Heroes and Evil Kings had been the most bitter of enemies seemingly since time began. They had fought each other for as long as anyone could remember. Indeed, they had fought for so long, no one really cared much anymore. They basically took it in stride when the Evil King appeared and prayed he would leave them alone. They didn't like getting their towns destroyed, but no ever died in any attacks.

The Heroes never even factored into the equation. They never helped the people rebuild; they never went out of their way to save lives unless they happened to be nearby anyway. They simply appeared, defeated the Evil Kings, and disappeared with the Princess back to wherever her home was. They were very unmemorable.

Life was very predictable for the people. The King ruled from afar through the Classification Tables, the Heroes fought the Evil Kings, and life kept going.

Until one day.

The Princess and her chamberlain began their world tour right on cue in Rashelo, as usual; at the time, it was quite a prosperous town. It wasn't built on the water, nor was it as patched-up-looking as it would later become. The Aquatic Ruins were known as a place of power, and the Princess was going there to pray for a safe journey, or something like that.

A very dark shadow stood hidden against a wall of the Ruins, watching as a boat came slowly toward him. According to tradition, the Princess would be in the Ruins for two days, during which time, no boats were allowed on the lake. After the ceremony, the Evil King would make his appearance, usually half the world away. That was the plan, anyway, according to tradition.

This time will be different, thought Evil King Gohma. This time, I will win. That's what that guy told me.

The man who called himself Pollack had told Gohma all about the plan. It had happened this way for so long, no one noticed the pattern anymore. They would notice this, however.

The boat had come very close, now. Gohma could just make out the Princess on board, wearing a raincoat to keep the spray from messing up her dress. He couldn't see her features; he was too high above her. But he thought she was probably looking very bored, indeed. She had done this too many times to count.

Pollack had told Gohma all about the World Library and Classification, and about how the Princess he was looking at now was the same one his predecessors had tried to kidnap countless times before. He wondered how she could live so long, and thought he might find the answers at the Library. He was planning on going there as soon as he had conquered the world.

The thought of actually winning was a very exciting one, and his eyes glowed red with anticipation. He closed them until he could get his emotions back under control, lest the glare give away his presence. He was not yet ready for anyone to know he was there. They would find out soon enough, once he had the Princess under his control.

Evil King Gohma was not a Shadow King, although he had quite an affinity for the magics associated with shadows and darkness. He had trained as a warrior in the Shadow Lands before coming to this world, so he was a master at the power, as he was of many others. He was a vampire mage from the Necropolis, and perfectly adept at all sorts of things. He was hiding from the light, now, but once darkness fell…

Once the night came, and the moon was high, he would strike.

Marlene yawned. She was so bored of the game, but her father kept playing. She had been sitting here for hours already, and nothing had happened. Nothing ever did. In the beginning, it had been fun. Now, it just got on her nerves, and she didn't have the heart to tell her father she was tired of it.

The room she was in was fairly large and empty save for the altar that sat at its center. There were candles on the altar, and she was supposed to light them, and then pray to something for two days. It was stupid. The game was rigged, anyway. Marlene was incapable of losing, whether she prayed here or not. She was sitting on the stone step that led up to the altar, but she was restless. She stood and paced the room.

Something hit the ground outside her door, but she didn't think too much of it. Although she wasn't supposed to, she knew the guards had smuggled in some liquor. She assumed one of them had just passed out. When she heard something moaning, she simply assumed her guess had been accurate.

The door clicked, and Marlene quickly kneeled as though she had been praying. She didn't want word to get back to her father that she wasn't taking this seriously.

"P-princess…" said a voice. Annoyed, Marlene turned with an acidic remark poised on her tongue, but the sight that met her eyes made her gasp and stumble backwards. The guard staggered into the room and fell. Blood ran down his body from two small puncture wounds in his neck. Marlene shook her head in denial.

"This can't be…" she muttered, nearing hysteria. "This can't happen. This isn't right!"

"No, it isn't," said a rich, luxurious, male voice. Marlene tore her eyes away from the dying guard and noticed a shadowy figure that filled the doorway. The only features she was able to make out were its glowing, red eyes.

"It isn't right," the figure said again. "That's what makes it so evil." The figure stepped forward into the light. It was a man, or might have been at one time. He was a large man with pale, translucent skin. His coal black hair reached to his waist. He wore a very expensive black suit, the kind any businessman would wear to a formal meeting. As he stepped forward, Marlene stumbled back; he smiled at that, revealing two very long fangs.

"You can't be…" Marlene stammered. She couldn't think or act, only react. "I didn't want…it's not time yet…"

"Let me make this simple for you," said the man. He leaned forward and tilted her head up to his face. "I am the Great Evil King, Gohma. You are my prisoner. Whatever happened before, it won't happen now. No one can save you. Not even your precious Hero."

