Satyr brushed back the draping leaves and slithered into the small clearing he called home. While cities had been built under his rule, with massive buildings and spiraling towers, he preferred to stay close to nature- in fact, this was the very spot where he'd vowed to create such a kingdom.

That night he had been cold, hungry, and lonely, which was a true testament to how far he'd truly come.

Going through the neatly stacked and organized baskets to find the right ingredients for dinner, he reflected on the day.

He wanted to meet every citizen of his kingdom, and the best way to do that was to go to groups and gatherings, so today he'd gone to a schoolhouse in a nearby village. The children had seemed excited once they found out they were seeing the king. One little Lillipup had asked if she could touch his horns, and he'd obliged- he hoped she'd cherish that memory for years and years.

It was his goal to spread happiness, and it was nice that it went both ways. During his travels, he'd met some interesting and entertaining people- a Galvantua couple with sixteen children, a Zweilous who was an aspiring artist, a young Bisharp with a bright scarf and a fiery personality that had made Satyr laugh harder than he had in a long time. He hoped they cherished his memory as much as he cherished theirs.

"Maybe I'll see them again down the road," he murmured to himself.

He finished gathering a combination of berries and herbs and turned towards the squat table he usually ate at. As he laid the ingredients down, humming to himself, he unconsciously stood back up the small vase that had fallen over.

Wait…

Ice ran through him.

Too heavy to be blown over by the wind. Where did all the water go? It was suddenly clear he wasn't alone.

"Who goes there?" He called into the wind, his voice echoing through the trees. His tail tensed, the leafy appendages sharpening to bladelike points. "Don't make me ask again," he growled, turning in a circle.

"My apologies, my lord," a cold voice rumbled. Satyr spun to see a hulking figure step out of the shadows. The king looked him up and down, trying to keep the growl in his throat from rising. The intruder was heavyset and battle scarred, his shell armor missing chunks and his whiskers torn out in some places.

"Are you the leader of the rebellion?" Satyr growled. He'd heard whispers of a group of rebels planning to overthrow him. He'd never been particularly worried about it, but the threat seemed very real with this Samurott now standing in front of him.

"Invictus," the rebel growled back. "Your ways are useless and outdated. It is time for a new reign."

"Leave now," Satyr commanded, rising to his full height. "Whatever you plan to do, I cannot let it happen. The balance is-"

"I am not here for talk!" Invictus roared, lunging at the king with blades drawn.

Satyr dodged easily and slammed his tail down against Invictus's back. The attacker stumbled, then snarled and reared up, his shell blade aiming for Satyr's heart.

Instinct kicked in and the king's tail shot forward, its bladed leaves impaling the Samurott's side. Invictus roared with pain and fell to his knees, panting.

Satyr felt his lip curl. Removing his tail, he used it to prop up the rebel's chin so their eyes met. "I do not want to kill you. I will bring you to the nearest village and make sure you are properly punished for your insolence. Do you understand?"

A strong king is a good king. A strong king is a good king.

Invictus was silent. After a few moments, a sneer began to creep across his face. "You underestimate me," he rasped.

Quicker than lightning, his arm-blade shot out and pierced straight through Satyr's chest.

Satyr cried out in horror and fell to the ground.

Invictus removed his blade, watching as Satyr's last breath whispered into nothingness. He snorted and turned to the forest.

"Dead," he barked. "Easier than expected."

Another shape moved from the trees, and another, and another. "Very good," Invictus growled.

"Gather the army. Split it up and take them across the kingdom. They won't have a chance to fight back."

Invictus's soldiers snarled in agreement and disappeared into the trees until only one remained.

"You appear to be hurt," the agent said without much emotion.

Their leader snorted. "Child's play. I barely feel it."

"Mmm."

For a few moments, there was silence. Invictus rolled the smooth stone in his claws. An interesting thing to keep in a flower pot.

"So then, sir… what should I do?"

Invictus looked the rebel up and down. The vicious sneer was returning to his face.

"Fit in."