In which it started as a fairy tale and turned into something else, kind of. Two more to go, guys! AHHHHHHHH!

98. Fairy Tales

Once upon a time there was a mad king who ruled the land with an iron fist, and the mad king had seven children, each of them as unlike him as the moon from the sun. The youngest of them all was his least favourite, for he was his very opposite - dark where he was bright, and pale where he was golden.

It came to pass that the mad tyrant fell ill, and in his arrogance, he refused to let any of his children inherit his throne until they brought him something greater than even his kingdom.

The elder six went at once to the corners of the realm, but the youngest merely went out to the woods and sat down on the dirt, overwhelmed and miserable. He had no idea how to compete with his stronger, more favoured siblings, or even where to start. After some time, he began to cry.

"Oy. You. Why are you crying?"

He froze, sniffled one last time, and then looked up. Darkness had fallen, and in front of him, holding a lantern, was a strange, small boy with golden hair and eyes that glinted and glowed in the lamplight.

"It's none of your business," hissed back the young prince, pulling his knees to his chest, but the boy dropped down into a squat to stare at him. After a moment, he pulled out a loaf of bread and offered it to the prince.

"You hungry?"

The prince shook his head dumbly, and with a snort of derision, the golden boy walked away.

After some time, when the golden boy was far enough away that he could only be seen by the light of his lamp, the prince leapt to his feet and started to follow him, moving through the black branches as the light guided him farther and farther into the heart of the woods. There, he concealed himself behind a tree and watched as the golden boy walked up to a little hut, almost completely hidden in the undergrowth. The door opened, and a little roebuck buried its nose into the golden boy's hand, before they both disappeared into the cottage.

The prince watched this all shrewdly, and when both boy and roebuck had gone, made his way back to the palace, marking the way in his mind. When the sun rose the next day, he returned and watched as the golden boy let the roebuck out to run the woods, and stayed there until the roebuck returned at dusk.

He did this again the next day, but on the evening of the third day, the roebuck veered towards him, finding his hiding place and staring at him with dark, oddly human eyes. The golden boy followed, and then looked down at the prince in surprise.

"You again? Are you stalking us?"

The prince shook his head and sneered, "Full of yourself, aren't you? I'm not stalking you."

"I saw you three days ago. Now you show up here?"

"For your information, this is my country. I can go where I like."

The golden boy raised his eyebrows and then laughed. "Are you telling me you're a prince? Buuuuullshit. Why, you're all raggedy looking, and - what kind of prince has long hair and dresses like you?"

The prince got to his feet and drew himself up arrogantly. "You don't believe me?"

"No!"

"What do you mean, you don't believe me? I'm Prince William, the seventh child of the King!"

The golden boy snorted. "Fine, fine, say you're a prince. What are you doing out here?" He laid a hand protectively on the roebuck's back, as the animal quivered, ready to run at a moment's notice. "You better leave us alone."

"I'm looking for something I can give my father that is greater than even his kingdom. You can tell me something, can't you?"

The golden boy frowned. "You have to do something for me first. Then I'll tell you where to find something more valuable than the very kingdom."

The prince restrained his temper. "What do you want me to do?"

"On the other side of the forest, there is a castle surrounded by walls miles high. If you knock at the door and say, 'I am here for the truth', it will open for you. Inside lives a blind man. He was once a great king, surpassing even your father, before he saw the truth of the world. Ask him for your treasure and he will give it to you, for a price."

The prince nodded. "But what do you want?"

The golden boy hesitated, and then glared up at him. "I'm coming with you." He stroked the roebuck nervously, and then kissed its head.

So the two, the prince and the boy from the forest, journeyed through the woods deep and dark, and as they travelled, it became more and more obvious that they had little, if nothing, in common. Their bickering turned into squabbles; their squabbles turned into arguments; their arguments turned into fights, and the boy with the golden hair disappeared into the forest again.

The prince decided, rather stubbornly, that he was better off without the brat, and continued on. However, he soon discovered he was quite lost, and starting to panic, he broke into a run through the forest before leaning against a tree and trying to catch his breath.

"Heehee. You're running veryvery fast. Are you in a hurry?"

The prince turned around and around, searching for the voice, and then looked down at his feet. A mouse with fur as black as night was staring up at him.

"No, I'm lost."

"You're silly! How can you be lost?"

"I don't know where I'm going."

"Being lost and not knowing where you're going are very different things!" The mouse cocked her head. "What are you looking for?"

"...Something. Something valuable."

"That's not very specific. You're just going to go around in circles with those kinds of directions."

The prince scowled. "I..." He thought about what the golden boy had said to him. "I-I guess I'm looking for the truth."

The mouse was quiet for a moment, and then skittered off, only pausing to say, "Come on! Follow me!"