Marlene shook with fear. She couldn't continue to look at him, at those mocking eyes, but something other than his hand held her. She stammered something incoherent and Gohma released her. He laughed at her, at her helplessness. As she watched with horror, he pulled the guard to his feet and sank his teeth into the holes he had already made on the man's neck. The man was too weak to struggle, but he tried. His limply flailing limbs slowly stopped moving, and Gohma dropped him at last. He turned back to Marlene and slowly, carefully licked the blood from his lips and fangs.

Marlene fainted.

He was a very ordinary guy, and very ordinary looking. He was 32 years old, with mouse brown hair, and brown eyes. He was average height and weight. In fact, he was not the least bit remarkable. No one bothered too much about him; in fact, they tended to completely ignore him, much to his disgust. He made a very modest living, but he thought he was doing pretty well considering that he lived in Rashelo, and no one could remember that he, or his store, existed. His name was nowhere in the Classification lists, for some strange reason. It never had been.

On the upside, the tax collectors never came to his house.

On the downside, it had been condemned three times and sold twice.

He closed up shop for the night and headed home after yet another day without a single customer. It was dark, but he decided to take a shortcut home. The shortcut took him through several very dangerous alleyways, but he wasn't worried. He'd never been mugged and never would be; thieves never saw him. The shortcut also took him by the deserted waterfront, and thus, he was the only one who saw the boat coming across the lake.

"Odd," he muttered, thinking aloud as he was wont to do. "The Princess shouldn't be coming back yet."

Then he noticed that there was only one person on the boat. One person…and a body, laying half over the side, as thought it was simply tossed there like a rag doll. Even in the dark, he could recognize the dress as belonging to the Princess. He didn't know the man, but he knew who it must be.

"The Evil King!" he exclaimed, but quietly. Sound carried very well over water, and he didn't want the Evil King to know he was there. He quietly made his way over the beach to the sidewalk, then ran for Town Hall as fast as he could.

The Town Hall was always open because it doubled as the center for law enforcement, and criminals didn't necessarily sleep at night. The man burst through the door, shouting, "It's the Evil King! He's got the Princess!"

A bleary eyed attendant blinked stupidly in his general direction and said, "Huh?"

He slammed his hands down on her desk, startling her into awareness. "The Evil King!" he repeated. "He's kidnapped the Princess!"

The attendant jumped to her feet. "What? That's impossible! What do we do?"

"I don't know!" he yelled back. "Call the mayor! Call the militia!"

"Right! The Mayor! Right! Uh…" The attendant looked around frantically. She seemed to take several hours to locate what she was looking for; it was a bell, and she rang it furiously until the head of the local militia stumbled into the room.

"What?" he demanded. "We're kind of busy back here."

Before anyone could answer, a loud explosion rocked the building, sending pictures to the floor and knocking over various paraphernalia. The three people ran from the building, followed quickly by the rest of the militia, to see the skyline red with fire.

Gohma stood high above the town on the turret of some building and laughed maniacally. Marlene hung limply, flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He looked around at the mayhem with satisfaction and threw another massive energy shot wildly into the city.

"Fear me, mortal fools," he yelled, his voice carrying easily over the screaming and the fire's roar. "My name is Evil King Gohma! Learn it, and despise it! I will bring upon you all a new age of darkness! The terrors of your nightmares shall walk freely through the night, and no one shall be safe, even in the light of day! Bow to me, cowards! I am your master!"

Still laughing, he gathered his power and sent it to the earth below him, then jumped from rooftop to rooftop, faster than any human could see. By the time the final explosion occurred, he was a mile away.

The light dawned on a very subduing sight. The city of Rashelo was no more; Gohma's final attack had created a massive crater that water was already beginning to fill. The few survivors moaned and cried; some kneeled, beating their fists against the ground. Some simply stood in shock and watched the water rush to fill the new void that had once been their great city. One person was repeating the words, "This is only a dream," as thought it was some holy mantra.

The man who had seen Gohma first had made it out relatively intact; his companions had not been so lucky. Flying shrapnel had killed the head of the militia. The young attendant had fallen; though the man had tried to save her, the flames had consumed her. He stood, now, looking out over the waters and crying silently. They had died before his eyes.

"This can't be happening," he whispered. Never had an Evil King done this much damage at once. No one had ever died. He noticed the Princess' chamberlain standing nearby with his head in his hands. "I won't let this happen, again," he said to the chamberlain, though not loud enough to actually be heard. He took one last look around him and said quietly, "No, I won't. Maybe I'm not the right man for the job, but I'll kill this Evil King Gohma with my bare hands if need be. My name is Alan Hopkins. Learn it and despise it, Gohma."

He turned and walked away, his stride purposeful, his eyes burning with a new light.