

Accompanied by his daughters, the Great Khan descended into the temple’s dungeon. The dungeon was a relic from a time before the pact with the herbivores. During the war, they had kept herbivores here ‒ those they had captured during the battle ‒ until they were gradually put to use as training material for the young warriors. After the pact, the cells had effectively fallen into disuse, and the few incidents in which one of the tigers had committed an offense were usually handled differently.

In fact, the jaguar was the first “guest” the Khan’s guards had guarded in these parts in many decades, and it appeared he would likely be staying a while longer.

As the Great Khan and his daughters entered the cell block, the lone guard stationed at the door to the prisoner’s cell rose from his stool, only to immediately bend the knee. The leader of the Tigers stepped closer and acknowledged his subordinate’s gesture of respect by placing a hand on his shoulder and urging him to rise again.

“Rise. We have come to visit our guest. How is he doing?”

He asked in a quiet yet clear tone, certain that the jaguar in the cell could hear him just fine. The guard rose again and nodded obediently.

“The prisoner is in good condition, considering the circumstances. The healer was here this morning and tended to his wounds. They are healing well, and he will most likely make a full recovery; however, the priestess pointed out that we must keep him occupied somehow, as he will otherwise likely suffer greatly from boredom.”

The tiger indicated, whereupon the Great Khan nodded thoughtfully.

“Very well, I am pleased that he is recovering. When push comes to shove, we may need his fighting strength. I will see later if we can do anything to alleviate his boredom, but first, open the cell; I want to speak with him.”

He demanded in a calm, commanding tone; outwardly, the Great Khan appeared calm and composed, but as the guard turned toward the door, he nevertheless tensed up. The tiger reached for the bolt and drew his mace from his belt.

“You have a visitor, Talon, step back from the door. The Great Khan wishes to speak with you!”

The guard growled through the door, though it sounded less aggressive than one might have first assumed. The jaguar had remained calm the entire time, and now that four capable Tigers stood before the door, he would certainly not attempt to flee. Nevertheless, the guard waited a moment longer before finally pulling back the bolt and slowly opening the cell door. The inmate sat quietly on his cot, his elbows resting on his knees, and looked toward the door. Since he made no move to shift or attempt anything else, the tiger nodded and let the Great Khan and his daughters enter the cell.

The Great Khan looked into the cell, and his gaze met the jaguar’s. Now that he was clean and most of his superficial wounds had nearly healed, only the bandages covering his deeper wounds distracted from his impressive physique. While the Tigers of his clan built their muscles through training and sparring, allowing them to target specific areas, the jaguar was a picture of the body shaped by a lifelong struggle for survival. He was tall, at least two meters, his muscles defined and wiry, less statuesque than the tigers’ but more stripped down to the essentials. That didn’t make him a lesser opponent, quite the contrary. His small, round head housed intelligent eyes, and there was no doubt that he was assessing his chances against the Khan and his daughters.

There was a brief moment of tension before the Khan ducked through the low cell door and stood up straight again inside the cell. His daughters followed him and stood beside him, while behind them the door was closed again and the bolt was pushed back into place.

Now that they were locked up with the jaguar, the cell suddenly felt much, much smaller, but the Great Khan did not want to show any weakness or uncertainty and approached his prisoner. In the middle of the cell, however, he stopped to give his “guest” a little breathing room.

“Warrior, I’m glad to see you’re in good shape. I hope you appreciate my hospitality.”

He began, skipping the usual exchange of pleasantries while keeping his tone jovial. The jaguar responded by sitting up straight and looking his counterpart in the eye. It was a small, easily transparent act of defiance toward the leader of the Tigers, one that he, however, easily withstood. Since he received no direct answer, the Khan continued without breaking eye contact with the jaguar for even a blink.

“You have not yet told me your name, only refused to accept the title: Talon. I would prefer to learn the name of the jaguar sitting across from me.”

He sounded benevolent, calm, and composed, whereupon it was the jaguar who broke eye contact, first nodding slowly and then glancing at the Khan’s younger daughter, Emily.

“In my clan, I was known as Garra Ligera, but you can simply call me Garra.”

His voice had regained its strength and volume, as one would expect from a warrior of his stature, and yet he spoke softly, almost quietly, for the small room they were in required no loud voices. He had a gentle baritone whose lack of harshness or roughness didn’t quite fit the image of a prisoner currently being interrogated by his guards. The Great Khan acknowledged his statement with another nod.

“Garra Ligera, a good name for a proud jaguar.”

The Great Khan acknowledged without envy, lowering his voice to Garra’s level before glancing briefly at his daughters, who had scattered to the corners of the cell, while he himself took a seat on the small stool that served as the second seat in the room. Now that he was at eye level with his prisoner, he actually felt a certain kinship with him. They were both at the very top of the food chain, both carnivores, big cats, proud warriors… and yet they were the complete opposites of one another.

“So Garra, I’ve come to speak with you once more about these strange hunters. I want to hear your honest, unvarnished opinion of them. Would the jaguars or the tigers be capable of driving these alien creatures back into the mountains… forcing them back into their lairs, or even destroying them entirely?”

He explained the reason for his visit and his question, the answer to which he was prepared to wait for patiently. Garra slowly leaned back against the cold stone wall behind him and thought. His gaze wandered slowly from Amelia to Emily and finally back to the Great Khan. They were all in peak physical condition, at the height of their abilities and highly trained ‒ of that he was certain ‒ but none of them had ever really had to fight for anything, neither for food nor for sheer survival. In the end, he slowly shook his head.

“Great Khan, as highly as I regard your abilities and those of your clan, and as much as I praise those of a member of my own race, I must admit that these enemies must not be taken lightly under any circumstances. Their ability to kill with unerring accuracy from great distances is terrifying. I know of several tribes that have tried to fight them, but none of them has yet succeeded in killing even one of these elusive hunters. Every time one of them faced the retaliation of his prey, he had already vanished before his pursuers reached the spot from which his attack had been launched. All that remained was the stench of burnt sulfur and singed flesh.”

Garra explained, looking down at the ground as he clenched his fists tightly. The Great Khan took in the information silently and thought about it for a moment.

“Have you ever seen one of them in person, or experienced firsthand what you’ve just told me?”

He finally asked, trying to keep any skepticism out of his voice, but the jaguar shook his head again.

