Two

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"Ignorance and power and pride are a deadly mixture, you know." (Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten)

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The dark figure trekked through the Dark Forest, looking for the path to his castle. He rolled his eyes, seething with annoyance with both himself and all the blasted creatures in the forest. He had noticed, despite every creature's effort to hide them, all the looks of disdain and fear on their faces. That lifted his mood, if only a small amount.

Damn right, they should be scared.

He eventually found the general area where he had hidden the entrance and smirked. He had enchanted it to only be visible to those with no ill intent towards him, and since he had no intention of hurting himself, it was immediately spotted. The bright red bricks led directly to the castle. He strolled down the path leisurely.

There was a loud roar heard from somewhere to his left. The sound startled him, but he immediately knew what it was. A midnight black dragon with blood red accents in its wings, horns, and underbelly crawled out of the trees. Upon seeing the darkly dressed figure, it immediately lost all hostility and scurried up to meet him.

"Ah, Vanity, my old friend," he said, scratching under the dragon's chin. "Have you been protecting my castle while I've been away?"

The dragon nodded, tail swishing back and forth similar to a dog's.

"Good girl," he praised, kissing the dragon's forehead. "I have to go now, but since you've been good, I'll let you into the castle tonight."

The dragon crooned happily and scurried back into the trees, waiting for someone to wander too far into the woods for her next snack. The figure continued the journey to the castle, and upon reaching the gates, he knocked loudly on the door.

"Our king is not home, so please go away; however, he'll return on another day," came a sickly sweet voice from the other side of the door.

"Ah, but he has returned, dearest Elrohir."

A slot in the door just big enough for a set of eyes opened. A set of eyes widened upon seeing the king at the door and he heard the familiar clicks of locks being opened.

"Forgive me, my king, for not recognizing you, but I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

The king raised an eyebrow. "Soon? I've been gone for quite some time."

"It can't be, my king."

"Trust me, Elrohir, it's been almost two months."

"Ah, but time passes slower in this place, you forget. Come, there are needs to be met."

"Last I checked, faerie, I was the king."

Elrohir froze and realized his mistake, gulping as he turned around. "Your utmost forgiveness do I seek. In this part of the mind, it's been hardly three weeks."

"Is that so?"

Elrohir nodded. The faerie fluttered above the ground as he tried to usher the king along. Touching the king was a death wish if you were lucky. Only a few were even allowed near him. The darkly dressed monarchical figure got the point and followed the faerie to his throne room. The doors opened to reveal several mythical creatures scurrying around, cleaning the room to his expectations. If even one minor detail was overlooked, it was almost always an immediate execution. All creatures froze and stared at the door, eyes wider than saucers, and a collective gasp filled the room.

"Did I say any of you could stop?" the man shouted.

All of the creatures immediately returned to their duties. A smirk played on the dark man's face as he sauntered up to his throne and took a seat.

"Erendriel, Shalandar!" he shouted.

Two elves darted to the throne, bowing. Their silver eyes twinkled as they stood straight again. The taller of the two took a step forward. He bowed again, his golden hair falling in front of his face.

"Forgive me, my liege, for our impudence. You see, Shandalar and I have....forgotten about our assignment in your absence," he said, voice calm and collected despite the anxiety building in his throat.

The timid elf nodded, eyes darting around the room to avoid the king's steely gaze. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt with one hand and with the other twirled a piece of his own copper hair in between his fingers.

"Shalandar, what happened?" asked the king with mock pity.

Tears threatened to spill from the young elf's eyes. He shook his head, bunching his shirt in his fist and tilting his head down.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" the king snapped.

"Please, King Pride, he's just a boy!" pleaded Erendriel.

Pride snapped his head towards Erendriel and glared him down. "You forget your place. Both of you."

Erendriel gritted his teeth and looked away. This, however, made matters worse.

"What? Too scared to look upon your king?" Pride growled.

"You're not my king," snapped Erendriel.

He realized his mistake too late. Pride was already cleaning off his sword and putting it away. Shalandar's eyes turned into saucers and his jaw dropped. Tears overflowed onto his face as he let out a heart-wrenching scream.

"You killed him!!" he screamed, rushing to Erendriel's side.

"Wasn't that obvious?" Pride scoffed, sitting back down on his throne.

The entire throne room filled with a weighted silence, the only sound to be heard was the sniffles of the young elf. Pride rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his fist. The creatures in the throne room looked at Shalandar pitifully from the corners of their eyes.

"You," Pride pointed at a small faerie, who squeaked and stood still. "Bring the corpse to Vanity. She's probably hungry." A sick smile stretched across his face.

The faerie nodded and fluttered over to Erendriel and Shalandar, the younger of the two clinging to his brother's shirt. He shook his brother gently, voice soft and pleading for him to wake up.

"Eren, Eren, please, please wake up...." he pleaded.

"Shalandar," the faerie whispered. "I have to take him--"

"No! You aren't taking him to Pride's meaningless pet dragon!! He deserves a proper burial!! Not to be eaten and left to rot in some lizard's stomach!!" Shalandar shouted.

The faerie grimaced when Pride grabbed the back of Shalandar's shirt and jerked him away from his brother. The young elf flailed his limbs around, trying to get out of the king's grasp, but to no avail. Pride tossed him to two guards, who both pressed their lips together into a thin line and exchanged worried looks behind their helmets.

"Take the brat to the dungeon and leave him there. Maybe he'll come to his senses," Pride spat, turning around. "As for that project, Elrohir, you're in charge of it until I find someone else willing to complete the task."

Elrohir gave a single nod and immediately left the room. The two guards picked Shalandar, who was still crying and flailing around, and carried him down into the dungeon.

Pride took another seat on his throne and noticed that everyone had stopped working again.

"Did any of that concern any of you?" Pride shouted. "I think not! If even one of you so much as thinks of stopping again before I deem it done, everyone in here will be sent to the executioner's block!"

The creatures all let out frightened noises and began working again. Pride let out an exasperated growl before laying back on his throne.

"Elrohir!"

The faerie scurried back into the throne room, a look of panic stricken on his face.

"You have until the next full moon to finish that project," Pride stated. "Don't disappoint me."

"Yes, Your Highness," Elrohir muttered.

He flew back down the hall, attempting to ignore the sound of crying that echoed up from the dungeon.

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