He followed the mouse as best he could, and after some time, they came to the castle the golden boy had spoken of. It was so tall that the prince couldn't see the top of it, and so wide he couldn't see where it ended, and built of stones larger than he was.

"This was a castle of giants," said the mouse, "but they are all gone now. I can only come with you this far; the rest of this journey is yours alone."

The prince bit back his response, that the golden boy should have been with him, and knocked on the great door in front of him.

"Who are you?" asked a great voice that resounded like thunder and almost knocked the prince flat.

"I am Prince William, the son of the King."

"Son of the Mad King!" roared the voice. "Why should I give you entrance?"

The prince mustered all his courage and shouted back, "I am here for the truth!"

There was silence, and then a dark chuckle. "Then you shall have it." The door swung open, and the prince walked into the castle on unsteady feet.

On a simple wooden chair in the middle of a vast room sat a man of middle years, dressed all in blue and with grey, empty eyes that stared up and away into nothing. "Son of the Mad King," he said again, although his voice had none of its roar now. "You want the truth - you will have to pay for it."

"With what?"

"Equivalent exchange. An eye for an eye, a life for a life - something of equivalent value." The blind man reached out his hand. "Ask your question. You get three. Choose wisely."

The prince didn't take long to reply. "I want something - some power, some gift, some talisman - that will let me inherit the kingdom over my brothers and sisters."

The blind man chuckled. "Vague. Just outside the door grows a plant as red as blood. Eat that plant, and you will be able to take any form you choose. Beware, though, that you do not go too long without returning to your own, or you may forget it."

"I won't forget my own body," scoffed the prince. "So what's the price?"

The blind man suddenly smirked. "Your name, little princeling. I want your name."

Before the prince had a chance to protest, it came ripping out of his throat, and all the parts of his mind and memory that had contained his name were suddenly empty. Welling in its place came a dark, brooding envy for those who had a name to call their own, because he knew he had had one once, and he adopted the feeling as his own, and called himself Envy.

The blind man, the keeper of the Truth, shrugged dispassionately. "You have two questions left. Or are you too busy with your existential crisis?"

Envy looked up hatefully at the keeper of the Truth, but in the midst of the storm of self-hate and confusion, he suddenly remembered how a boy with golden hair and eyes had come up to him when he was crying. He remembered how the golden boy had offered him bread, shown him the way and only asked that he be allowed to come with him in return.

"Who is the roebuck?" asked Envy who had once been the prince in a moment of realization.

The blind man answered in surprise, "He is the brother of the young man who was with you, transformed by a witch's curse."

For that, Envy paid with a memory of his mother. It hurt to part with it, but he had one question left.

"How can I turn him back?"

The blind man sighed. "It is already done. But what have you left to pay with? You have given me your one memory of love, and you have given me your name. What else of value do you have?"

Envy was silent.

"Here is your price. The boy's brother has been returned to his form. But in return, you cannot see either of them for seven years, neither can you return to your kingdom. You must wander for those seven years, but after those years, you may return to him."

The bottom of Envy's stomach dropped out, but he nodded slowly.

"That's all." The blind man dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Envy left through the great doors, stopping to pick one of the plants red as blood. He ate it, and instantly felt the gift take hold. He took first the shape of the blind man, then the shape of the golden boy, and then returned to his own before venturing back into the woods.

For seven years, Envy wandered the world, taking the shapes of people he met and slowly but surely distancing himself from his own, unable even to put a proper name to his old form to attach himself to it. After some time, he forgot it completely, and became a nomad in every sense, shifting forms ceaselessly in a desperate bid to find his identity.

After the seven years had passed, however, he suddenly found himself in a place that seemed very familiar. He squinted, and realized that there was a hut hidden in the undergrowth, and as he watched, the door opened and both his golden boy and a boy with hair and eyes the colour of the roebuck emerged.

The golden boy looked up, and frowned. Envy turned to slink away; he hadn't worn his true form in years now. The boy he'd come to see, whether he'd realized it or not, wouldn't recognize him.

Then the golden boy came towards him, eyes lighting up. "It's you, isn't it?"

Envy flinched despite himself. "What are you talking about?"

"The prince. I...You restored Al. How did you...I..." The golden boy took Envy's hand in his own, and then spoke his name, the name he hadn't heard and didn't remember.

Slowly, Envy transformed back into the shape he thought he'd forgotten. Then, he leant his head forward onto the golden boy's shoulder and cried. Once the tears were done, though, the golden boy led him into the hut where the boy who had been a roebuck was waiting, and there they lived happily ever after.

What of the kingdom, you might ask, and the prince's six brothers and sisters? Well, they travelled far and wide, and when they returned, neither they nor the mad king could decide which of their gifts was the greatest or most powerful. Their squabbles turned violent, and soon they all lay slain. After much arguing among the nobles, the throne was won by the son of a woman of ill repute - but that's a story for another time.