“No, I must admit that I myself have never encountered one of these fiends. Everything I know, I know only from hearsay, but I trust ‒ or rather, I have trusted ‒ the sources. And before you ask: My wounds did not come from one of their attacks; otherwise, I most likely wouldn’t be sitting here right now. But what I have seen with my own eyes are the effects of their attacks. No one survives such a wound.”

Garra replied quietly, still shaking his head, whereupon the Great Khan pressed his lips together and nodded slowly.

“So none of us would stand a chance against these… enemies on our own. Would you suggest, then, that our clans join forces?”

He uttered what had been unthinkable until that very moment with such casualness that it caught the jaguar so completely off guard he could only gasp for air and straighten up to his full height before looking at the Great Khan in utter shock, while his daughters stared at the tiger behind his back with equal bewilderment.

He was satisfied with the reaction his statement had elicited from both Garra and his offspring. He nodded slightly and raised his clawed finger to demand the others’ attention once more.

“Listen to me, Garra, and listen well, for I do not offer this to you lightly. The very fact that I am offering this to you at all is a grave violation of everything my ancestors have built over the past centuries. If my assessment of the situation did not align so closely with yours, I would likely never have considered this offer, but I fear that my clan alone will not be able to withstand the onslaught of these alien beings. I fear we will need all the help we can get, even if that means burying old feuds and starting new wars. Only then will we be able to drive this ancient enemy out of this, our jungle, once and for all.”

As he began his explanation for this apparent betrayal of the pact his clan had made with the herbivores, his voice was little more than a whisper. It was almost as if the weight of the implications of those words were crushing the mighty tiger beneath them. Meanwhile, Garra looked at him, still unsure what to make of this offer and the explanation behind it, but he didn’t get a chance to answer the Khan or comment on his statement before the tiger continued:

“Of course, we haven’t been able to gather all that much information yet; the time was too short, and we didn’t even know where to start, but I am ready to share the little information we were able to gather with you.”

Explained the Great Khan, and now the jaguar grew curious.

“Our priestesses and the clan’s acolytes have researched the archives and, based on their new findings, have studied the murals and reliefs once more, and we believe we’ve uncovered some troubling things.”

He added, taking a deep breath, for the information he was about to share with Garra was, in essence, top secret, and not even his own daughters had known of it until now.

“As you surely know, it wasn’t the Tigers who originally built this temple. When we claimed this structure for ourselves, it had already been abandoned for centuries, but the original builders of this temple complex left behind many murals, runes, reliefs, and inscriptions for posterity, in which they described their daily lives and their own history.”

These were well-known facts that even Garra was aware of, and as he nodded, the Great Khan continued:

“We compared your description of these foreign hunters with the descriptions and depictions here in the temple and have concluded that it is very likely that the hunters you describe and the builders of this temple must be one and the same. They called themselves Nea-Phi-Lim back then, or ‘Tyrant Slayers.’”

The Great Khan concluded his explanation for the time being and let what he had said sink in. He could hear Emily gasping for air behind him, while Garra seemed to be deep in thought, but finally he looked seriously at the leader of the Tigers.

“I’d like to see those murals…”

While the Great Khan was having a little chat with his prisoner, the guard had already been on full alert for days. They reinforced the border patrols, stationed more Tigers at the obvious access points to their section of the jungle, and tightened the schedule for their patrols. Meanwhile, the captain had had a command post set up somewhere between the eastern border and the temple, from which he coordinated all operations.

The atmosphere was tense, and not all the tigers were fully aware of why the Great Khan had sounded this massive alarm. Most knew that they had captured a jaguar and that it had not been executed immediately, as was usually the case, but only a very few knew the exact details. There had not been such a mobilization in generations, and so most of the tigers were agitated and nervous. Even the captain of the guard, who was said to be unflappable, paced back and forth in his quarters like a caged predator, constantly awaiting new news from the border region.

It was at this point that the first herbivore tribes noticed that something was wrong. Since most of the herbivores maintained trade relations with tribes outside their territory, their trade caravans now frequently came into contact with the border patrols. Normally, these caravans rarely encountered tigers, for the jungle’s borders were long and impassable, and the tigers had, if at all, only a maximum of 200 tigers available to guard the border. Now, day in and day out, the herbivores encountered at least one squad of the big cats at virtually every obvious entrance, and they no longer simply waved them through but inspected the caravans, wanting to know where they came from and where they were going.

It wasn’t really a big deal, but it was still unusual and unsettling, especially since the tigers were on duty in full armor and armed. Usually, they carried at most a spear or a mace as they roamed the jungle searching for intruders, but at least they were still friendly and kept a respectful distance from the merchants, as they didn’t want to frighten their allies. Most of the merchants, however, found this massive display of troops and equipment highly suspicious, and one of them, a water buffalo, finally plucked up the courage to speak to the border patrol that had stopped him just past the border to inspect his cart.

“May I ask what you’re looking for?”

The merchant began, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible, before continuing without waiting for the tigers’ reply.

“There must be a reason for all this. I don’t usually see the Great Khan’s guards patrolling the borders so vigilantly. Please don’t get me wrong ‒ I’m extremely grateful that you’re doing your part to protect us all ‒ but it does worry me to see so many tigers out here, especially in full armor and armed.”

He made his concerns clear and bowed apologetically to the Tigers standing before him, who looked at one another. It was perfectly obvious that they first had to consider what they were allowed to tell him and what they were not. That fact alone fueled the Water Buffalo’s fear. When they finally replied, it was clear beyond a doubt that they were hiding something from him.

“Listen, we can’t tell you anything; all our orders are, of course, strictly confidential, but we would advise you to speak with the captain of the guard. He is currently at the command outpost, east of the river valley. If anyone can tell you anything about this, it will be him.”

Explained the first tiger, pointing his hand in a direction that roughly indicated the command post. The buffalo, unconvinced by what he had just heard, looked at them in disbelief, but he also knew he was in no position whatsoever to demand anything from them, so he turned around and looked in the direction the tiger had pointed.

“Very well, then I suppose I’ll have to pay your captain a visit.”

Replied the water buffalo disappointedly, while the tigers nodded and also turned toward the command post. Just at that moment, they saw another tiger coming toward them along the narrow path through the thicket of the jungle. He balanced a spear over his shoulders, to which several large pieces of meat had been attached.

