Hey y'all's!!! So, this story includes some lore. Check out my author Bio Lore section, or check out the Halloween Yellow story.Enjoy!!!

Once there were two kingdoms.

Were.

You see, this dimension is not the one you know.

In one world, a fabled hero. In another, a heartless tyrant.

This story begins in the kingdoms above.

In this world, the King and Queen of Fugatera, -Cain and Arrianna-never abandoned their child, Nariki Youcha, to the Riel.

Nariki however, contracted a sickness, of which there was naught of a cure.

Cain -The king- in a desperate attempt to save their child, proposed to King Getrofer of Kazaar a trade. Half his kingdom, to bathe his son in the eternal flame. It was a young Nariki's only hope at life.

Kazaar haughtily refused him.

Cain amassed his armies, and joined with the rivaling Kavast to destroy Kazaar, and conquer their lands.

The Kazaarian provence was devoured within a matter of days.

However Cain's wife, Arrianna, was killed in the crossfire. Cain, driven mad by grief, bathed his son in the flame, before plummeting to his death from Kazaar towers.

Nariki absorbed the flame entirely, causing Kavast and Kazaar to go dark.

He now was the most powerful being in All the thirteen realms.

Yet his beloved mother was not the only one killed through war.

Kavast's beloved prince, Allen Relic was slaughtered at the hands of the prince of Kazaar, Raga Esreem.

Now, a cosmic void, a power vaccume if you will, was yet to be filled.

The council of Kavast Took the child in as their own, never allowing him to know of his true heritage.

Black elbow length gloves slid over my pale skin, their velvety texture pulling effortlessly into place.

I had never much cared for gloves, but the practical uses far outweighed not wearing them.

I lifted a top hat, resting it upon my crown.

Glancing down at my tailcoat, my nose crinkled in distaste.

Lint. How disgusting. That new serving girl, Luna was it? Had gravely misinterpreted her priorities.

I made my way to the silvered obsidian doorway, a young girl in a tattered dress running up.

She carried a silver tray, with a glass goblet. The dim light reflected through the liquid pleasingly, but make no mistake this was not what I had requested.

I frowned.

Lifting the glass eloquently, I feigned a drink, only to toss it to my side.

The sounds of shattering and the flinching of the young girl were of far greater satisfaction than the beautiful glass.

"Luna is it? Did I not specify I required a silver goblet?"

"Y-yes m'lord, but the cook-"

"Was the cook the one that brought me this atrocity?" My jaw clenched. "You were the one satisfied enough with someone else's word, you didn't do things yourself. Had you brought me a gold goblet, or even the glass of your own volution, I would have nodded and gone about my day. But you lack independence." I sighed endearingly. "Yet it seems I'm the only one who knows that. Two weeks in the dungeon."

"B-but it's only a goblet-!" She stammered.

"It's not the goblet. it's the intent. I trust you know the way to the keep."

She opened her mouth, yet closed it without letting a word leave. Nodding silently, she walked off.

I pulled the rim of my gloves, tightening them into place.

If that goblet was still there when I got back, it would be three months dungeon time for the janitor.

I strolled along the red carpet, trailing my fingers against the engraved stone walls.

Having walked about three hundred paces, I came upon a gem-embroidered doorframe, yet no door held against the hinges.

My siblings could get so angry sometimes.

Yet there they sat at the ruby table, well mannered and knowing their place.

I strolled calmly down the length of the great table, sitting in a gilded obsidian throne, the cold surface supporting my full weight despite its fragile appearance.

"Brothers! Sister," I acknowledged Seraphine sitting quietly at the edge of the table, her golden hair tied in a braid. "All so quiet. It seems as if you all think I am going to rain fire and brimstone down upon you as soon as you let a single word slide!"

Continued silence.

"Well you all thought right." I chuckled. Glancing at a nervous looking Havoc -he was playing with the ends of his shoulder length forest green locks- I addressed him. "Havoc, why do you look so nervous?"

"..."

Bill stood instead his black and yellow parted hair falling into his face. "It's Prince Raga Esreem. He-"

"WHAT?!" I barked, standing quickly.

Spots crept over my vision as I placed a hand over my chest and inhaled deeply. "He, what, Bill?" I spoke, deadly calm.

"He requested an audience." The stringbean spoke, brushing his hair from his face.

"Well that's hardly important. Why does he think he can-"

"It's about The Council." Bill spoke.

That shut me up, whether I like to admit it or not.

That was a forbidden word.

"Well then, I shall return swiftly." I said quickly, dabbing sweat from my brow. The soft clicking if my shoes could be heard as I walked down the hall away from the dining room.

There is no way he knew about that.

No one knew, not even my own siblings.

I arrived at the midnight dungeons, the floor paved with marble stones.

Raga was elevated in a single cell, his suspension kept by two pairs of chains around his wrists and ankles.

I knelt down, examining his sword on the floor, barely out of his reach. It was to discourage him, knowing his one hope was just out of reach.

"You rang?" I spoke, admittedly quieter than I would have spoken normally.

"You... Killed them..."

"Well I hardly think that was worth calling me for, I've killed plenty of people"

"The council... Y-you slaughtered your own- your own leaders..." Raga Esreem huffed, the indigo light reflecting ominously off of the cell walls.

I nodded nonchalantly. "Sadly, the fun and games have ended now. I know not where you acquired that tidbit, but sadly it has sealed your fate." I lifted my hand, a crimson flame enveloping the appendage. My black gloves burned away slowly as I admired the ember. "Tell me, Prince of Raeghaberti, you enjoy pain?"

The cell door slammed shut behind me.

I swiftly turned, seeing my very own sister standing there.

"If anyone, I knew it would be you. You loved this," I pointed to the suspended prince. "This fallen heir." Chuckling, I turned to Raga yet again. "So sad you get to watched me end him." I lifted my hand, yet the fire died out.

"That's enough, Nariki." A voice spoke from behind me.

"Havoc... You as well?" I turned to see runes pulsing on the cage.

"You have harmed us for too long. We will make diplomatic relations with the people- no. The survivors of Kazaar." He spoke.

"I will escape. Only a matter of time." I laughed.

I was silenced by the sound of scraping metal.

Turning, I perceived Raga, now free of his shackles hefting a large greatsword.

My eyes widened.

"Now, Youcha, you shall taste the wrath of ten million Kazaarian souls."

The last thing I saw was the enraged prince dashing towards me, his blade at the ready.

END