Lunch was stressful. The Imperius was absent, as he was preoccupied with a meeting. The Impriessa, unfortunately, seemed to have more free time on her hands. She cooed over Soren, who smiled stiffly, averting his black eyes; even as Jurauk's rival, Soren shared the strong dislike of Lebony.

     For whatever reason, she adored Soren, showering him with false love and gifts which he took with a tight-lipped thanks and burned in his hearth later. Now, Soren leaned slightly away from the burgundy haired female, his fork scraping up bits of flesh.

     "My poor baby," she crooned, laying a soft hand on his cheek, "what's the matter? You look mighty pale today. Why don't we ask someone to fetch more wine, hm? Is it because that female Elisabelle still refuses your hand? If you'd like, I can...force her to accept you."

     Jurauk almost felt bad for his brother. Almost. He took a bite of the finger, sucking in all the marrow. Immediately, he gagged and spat it out, eyes watering. The meat was rancid, as if the human had already been infected with some sort of plague. He made a face, hunching over his plate to examine the finger more closely.

     Jurauk frowned, and then hissed with surprise, jerking backwards so violently, the table shook. The Impriessa shot him a glare as her hands scrambled to keep her glass of wine from spilling.

     "Jurauk, what in Ledzemok are you doing?" she snapped, daintily dabbing the tablecloth where a splotch of blood now marred the pristine white fabric. Soren peered at the half-eaten finger and gasped.

     "Soren, something is terribly wrong," stated Jurauk, standing up from the table. The meat had indeed been rancid. Lining the raw flesh were tiny, worm-like creatures. They were so small, Jurauk had to squint to see their clearly. They wriggled back and forth, and the area around them were stained a sickly black.

     Lebony took one look at her untouched plate and shrieked in horror. Servants came rushing in. Before she could order their innocent lives to be ended, Jurauk immediately demanded, "Take me to the kitchens. No one eat anything!"

     The servants escorted Jurauk to the kitchens. White steam billowed everywhere, so thick he could barely make out one shape from another.

     The cook was so surprised to see him, he dropped his butcher knife. It embedded itself into the wooden counter. "Your Highness!" he gaped. "What brings you down here?"

     "Something is off about the food. Show me the parts that have not been served yet," Jurauk said. Still flustered, the cook led Jurauk over to a massive table where several bodies were lined up. Jurauk flicked his hand, and his talons slid out. With one quick swipe, he severed a finger from a limp hand.

     He lifted it up to the light, and his suspicions were confirmed. The same miniscule worms were tainting it. Jurauk repeated this process with the other bodies, even checking multiple body parts. Each one was infected.

     "Get Vladislav," he said to a small messenger. The boy nodded and scampered off. Moments later, he returned with Vlad in tow. The Leader of the Zaalkorvsh was yawning, his hair tousled as if he'd just been roused from a long nap.

     "What's the matter, little prince?" he asked, stretching. Jurauk snarled at him, and that seemed to snap Vlad out of his stupor. "Okay, okay! I'm awake."

     Jurauk handed him the finger, and Vladislav's eyes popped when he saw the worms. "These are parasites!" he exclaimed, dropping it onto the table. "We must burn them. These creatures are bearers of a fatal disease, and once they've burrowed beneath your skin, you're done for."

     The cook didn't hesitate to light a stick and toss it onto the bodies.

     The kitchen servants were crowded around the flaming pyre, whispering in hushed tones. Acrid smoke mixed in with the steam, creating an unbearable atmosphere. Jurauk dragged Vlad out of the kitchens and down the corridors.

     "Where are we going?" Vlad inquired. Jurauk simply jutted his chin towards the massive oak doors at the end of the hall.

     "I'm afraid we are going to have to interrupt Father's meeting," he replied. Before Vlad could stop him, Jurauk shoved open the heavy doors. The chattering stopped.

     "What is the meaning of this?" thundered the Imperius, half-rising from his chair. His neck was crimson with rage. His cabinet, Nefari with too much gel in their hair, were seated at the long table. They too were sending dagger-laced glances at Jurauk and Vladislav.

     Jurauk swallowed, feeling very much like a child being scolded. "The food is infested with parasites," he said. "It's inedible, so we burned the bodies. Vlad and I will go investigate the refrigerated meat to see if they're all like that. Until them, I'm afraid you will have to be without lunch."

     The Imperius growled, turning his attention to Vlad. "Vladislav Anarslova! You are my leading Zaalkoe; it is your responsibility to bring healthy humans to Ledzemok. If something this outrageous happens next time –"

     "There won't be a next time," cut in Jurauk swiftly. "We will take our leave now. Apologies, Father."

     "Don't interrupt me again."

     "Yes, Father."

     Jurauk noticed Vlad touch his golden cape once, as if reminding himself that it was still there. His face had blanched, all color leeching away. Jurauk tugged him out of the room and shut the doors to spare him any further embarrassment. Vlad didn't say anything as they exited the castle.

     The refrigerators were large spacious caves behind the tumbling waterfall, kept cool from the hot sun. It was so cold, Jurauk could see his breathing in little puffs. They got to work, severing phalanges and inspecting for any signs of the parasitic worms.

     To their dismay, the human bodies were in the same condition as the ones they'd burned. Jurauk leaned against the cave wall, rubbing his circles on his brow. The chill of the stones seeped through his shirt and into his clammy back. "How could this have happened?" he wondered.

     Vlad tossed a foot back onto the pile. "It likely that the village we sacked was completely infected. Perhaps tainted drinking water. I hope the water wasn't from the River Bvalga. That would mean the rest of the villages along it are infected –" He stopped.

     "Stars," murmured Jurauk, finishing Vlad's thoughts. "If we can't find healthy humans, the Nefari may face extinction."

NOTE: Before, I was calling people like Vlad "Huntsman". But then I was rereading my old drafts and I realized that I totally forgot about a group I'd created called the Zaalkorvsh. It sounds much better than "Huntsman", eh? BTW, Zaalkoe is actually the singular form. Nefaru is the singular  version of Nefari. Just thought I should point that out XD

*bites nails nervously* did that move too fast, guys? I hope you guys liked this chapter! For all of you -even if you're a silent reader- I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I LOVE YOU GUYS AHHHH 

AND ALSO DARK QUEEN WON THEFAEFOLK 'S BOOK OF THE MONTH COMPETITION NOW HOW COOL IS THAT

Discussion Questions: How will these new turn of events affect the Nefari? How will they affect Jurauk's impending role as lead Zaalkoe?