“Oh, lovely, lunch is on its way…”

Remarked the second tiger with a purr, and they saw the buffalo turn pale. The sight of the third tiger approaching them with that large amount of fresh meat seemed to unsettle him after all. The newcomer was already waving at them from a distance, smiling mischievously.

“Did someone here order a buffalo steak for lunch?”

The tiger asked from a distance, making no secret of the fact that he was amused by the water buffalo’s reaction ‒ the buffalo had hurried to pull its cart along the path as soon as it heard the porter’s call. The cart rumbled past the smiling tiger and disappeared behind him into the dense jungle. The porter watched him go for a moment, then pointed his thumb over his shoulder and turned to his clanmates.

“But what’s wrong with him?”

he asked with a chuckle, taking the spear from his shoulders to offer the meat to his companions. Gratefully, the two took their share and bit into it heartily. Even as he chewed with relish, the first tiger finally replied.

“He asked why we’re out here in full force and with all our gear. He’s worried because he knows something’s up.”

At that, the newcomer turned once more in the direction the buffalo had rushed off in.

“Did you tell him anything?”

He asked, and suddenly his smile vanished, but the second tiger shook his head.

“No, we sent him to the captain.”

Replied the tiger, whereupon the porter nodded and shouldered his spear again. He still had a few more patrols to supply before he could return to the temple.

“Very good. All information regarding this is still classified. We must not tell anyone about it; that would cause panic, and we can’t use that right now. New orders will come with the changing of the guard.”

The border guards nodded and continued eating their rations while the messenger got his bearings.

“How far is it from here to the next post?”

he asked, and the first Tiger gestured vaguely in the direction where the next squad should be.

“I’d say about half an hour in that direction.”

The supply runner thanked him and immediately set off for his next stop. The other two watched him for a moment until he disappeared into the dense greenery of the jungle.

With borders as secure as the Tigers could make them in such a short time, and their clan on high alert, the Great Khan could do nothing but wait.

The High Priestess, meanwhile, had hesitated to lead the jaguar into the sacred ritual chambers; even in her, the prejudices were deeply rooted, but in the end she too had to admit that it was a necessary evil to let the spotted one into her sanctuary and show him the wall paintings and reliefs. At first reluctantly, but with increasing enthusiasm as time went on, she explained to him what they had already discovered, and as he proved to be a curious, attentive listener who asked increasingly intelligent and profound questions, the High Priestess began to take a certain liking to the jaguar. Eventually, Garra even discovered a few details that the priestesses had not noticed before or had perhaps even overlooked.

In the end, the High Priestess, the Great Khan, and Garra agreed that the builders of the temple, who called themselves Nea-Phi-Lim, and these hunters who were now coming down from the mountains were most likely one and the same beings, and that they were likely far more advanced than any of them.

Gritting his teeth, the Great Khan had then admitted that they would need every bit of help they could get, and even though it violated all the conventions they had agreed upon with the herbivores, he had made Garra an offer: He would let him go, so that he could round up as many jaguars as possible and bring them to the Tigers' Temple. The Great Khan would ensure they were provided for, equipped with weapons and armor, and trained and educated. He would grant them shelter and protection for the duration of this conflict, on the condition that they were willing to submit to his command. What would happen after the conflict, they would decide when the time came. They all agreed that neither the Tigers nor the jaguars would be able to deal with this threat on their own, but together ‒ provided Garra could find enough of his kind ‒ they would be able to defeat the attackers with the sheer weight of their numbers. At the same time, however, they were also certain that they would have to suffer heavy losses, for by the time they could force a decisive battle, these Nea-Phi-Lim would claim several more victims. And even if they finally confronted the new enemy, that battle would once again exact a heavy toll.

Without hesitation, Garra had agreed to set out to find as many of his kind as possible and then bring them back to the Great Khan ‒ or die trying. He was certain that his fellow jaguars would be willing to help, and perhaps ‒ just perhaps ‒ they would then manage to strike a similar deal with the herbivores in their part of the jungle as the tigers here had managed to do.

While the tigers prepared for a battle with an as-yet-unknown enemy, a conflict with an all-too-familiar foe was becoming increasingly likely. Word had by now spread among the herbivores that the tigers were in turmoil and that something bigger was afoot. More and more herbivores were visiting the command post, wanting to ask the captain exactly what was going on, for they all knew it wasn’t really a good idea to show up uninvited at the temple of the great big cats. Only someone with a direct death wish would dare make such a visit.

It was obvious that the Great Khan would have to address this problem sooner rather than later. After consulting with the High Priestess, he planned another meeting with the herbivores’ envoys. He sent messengers to invite all the tribes to gather once more in the Great Hall so he could brief them personally.

Unlike the last assembly, whose primary goal had been to intimidate the herbivores and coerce them into signing the new pact, this meeting was to take place in broad daylight. There would be significantly less fanfare than last time, and there would be no attempts at intimidation. A simple meeting, an extended audience with the Great Khan, during which he would explain the state of the empire and the threat posed by the Nea-Phi-Lim. No more, but also no less.

When the envoys arrived at the temple a few days later, they were greeted by several priestesses who led them into the temple, whose corridors felt strangely empty. Unlike last time, the path was not lined with tigers illuminating the hallways with their torches. The sun shone its light through the columns and windows, and the shadows that had seemed so deep and dark during their previous visit turned out to be shallow niches where the light rarely reached the corners. When the delegation reached the large double doors that would lead them into the great hall, the first guards the herbivores had seen that day were standing there. They were huge, muscle-bound tigers who, without hesitation, opened the doors for the priestesses and their companions and granted them entry into the hall.

In the great hall, a familiar sight greeted the delegates: the large table stood once again in the center of the hall, and the stone tablets bearing the names of the fallen had been placed all along the walls. Against the back wall stood the throne ‒ or rather, the three thrones ‒ on which the Great Khan sat, along with his two daughters, who were still unknown to the herbivores at that time. Behind Emily, to the Khan’s left, stood Pecada, whom most of the emissaries already knew from their last visit to the temple. To the Khan’s right stood another young tigress, whose long, flowing robe was adorned with colorful runes and ritual ribbons.

