The Following episode and the rest of the season will be featuring Sergals. Sergals are a creation of Mick39 as part of her sci-fi world Vilous; this story is a fiction all its own and the lore is unrelated to Mick’s creation. Posted with permission.
Written By: Epicstu Wyvernwriter
“So, what’s your take on this Northlandish Fennec? You think he’s the real deal?” Jack Harris asked Mordecai. He had been playing with a throwing knife in his hand, twirling it a few times before tossing it into the air and catching it, blade down, on a random finger only to flick it back up into the air again and catch the handle in his hand. He repeated this process over and over again as though he were in some kind of idle. They had started their shift, watching the main entrance of the resistance bunker almost an hour ago and Jack was getting board. Jack Harris was a Westland Rabbit with light gray fur and yellow eyes. He was the fastest and most accurate knife thrower in all the Lands and constantly sought to prove it. Mordecai was a Westland Fennec with beige fur and one green eye; his left eye had been badly scarred and was a ghastly white. He never told anyone his last name and as far as anyone knew, he didn’t have one. He was the quickest draw in the West and he never failed to prove it whenever he was challenged. The two of them had dueled before, but every time, it ended the same. They always just ended up deflecting each other’s projectiles.
“Only one way to find out.” Mordecai answered, tilting the brim of his hat, ever so slightly, up with one finger. Jack Harris looked down at his old friend, who was a head shorter than him if you didn’t include the ears, with a raised eyebrow, “You Challenge him to a game of drink.” Mordecai finished his punchline. They both started laughing.
“I’m not sure if any of us could take on a mighty Northlandish Fennec Fox if he decided to start drunk brawling.” Jack joked as the two of them clenched their sides from laughing too hard. Northlandish Fennecs had once been known for their love of meat, mead, wine, and their rowdy late night gatherings which usually included vast quantities of all three.
“SHH!” Mordecai gestured for silence. They had both perked up simultaneously.
Jack caught his knife by the blade. “I heard it too.”
The two of them stared into the darkness before them. The forest canopy above them was too thick to let in moonlight and the only other source of light they had was a lit torch placed on top of a five foot pole. They relied on sound, using there massive ears to detect even the slightest noise within the silence of the night. It was footsteps they had heard. A figure walked towards them, still too far from their light source for them to make out.
Jack threw a knife at the figure. “Sergal!” he shouted, having already thrown fifteen knives in total from his trench coat.
The figure jumped into the air, dodging the knives as they flew past followed by fifteen thuds off in the distance. Mordecai fired off three shots into the air which would have hit there mark had they not been deflected by the Sergal’s blade. The Sergal sheathed his blade, landed, and rolled over to Jack Harris and Mordecai, grabbing them by their clothes and hoisting them up to his level before pushing them against the wall behind them. “Would you two idiots watch where you’re aiming!” The Sergal shouted at them. “It’s me!”
“Dolan Crow.” Jack addressed his Sergal comrade mockingly. “Sorry about that, I thought you were one of those domesticated Sergals the Humans keep as pets.” He smiled as he teased the already pissed off Sergal.
Dolan growled at Jack before dropping the two of them. “Half pint piece of…” he muttered under his breath as he headed inside.
“Dolan.” Mordecia interrupted. “Be sure to introduce yourself to our newest recruit when he gets back.”
“I’ll pass” Dolan replied. He didn’t care for introductions as not many Furs treated Sergals with any respect.
Mordecai chuckled in response. “Trust me, you’ll want to meet this one.”
“Yeah, turns out you didn’t nail that coffin shut tight enough after all” Jack added.
Dolan lifted Jack up off the ground. “Don’t play with me, rabbit.” Dolan remembered his crime from 20 years ago and the guilt that wouldn’t leave him be. “The Fennec Foxes of the Northlands are dead.”
“Apparently not.” Jack replied.
“It’s true.” Mordecia added. “Ember found one wondering around. Goes by the name Edward Dimir, I think.”
Dolan dropped Jack and remained silent for a moment. “That’s not possible.” A look of anger over took his face. “Where is he?”
“Went for a walk.” Jack replied. “About thirty minutes ago. Went in that direction.” Jack pointed North. “He should be back soon.”
Dolan headed North to find this fox. “House Dimir? Something just doesn’t add up.” He thought to himself as he picked up Edward’s trail.
Elizabeth fell back. “What did I run into?” She muttered to herself as she got back up, rubbing her forehead. She looked up and her eyes widened. “Dimir?” She remembered the illustrations from her book, History of House Dimir.
Edward looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. Then he looked up to find a bold Sergal stairing at him with a look of confusion on his face. “Get behind me kid.” Edward drew Deceit. “Wake up, Deceit.”
“Five more minutes” Deceit moaned, still not fully awake.
Edward twirled her around a bit before stabbed her into the ground before him.
“Alright, alright I’m up.” She exclaimed. She then noticed the creature in front of her. “What is that thing?”
“I’m not sure” Edward replied “But I don’t think he’s a friend.”
“A survivor?” The Sergal interrupted. “So your coffin hasn’t been nailed yet, huh?” He grinned. “Allow me to fix that.”
“And who are you to assume you can?” Edward glared at his foe.
“Ah yes, there’s that famous Northlandish pride.” The Sergal bowed “Allow me to introduce myself.” The ground began to rotate beneath them causing Elisabeth to loose her balance. “I am Skinner of Lengsly Corp. and I am here to take your fur…” He became confused once again as he noticed that Edward was not loosing his balance. “Who are you?” he questioned with an annoyed tone of disbelief. “No Northlandish Fennec has been able to keep their balance on moving ground for over two hundred years.”
“I am Edward Dimir.” Edwards answer caused Skinner to take a step back. “Prepare yourself, Skinner.” Edward challenged as he lifted Deceit and pointed her at him. “I’ve got a few questions for you.”
Skinner drew his quarter staff and unfolded the blades on each side of it with one swift motion. “You’ll get no answers from me, Fennec!”
Elizabeth looked up at Edward in disbelief. According to her book, Edward Michael Dimir had been executed along with his family over two hundred years ago by the Church of the Northlandish Fennec Fox itself. His execution was the reason for the very curse Skinner spoke of. “Could it really be him?” she asked herself, trying to make sense of it all.
Skinner leaped into the air and throw his quarter staff at Edward who deflected the projectile away from him. Skinner landed in front of Edward, pulled out his sawed off double barrel, and fired both shots into Edwards chest, sending him flying back.
“No!” Elizabeth screamed as she ran to Edward.