The priestess who had led the herbivores into the hall broke away from the group and approached the throne. When she was about two-thirds of the way there, she knelt before her leader and bowed her head. What surprised the herbivores was that it was not the Great Khan who allowed the priestess to rise again, but the young tigress to his right, who spoke to her in a lowered voice, in a dialect the delegates did not understand. When the priestess rose again, her movements were of infinite elegance, and after bowing once more before her leader, she withdrew from the hall almost silently.

As the great double doors closed behind the tigress, the dull thud of the heavy wooden doors was, for a moment, the only sound echoing through the hall.

The great hall was lit both by the fire bowls set up in the darker corners of the room and by the natural sunlight that seeped in through skylights high up in the walls, causing the dark granite from which the temple was built to glow. The atmosphere was calm, downright serene, compared to their last meeting, and yet the herbivores were a little excited. They stood around the large table in the middle of the hall, waiting for the Great Khan to finally tell them why they had actually come. But the leader of the tigers wasn’t ready yet; he was still waiting, letting them stew a little longer, for he loved the drama, and he wanted his guests to get at least a little nervous. After all, they were the tigers, the predators, the kings of the jungle, and the great villains. He loved to revel in their fear, and he knew they were afraid. Even today, after centuries of peaceful coexistence, it was still the case that when a herbivore encountered a tiger, it knew it was in danger. Instincts older than conscious thought dictated that they must fear the carnivores, for they were the hunters and the herbivores were the prey.

Only a select few were able to overcome these primal instincts and face a predator fearlessly. These were the natural-born leaders, but not a single one of the herbivores present was of that sort. Centuries of inbreeding and life in relative safety had weakened the genes that produced such natural leaders. These days, the herbivores chose their leaders and mates based on different criteria: Who offered the best advantages, who promised greener pastures and richer harvests? It was no longer about who could better protect the herd, even as the tigers stalked through the thicket; it was about who could fill the stomachs of their subordinates more comfortably. Of course, this was an advantage for the tigers, for in this way the herbivores were easier to keep, as they were now nothing more than livestock.

When he noticed the envoys slowly becoming a little restless, the Great Khan finally rose from his throne. He had a benevolent smile on his lips, though it still revealed his fangs, knowing full well the effect this usually had on his guests.

“And once again, I welcome you to my great hall.”

He let his dark, resonant voice fill the hall as he spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. When he wasn’t angry, the leader of the Tigers had a rather soothing tone of voice. A deep, full baritone, as befitted a great warrior in his position. He waited a moment until he was sure all attention was focused on him before continuing:

“Before we move on to today’s agenda ‒ the reason I invited you all here today ‒ I would like to introduce you to a few of my trusted advisors. From now on, until the time comes for me to step down from this, my throne, they will be by my side and will eventually succeed me.”

He began, lowering his voice slightly, as there was no need to speak so loudly now that he had the full attention of everyone present. At the mention of a change in leadership within the clan, the herbivores’ curiosity was piqued even more, and all eyes and ears were fixed on the five tigers standing on the small platform where the throne was situated. With an elegant gesture, the Khan pointed to his left, where Emily rose from her own throne and joined him.

“This is Emily, my younger daughter; she is second in line to the throne, though we all hope it never comes to the point where she must ascend the throne. Not that we don’t trust her to handle it, but it would be a true tragedy if her sister were to die before she could produce an heir.”

He explained, visibly proud of the young tigress standing beside him with a steely gaze. She let her eyes sweep over the assembly and finally nodded slightly. She was, like all big cats, beautiful, but her beauty could not hide just how deadly she could be. A murmur of approval rippled through the delegates, and the Khan nodded approvingly before gesturing to his right, where Amelia rose gracefully from her throne to take her place at her father’s side. She seemed calmer, more formal than her sister as she approached him with measured steps and looked out at the crowd with alert yet appraising eyes. The herbivores could literally see the pride of the Tiger leader grow now that his daughters flanked him.

“And this is Amelia, my eldest daughter and heir to my throne and my kingdom. When the time comes, she will carry on where I can no longer do so. She is a strong-willed, righteous, and beautiful young tigress; she is wiser than her young age would suggest. She will be a capable, far-sighted ruler. In fact, both of them will be more than capable of inheriting all this and leading the empire into a bright and prosperous future. Both have already pledged to honor our promises and agreements and to carry them forward to the best of their knowledge and belief for the greater good of our community.”

He continued, briefly placing a hand on each of his daughters’ shoulders before dismissing them back to their seats. On the other side of the great hall, the herbivores seemed to be slowly relaxing again. They nodded and murmured in agreement; it had not been customary for the Khan to introduce his successors, though it had also not been customary to hold assemblies in the temple at all until now. Most of the envoys were still skeptical of the whole affair, yet at the same time they couldn’t deny that there was something positive about learning a little more about what went on behind the temple’s otherwise closed doors.

While they were still pondering the implications, the third young tigress stepped forward, and to the surprise of all the herbivores, it was the Great Khan who knelt before her and bowed his head. She smiled gently and touched the Khan’s head lightly.

“Rise, my mighty warrior.”

She said softly in their own dialect. The delegates did not understand this dialect, but the warmth and love in the young tigress’s voice were still clearly audible, and as the Great Khan slowly rose again, she stepped before the assembled crowd. Her smile radiated the same warmth and empathy as the words she had addressed to the leader of the tigers.

“I am the High Priestess of this clan. I am the spiritual and cultural center of our community. In my capacity, I warmly welcome you to this temple, and I can assure you all that we are not here for one of those awkward icebreaker games. In addition to my diverse duties regarding our rites and customs, it is my duty, as the guardian of knowledge about our past and that of the jungle as a whole, to support our leader with my wisdom.”

She introduced herself, speaking in a voice as gentle and soothing as a fresh breeze on a tropical night, and yet a murmur rose from the ranks of the herbivores. Now that all the introductions were complete, the High Priestess stepped back to her place and the Great Khan resumed his leadership. With a calm but stern and reserved expression, he stepped forward a few paces and addressed those present:

“Very well, as the honorable High Priestess said, the welcome courtesies are unfortunately over. I, too, would prefer it if I could convene such gatherings simply to sit together and talk about the weather, or to debate whether it would make sense to expand and fortify the most important paths through the jungle, or whether there are enough drinking water sources for everyone. Please don’t misunderstand me; those would certainly be important issues that should be addressed at some point, but I think ‒ and I’m sure we all agree ‒ that these issues can be resolved in a much more direct, less bureaucratic way.”

He began his address, keeping his tone neutral and noncommittal, but then his expression darkened and he took another step forward.

“No. I have called you all here today because we face a threat the likes of which we have not seen since the Great War many generations ago.”

He continued in a firm voice, letting his gaze sweep across the table and meeting the eyes of everyone present. When he had finished his speech, a murmur arose among the herbivores, which prompted the Great Khan to smile once more. He could already guess what it was about and raised his voice again:

“Please, please, share your thoughts with us; use this opportunity to feel more like equals than subordinates. Should this threat truly materialize as it currently appears, it will be no less serious for you than for us.”

He urged the delegates, though there was surprisingly little sharpness in his voice, a fact that some of the herbivores immediately took note of. If there was a threat that caused even the mighty leader of the tigers to show humility before them, then it must truly be grave.

The two animals that had just been whispering to each other ‒ a water buffalo and an okapi ‒ immediately stopped their quiet conversation and turned to the Great Khan. A moment of awkward silence followed, during which the three animals sized each other up, then finally the water buffalo rose from his seat. He was a massive bull whose barrel-shaped body belied the strength he was capable of mustering, and his deep, thunderous voice filled the hall just as effortlessly as the Khan’s.

“Well, who’s to say you haven’t brought this threat upon yourselves by harboring this fancy prisoner here and feeding him the meat that our community has so generously donated to you and your clan? Mind you, so that his kind would NO LONGER eat us!”

cried the Buffalo, taking care not to sound too accusatory, while the Great Khan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had known that this topic would come up during the course of the evening, but he had hoped to make this confession a little later, once he had presented his evidence for his thesis. Now, however, the proverbial cat was out of the bag, and he had to deal with it. The worst part was that he couldn’t even blame them for it; after all, they had promised time and again that they would hunt down and drive away the other carnivores ‒ that was the ONE linchpin of their contract. He was just about to reply when the buffalo spoke up again and launched into a tirade:

“Only the ancestors know how often this has happened over the past 200 years without us noticing. If one of our own hadn’t just happened to see your guards dragging him through the jungle here, we would never have found out. And the fact that we haven’t found any new trophies at the borders yet shows that he hasn’t left this temple again. Presumably, that spotted one is feasting on one of us right now, right under our noses. Tell me, Tiger, how many of us have you fed to the outsiders over the centuries? How many have fallen victim to them, even though you swore to protect us from exactly that, so that this would never happen again? I bet your border guards were secretly hunting in the surrounding areas and were caught by them, and so that they wouldn’t kill them, our flesh is being delivered to these outsiders. Right under our noses, and we were all just too stupid, too naive, to ever question your motives, to ever doubt your convictions. Reprehensible, I say. It’s all reprehensible!”

the buffalo ranted, working himself into a rage. With every sentence he grew louder, and as he shouted out the final words, droplets of spit flew through the hall. He was convinced he was right, and since no one directly contradicted him, one couldn’t blame him. In fact, the Great Khan had let him talk and shout, remaining calm even though these accusations had hit him hard, for he knew that if he lost his temper now, he would only be pouring oil on a fire that was already blazing. Finally, when the Buffalo slammed his meaty fist down on the table with all his might, ending his speech with a thunderclap, the Great Khan raised his hands in a soothing gesture.

“Please, please, let us all remain calm and composed. The accusations you level against my ancestors, myself, and my daughters are very serious, but you also know that none of these accusations are truly justified. None, except for one, and even that is more or less easy to explain. No… I let you shout out your anger without interrupting you, even though my fingers were itching to do so, so now you will let me formulate my defense in peace and without interruption ‒are we clear on that? Decency demands it!”

the Great Khan began, raising his voice only slightly while adding a certain sharpness to it before continuing:

“Yes, it is true, we have taken in an outsider ‒ a jaguar, to be precise. He surrendered to the border guards, fully aware of what this meant for him. In fact, he was very surprised when he was not killed on the spot, like his two companions who did not surrender. The border guards deemed it appropriate to bring him to the temple so he could be interrogated; however, he was in such poor condition ‒ severely wounded and malnourished ‒ when he arrived here that we first had to tend to him so we could interrogate him later. And that is exactly what we did. We tended to his wounds and gave him something to eat, and yes, that included meat provided to us by the tributes for the greater good. As you all surely know, a carnivore can only survive on a strictly vegan diet for so long.”

The leader of the tigers explained as matter-of-factly as possible, while the water buffalo at the table snorted loudly; it was obvious that he was struggling to restrain himself and not simply pound his fist on the table and shout: “SEE… I TOLD YOU SO!”

The Great Khan simply ignored him, and before he could muster a reply, the tiger continued:

“But, as I said: This is the first and only instance in which something like this has ever happened, and I have no intention of making it a regular occurrence. The captured jaguar was on my agenda for this evening, and I had planned to explain this matter later, for the information we obtained from his interrogation deeply troubles me. After consulting my honorable priestesses, who confirmed some of the things the jaguar had told me, many more questions have arisen. Disturbing, frightening questions that we have not yet been able to answer conclusively. One thing is certain, however: we are facing a threat so great that it could simply wipe out our civilization as we know it in its entirety.”

He explained, while behind him the High Priestess nodded solemnly from time to time. The Khan’s voice remained largely calm and composed, but a familiar sharpness found its way back into his tone as he grew increasingly annoyed with the angry Bull at the end of the table. He knew he would have to proceed diplomatically this time and couldn’t simply hold the herbivores down, so he would allow him to vent his anger once more. He nodded to the bull, allowing him to speak, and the buffalo made a sincere effort to remain just as calm and matter-of-fact as the Great Khan. However, it was clearly difficult for him not to follow his nature and give free rein to his anger. He knew, however, that should a fight break out, the five tigers present would be more than enough to tear them to pieces, even unarmed.

“Great Khan, you yourself have admitted that you have torn down the very cornerstone upon which all of this is built. Our entire way of life, for over 200 years now, for so many generations. It doesn’t matter at all whether it was the first or the hundredth time ‒ it happened, and that is enough! And as far as I know, this prisoner is still alive! How can there be a greater affront than inviting us all here when the casus belli is still here, still eating our flesh? Right here…”

cried the Bull, pounding his finger on the table with all his might.

“…in these halls! We all live a life of peace and prosperity that we can only enjoy thanks to this agreement. An agreement whose rules we have always followed, whose terms we have accepted and fulfilled, always! And now we learn that YOU, of all people, have so recklessly disregarded it, and that after you’ve just recently changed it under the threat of violence and atrocities. Can you at least understand my ‒ our ‒ dissatisfaction? I… we feel betrayed. Betrayed and sold out.”

Despair mingled with the buffalo’s anger as he tried not to shout. When he came to the end, he snorted loudly, while the Great Khan nodded cautiously. He understood the Bull and the other herbivores; he could relate to how they felt, and if they hadn’t received this information from Garra, they likely would never have kept the jaguar alive this long. He would have been executed, like all the others before him. For the moment, however, he was still far too valuable to simply kill out of habit. He was certain they would still need him. He only hoped he could make this point clear to the delegates, but given how upset the bull was, he doubted it.

“I understand you, and I know how betrayed you feel, and to be perfectly honest, I would feel exactly the same way, but there is a reason why I acted this way. I didn’t want to cause a panic right from the start, so for now I’ve just had the border posts reinforced while we continued searching for clues. And we’ve found clues ‒ many, very disturbing clues. So please, let me explain; if there are still questions afterward, if anything is still unclear, then we can talk about everything.”

He began quietly, and when no one directly objected, he continued.

“Thank you. As you all surely know, even though we Tigers would gladly claim this achievement as our own and boast about it, we did not build this temple ourselves. When our ancestors claimed it for themselves, it had already been abandoned for a very long time. The jungle had almost reclaimed it, but we cleaned it up back then and made it habitable again. The fact that the stench of death clung to it even back then didn’t bother us then, just as it doesn’t bother us now. Unfortunately, many of the ancient writings and artifacts were lost back then, since no one knew what to do with them. After all, we were all much more primitive and wild back then than we are today.”

He explained, trying to ignore the snorting buffalo.

“However, this also means that someone else must have built this temple, and we can rule out with certainty that these were herbivores. The murals and reliefs, the inscriptions and runes that still exist from this period ‒ those that have survived the centuries ‒ paint a picture that corresponds quite closely to what the jaguar told us. From the inscriptions, from the little that can still be interpreted, we were able to conclude that these beings ‒ large, bipedal, fur- and featherless predators ‒ were already far more advanced back then than we are today. I can say with certainty that even today we are still not capable of erecting such a structure. Not even close, and neither can you. These unknown predators did it ‒ who knows how many generations ago ‒ before we claimed it for ourselves.”

The leader of the tigers continued, while behind him the High Priestess nodded in agreement, emphasizing his words. At the table, however, the bull could no longer hold back and threw his hands up.

“So what? Someone who was far ahead of us back then built this temple; that much is clear to all of us. There’s no doubt about that, but these creatures ‒ predators, call them what you will ‒ are gone. They were already gone long before you came here, and you’ve been here for a very long time. No one here can remember them; even if we were to search our own archives, we’d most likely find nothing left about these creatures ‒ it’s been that long. Not to mention that most of the old records are useless anyway because the ravages of time have eaten them away… and anything older than that is just myths and legends.”

The bull exclaimed excitedly, his words almost tripping over one another. When he then realized that the Great Khan wasn’t directly contradicting him, he flew into a rage again, the veins on his neck and forehead bulging as his face slowly turned deep red. Soon he was openly screaming his fury:

“You tigers are hiding behind these vague assumptions and interpretations, hoping to avoid any reprisals from us. But we will hold you accountable; you will be punished for this affront! I don’t know how yet… but I will personally ensure that we find a way to make you all bleed for this breach of contract!”

He wanted to rage on, but some of the other herbivores, fearing harsh retaliation for this outburst, tried to calm him down, though this worked only moderately well. Meanwhile, the Great Khan closed his eyes again and took another deep breath.

“Don’t worry; if this threat ultimately vanishes before our eyes, then I will face your judgment and accept whatever punishment awaits me. But I, and I alone, am to blame for all of this. None of my followers can be punished for this, except me. But until that time comes, let me tell you what this threat looks like today ‒ one that, by all appearances, has been slumbering high up in the eastern mountains all these years.”

It was an attempt to salvage the dire situation once more, and the Great Khan went to great lengths to remain calm, but the anger simmering just beneath the surface was already clearly palpable. For the moment, the delegates seemed to have the water buffalo under control, and so the leader of the tigers continued:

“During the interrogation, the jaguar told us that these new ‒ or old ‒ enemies come from the mountains in the east, though we cannot say for certain whether they actually originate from there or whether they have simply retreated there for some reason. What we do know, however, is that their hunting behavior suggests they have settled there, at least for the immediate future. They venture down from the mountains into the lowlands to hunt their prey, and they do so completely indiscriminately. Carnivores and herbivores alike, young and old, male and female, healthy or sick… nothing seems to matter. They kill everything and everyone that comes into their sight, always proceeding in the same manner. They attack from a distance with weapons that, according to the jaguar, spew fire and thunder and possess deadly penetrating power. Even hits that aren’t necessarily fatal almost always lead to a quick but very painful death. Yet these creatures don’t even seem interested in their victims’ flesh, for so far they’ve only ever skinned their prey and, when the opportunity arose, taken trophies like horns or teeth. They always left the carcass behind, however.”

He continued in calm, clear words, while the bull at the end of the table began to get worked up again. But before he could latch on, the Great Khan was already adding to the story.

“All of this corresponds to some extent with what we were able to glean from the murals and inscriptions in this temple. Although we haven’t found any descriptions of these weapons, considering how long ago these paintings were created, it’s entirely possible that they could have developed them in the meantime. Nevertheless, one thing is certain: they come from the mountains, and they come to kill. Everyone. No matter who. And then they retreat again. With every new hunt, they push a little further into the jungle, driving the inhabitants of the territories beyond our borders further back and toward us.”

He paused to let the gravity of his words sink in with the herbivores, and in the faces of most of them he could see the realization he had hoped for; only a few seemed still unwilling to believe him. As he continued speaking, there was an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice that was truly noticed only by Pecada and his daughters, who knew that he was now seething with rage inside.

“I see two existential threats looming over us all. They are still far away, but they draw nearer with each passing day, and they cannot be stopped. The first will be a wave of refugees as the animals in the eastern border regions flee from these hunters and will not be deterred by our territorial boundaries. We will have to find a way to deal with these refugees, for we will not be able to take them all in, yet at the same time we cannot turn them away either. Sooner or later, this situation will completely escalate. The second threat, however, is far more dangerous, for these predators will also find their way into this region. They follow the prey, and the prey leads them right here…”

The Great Khan gestured with both hands toward the ground before continuing.

“We do not know how many there are, but they are capable of killing even the largest water buffalo and the strongest jaguar from a distance, with weapons that can easily pierce even our finest war armor. None of us ‒ neither you, nor us, nor the jaguars from the eastern territories ‒ possess the ability to handle this threat alone. There are too few of us, and there is no time left to resolve this naturally.”

He got no further, for the water buffalo literally exploded. His fists thundered down on the table, which groaned under the immense pressure, before he roared at the leader of the tigers, completely unrestrained, across the table:

“I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU FILTHY PREDATORS WOULD STICK TOGETHER! LET ME GUESS: NOW YOU WANT US TO GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO BRING EVEN MORE OF THEM HERE. AND OF COURSE THESE CUNNING SPOTTED BEASTS HAVE TO BE FED TOO… SURE, WHY NOT? AFTER ALL, FEEDING 300 OF YOU TREACHEROUS, BLOODTHIRSTY KILLING MACHINES IS THE EASIEST THING IN THE WORLD FOR US! WHY SHOULDN’T WE INCREASE THE BURDEN EVEN FURTHER BY TAKING ON EVEN MORE OF YOU? IT’S NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU THAT YOU BROKE THE AGREEMENT ‒ NO, YOU ALSO WANT TO RUB SALT INTO THE WOUNDS!! WHAT? WHY? I’M RIGHT! LET ME GO!”

It took four of the other herbivores to pin the water buffalo down enough to prevent something worse from happening, for in the meantime Pecada had stepped behind the Khan and placed her hands on his shoulders, hoping to keep him calm. By now, it was clear to everyone that this meeting would not lead to a satisfactory outcome; even if the other herbivores could perhaps be persuaded, the few who, out of defiance ‒ or perhaps anger ‒ were absolutely opposed to any proposal made by the tigers would destroy any chance of consensus. The hatred and prejudice toward the big cats and everything they represented ran too deep. It wasn’t that the Great Khan didn’t even understand this; at the same time, the buffalo’s ignorance infuriated him.

The High Priestess joined Pecada and the Khan and whispered something to him, whereupon his features seemed to relax a little. He took a deep breath, pressed his lips together, and whispered back, whereupon the young tigress nodded gently and he turned his attention to the commotion unfolding at the end of the table. The bull, though by no means muscular, used his bulk to keep the others at a distance, allowing him to occasionally shout insults at the tigers. Meanwhile, the Great Khan began to move and approached the table. His movements seemed controlled but not truly relaxed; his tail, a typical indicator of his mood, whipped back and forth, and his fists clenched rhythmically with every step he took around the table.

“That’s what you get for trying to have a reasonable discussion with herbivores. That’s what happens when you try to act like a civilized being. That’s the result when you don’t have at least twenty warriors in your ranks. When you show humility in front of your so-called allies…”

he muttered more to himself than to anyone else as he slowly approached the bull. The other herbivores instinctively gave him a wide berth, but the water buffalo continued to rage unchecked. He saw the leader of the tigers coming toward him and roared his fury at him, which earned him a certain amount of respect from the Great Khan, even though the latter knew it was only sheer rage that gave the buffalo the courage to defy him like this. When he finally stood practically right in front of the enraged bull, the tiger ordered quietly:

“Let him go.”

This came so completely out of the blue that the herbivores couldn’t really react, which the bull exploited to his advantage and broke free from his captors. Now the two stood directly facing each other, but nothing happened for the moment. The bull’s chest rose and fell in time with his snorting, scorching breaths as he looked down at the Great Khan, who, though by no means small, had to look up at the massive water buffalo. The two sized each other up for what seemed like an eternity, for even though his rage appeared boundless, the bull was unable to do or say a single thing now that he stood eye to eye with his natural mortal enemy. The Khan held the buffalo’s gaze effortlessly, for he knew full well who would emerge victorious from a fight, should it come to that. The other herbivores had stepped back from them and dared scarcely to breathe.

After the Great War, only the tigers had concerned themselves with maintaining a standing army and regularly training the members of their clan in combat; the herbivores had devoted themselves almost exclusively to rebuilding their society. They simply saw no need to prepare for battle ‒ after all, it was the tigers’ job to ensure their safety. The few among them who did engage with the subject trained for more recreational purposes, mostly fisticuffs or wrestling, but nothing with which one could truly kill an opponent. All the herbivores had were ancient instincts, weakened and dulled after centuries of inactivity, and in the case of the water buffalo, a natural physical strength not to be underestimated. Both knew this, and now that the Khan had come so close to him, even the bull’s sheer strength was of no help. Thus, the bull did his best to slowly calm down, while the Great Khan did his best not to lose his temper.

“Listen, bull, listen very carefully now, because I’m going to make this offer to you and the others only once.”

Whispered the Khan, underscoring each of his words with a low growl.

“I will hold off on my further plans for the moment until we have gathered more detailed information. Perhaps ‒ and I say this only tentatively ‒ you might wish to do the same, sending your envoys to the other clans to have them confirm what I have already told you.”

He continued, gradually raising his voice and addressing the others as well.

“But perhaps I am wrong in my assessment, and you all wish to fight alongside us when the day comes, facing death side by side. Perhaps you do not simply want to let these treacherous, bloodthirsty killing machines do the dirty work. A noble thought, one that I would truly and genuinely welcome, but also one that will cost you far more than perhaps a few more sacrifices for those who will bear the brunt and pay the ultimate price to defend your way of life in the coming conflict.”

By now he was speaking loud and clear, but his eyes remained fixed firmly on those of the Bull.

“No one will emerge from this war without losses, not even us. We will all mourn the dead, and it is not impossible that we might even lose this war in the end. Even though our clan numbers a proud 300 tigers, that by no means translates into all 300 of us being capable of fighting at full strength. We, too, have children and the elderly in our ranks, the sick and the weak. And even if we were to receive reinforcements from the jaguars ‒ which is by no means certain ‒ we might end up with an army of 300 capable fighters. That is not much, considering that we tigers alone have led armies of 500 or more tigers into war, not to mention the jaguars and the wolves.”

His voice was filled with pure hatred and such coldness and bitterness that it seemed to the herbivores as if the temperature in the hall had dropped several degrees in an instant. He emphasized every single syllable meticulously to drive his message home.

“So, send out your messengers, talk to the others ‒ maybe they’ll show you the desecrated corpses of their tribesmen and tell you about strange creatures that leave behind a stench of sulfur and burnt flesh. Perhaps you’ll even get lucky and meet one of them and can ask them if it’s all just a silly misunderstanding. If that were the case ‒ and I honestly doubt it ‒ then I’ll restore everything to normal, as if nothing had happened. We’ll execute Garra, as the treaty requires, and as I’ve already promised, I’ll submit to your jurisdiction. But until then, I will maintain a state of alert and do everything in my power to prepare this territory for war. And you’d better go home now ‒ immediately ‒ before I get any ideas I might later regret.”

The last sentence was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, but it did not fail to have its effect. The delegates stood there with their mouths agape, gasping for air; even the Bull, who was still visibly agitated, stared at the Tiger before him in utter shock. Meanwhile, the Khan slowly let his gaze wander from one envoy to the next. Each pair of eyes received a moment of his undivided attention, just enough to look into the yellow-green eyes of their worst nightmare. They were bathing in bottomless pools that were the Khan’s deep-black pupils and seemed to be drowning in them. None of them was able to hold his gaze, even for that brief moment.

When his gaze finally met the buffalo’s again, he was the only one who did not immediately look away. In that moment, a connection formed between them, and the Great Khan nodded slightly before finally turning away from them. Once he had taken his first few steps, he could sense the relief of the herbivores behind him; it was a satisfying feeling, even though he had wished for a different outcome to this meeting. About halfway to his throne, Pecada and the High Priestess joined him and accompanied him the rest of the way.

Even before he sat down, the great double doors of the hall opened, and the priestess who had already accompanied them inside entered the great hall. She stepped forward and bowed deeply and respectfully to the High Priestess, who responded with a gracious nod. After straightening up again, the tigress turned to the emissaries, who were just regaining their composure. She waited a moment until those present had calmed down before inviting them to follow her with a welcoming gesture. In fact, most complied with her request, even the great buffalo ‒ at first hesitantly, since most of them felt there was still much to discuss, but then more and more quickly, as they knew the tension between them and the tigers was already too great and it would be a terribly foolish idea to provoke the leader of the tigers any further. Only one capybara approached the platform where the Khan’s throne and those of his daughters stood, and knelt down in humility

“I sincerely apologize…”

it whispered in a subdued tone, but it was not the Great Khan who reacted to this gesture of submission, but Amelia, who, after an uncomfortable moment of silence, rose from her throne and took a step toward the humble creature cowering in fear before her. Instantly, she realized what her father had meant when he said:

“Child, when they show themselves to be submissive, they are so small, just a speck on the ground; it would be easy to simply trample them underfoot, but you must never do that. In a way, it is our duty to always be merciful, always to forgive, but never to forget. If we neglect our restraint even once, we risk everything. Always remember this: Against one of them, we are overwhelmingly powerful, but they are legion. If the day comes when, through stupidity or ignorance, we manage to finally break this covenant ‒ for which we have shed blood, sweat, and tears for over 200 years ‒ they will overrun us, even now, in their weakened state. My sweet child, light of my eyes, it must never come to that.”

She looked down at the floor and sighed.

“Rise… you are not to blame; you have done nothing wrong. This debate simply took a wrong turn from the very beginning. Go now, in peace. Everything is all right ‒ at least for now.”

She said gently, managing to modulate her voice so that all sharpness and anger were filtered out of it. When he heard this, the envoy rose cautiously and bowed again, though his face already showed significantly less stress. Amelia nodded approvingly and gestured toward the group of other delegates gathered at the door. He turned away and hurried to catch up with them before the doors closed behind them.

The priestess led the herbivores silently out of the hall and through the temple’s sprawling corridors. The atmosphere was tense, though this time it wasn’t because the tigers were putting pressure on them, but because some of the envoys were so deeply agitated that the slightest spark would be enough to bring about a catastrophe.

Fortunately for them, they reached the temple entrance before that could happen. The priestess bid them farewell and then retreated into the temple. As soon as she was out of sight, she leaned against a wall and rested her head against the cool granite of the structure.

It had taken a great deal of strength not to reprimand the herbivores all the way from the great hall to the entrance for their improper behavior, but that was not her duty.

In the great hall, the Great Khan sat just as tense on his throne, his clawed paws clenched around the armrests of his seat of power. It would take a moment for his anger to subside enough that he would allow himself to relax. It was Emily, after all, who broke the uncomfortable silence:

“Thank you, sis. I think you did an absolutely wonderful job.”

She sounded almost too cheerful, and her mother gently held her back by the shoulders so she wouldn’t jump up and throw her arms around her sister’s neck, but she, too, nodded in agreement.

“You have already learned a great deal, young Amelia. You behaved like the heir to the throne that you are, and it was the only right thing to do in that moment, but don’t let it go to your head. You still have a long road ahead of you, and I hope your father will remain on this throne for a long time to come.”

The High Priestess interjected, though there was no reproach in her voice, only appreciation and affection. It was advice, an encouragement, and an incentive to try even harder. Amelia nodded slowly and looked over at her father, who had calmed down in the meantime and was looking at her with a loving, fatherly smile.

“Come here, my darling.”

He urged her wearily and opened his arms, whereupon his eldest daughter came toward him and let herself fall into his embrace. He pulled her onto his lap and hugged her warmly, smiling.

“Oh, you’re slowly getting too big to sit on my lap. Thank you for saving the day.”

He murmured in her ear and showered her lovingly with little kisses.

“Eeeeek… Daddy… not in front of the others…”

she squealed.

Concept and Idea by

El Poyo Diabolo

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El Poyo Diabolo

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